Shut up, already!
I wouldn’t know Taz Arnold from a hole in the ground if I tripped over him while walking down the street. Nevertheless, I’ve decided to blog about him.
I was reading The Cut this morning and I came across an article where Mr. Arnold described the difference between the words fashion and style. Haven’t we all heard this a million times before?
Yeah, fashion is different from style. Isn’t that great? Now we know the difference. Whoopee!
The two words are used interchangeably by everyone, including me. I’m Auntie Fashion for Zob’s sake, and I’m a proponent of antifashion. Still, I often defend fashion on this blog. The reason I do that is because the words are defined by the context in which I am using them. As long as I provide that context, I don’t have to use a tired cliché to explain how I’ve used them.
I write about words I loathe all the time. However, when I blog about a word like “effortless,” it’s because its usage has become hackneyed. The same goes for the “fashion” vs. “style” debate. Pointing out the difference between the two words doesn’t make you sound like you’re a member of the fashion elite. It makes you sound as if you’ve been reading InStyle.
I guess that all sounds a little snobby on my part, but Taz Arnold wouldn’t have attempted to define the difference between fashion and style if he didn’t want to sound snobby himself. I’m only trying to stop him from sticking his foot back into his mouth in the future.
The Missing Links
Well, I finally got around to posting some links to sites I like to visit (see the Blogroll in the right-hand column). I’ll probably post some more eventually, but I’m a little reluctant to send my readers to shopping blogs. I really, really, really don’t like shopping blogs. That explains some of the missing links.
It seems as some people write blogs just to talk about what they would wear if they could afford everything that they covet. That’s not terribly aspirational, is it? Why not blog about an article of clothing you found that no one else is wearing this season, and then chronicle the process as you single-handedly try to bring it back into style? Why not blog about the how the current trends have changed your perception of a particular look that you swore you would never, ever wear? Why not blog about something that will prove your sense of style isn’t just a by-product of a clever marketing campaign launched by LVMH and endorsed by a Conde Nast title.
Blogging, like fashion, is presenting a public image of yourself that reveals your inner-workings to an audience that can number in the billions. It should serve the reader and it should serve your ego. Revealing that you like to shop isn’t the best way to show the world what kind of person you are. We’re all much better than what we can afford, aren’t we?
By the way, did you know that you can get that sassy T-shirt with the chimpmunk decals on the Sears Outlet site? It’s only $14.99. Yeah, I know — but it’s all I can afford. I sure hope this Moose Jaw Fashion Week gig turns into a cash cow.
Why, why, why?
Why, why, why is Interview magazine comparing Marc Jacobs to Andy Warhol? That’s like comparing Cojo to Hamish Bowles. It ain’t right.
Nevertheless, I do have to admit that I’m getting used to staring at his ugly mug; what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger. I am sort of surprised that the designer’s recently-discovered affection for clean living hasn’t begun to show up on his face. Auntie Fashion spends a lot of time at the gym, too, and you can see it in her countenance. There’s a certain vitality that goes hand-in-hand with a healthy lifestyle and a good night’s sleep. Someone should tell the Evil AntiZob about it. Yikes!
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get my Taschen Duchamp book out of the basement. Since my affection for Andy Warhol has been spoiled like a glass of milk left out in the sun, I need a new idol to worship.
“I’m sorry . . .”
I’ve noticed that I spend a lot of time blogging about semantics. Forgive me for posting another rant about a phrase that drives me crazy. No, wait – don’t forgive me!
Fashion commentary has changed significantly since the Internet was invented. Online forums provide a venue where everyone can be a fashion critic. Although most people are utterly unqualified to deliver an erudite opinion, it’s no big deal if they do. As Dita Von Teese said in Simon Doonan’s Eccentric Glamour, “There is always some idiot calling some other person an idiot, isn’t there?”
Whatever opinion you have, you should be able to back it up with something. If you hated the dress that LeAnn Rimes was wearing in my previous blog post, you should be able to explain why you hated it. Frankly, I’d take any explanation. “She looks like a glammed-up armadillo!” would be fine with me. I’d even accept something irrational like “I knew a girl in high school named Becky who wore a dress that color to a dance where she threw gum in my hair and kissed my boyfriend.” At least you have a reason to hate the dress, and I respect that.
However, don’t ever post a comment to my blog that begins with the phrase “I’m sorry . . .” Writing something like “I’m sorry, but that dress is ugly,” doesn’t tell me why you don’t like the dress; it tells me that you’re incapable of arguing your point. I’ll approve almost any comments on my blog, but I won’t even finish reading a comment from someone who apologizes for having an opinion different than mine.
Have some conviction in your own beliefs. Have some conviction in your own sense of style. If you want people to believe in you, you need to start by believing in yourself. I know that sounds trite, but I’m not sorry that I wrote it.
Double Standards
Here’s a photo of the lovely Behati Prinsloo from the Karl Lagerfeld S/S RTW show. The show took place on October 4, 2006. Behati’s birthday is May 16, 1989. That would make Behati seventeen-years-old in the photo. That’s why I used MS Paint to erase her nipples. The photo is inappropriate.
For the past couple of days I’ve been trying to ignore the onslaught of criticism directed at Vanity Fair and Miley Cyrus. I don’t really understand why everyone is so worried about an arty shot of the teenager in a sheet. I’ve seen worse, including the photo I posted above.
Behati Prinsloo is a gorgeous girl. In interviews, she seems to be wise beyond her years. She once told Fashion Television “I feel like modeling is not for very young girls cause it takes away your childhood.” No kidding.
Where were this child’s parents when she was walking down the runway in a see-through top. Where were her agents? Where was Karl Lagerfeld? Everyone who made a buck off of Behati’s nipples when she did this show should be ashamed of themselves. I’m not going to blame her because she’s a kid — an especially wise kid, but a kid, nonetheless.
When I first saw this photo, I emailed style.com to let them know that it was irresponsible to leave the photo up if they knew the model was under eighteen. They didn’t get back to me, so I emailed a few talk shows. Nobody responded — not even Tyra or Bill O’Reilly.
I figured that this photo should spark a controversy. It didn’t. So why is a model so much different than an actress? Why is Miley Cyrus in a sheet so much more offensive than a different teenager in a transparent top? Janet Jackson’s nipple slip cost CBS a bundle, but Karl Lagerfeld and style.com get off free because Behati Prinsloo is a model? I guess models get what they deserve. They aren’t actresses, after all.
I’m sure this girl is going to have a great life because of modeling. It’s likely that she’ll have opportunities that most of us couldn’t even dream of having. Still, I wonder what she’s going to think in twenty or thirty years when she looks back at this photo and sees herself bare-breasted on a stage with the entire world’s gaze fixed upon her. I can’t imagine that she’s going to be happy with the people who brought her there. And she shouldn’t be.
Designer Handbags
Simon Doonan and I are kindred spirits.
I’ve been over designer handbags for quite some time. Don’t get me wrong: I love handcrafted leather goods and a stylish bag. Nevertheless, it’s awfully silly to spend a ton of money on something that says “The person who designed me is soooooo stylish!”
That’s what most bags are like nowadays. The entire point of carrying a bag is to advertise your allegiance to the aesthetic of a designer. If you worship at the altar of Miuccia, you carry a Prada bag. If you’re a disciple of Dior, you’ll carry a Dior bag. If you’re a minion of the Evil AntiZob, you’ll spend your rent money on a Marc Jacobs bag, then call your parents back in New Jersey and make up some story about how you were mugged on the subway so that they’ll send you a check before you get kicked out of your apartment and have to quit your job as an intern at Teen Vogue.
Your bag should say something about you. It should reflect your sense of style. In his book, “Eccentric Glamour”, Doonan suggests that women get in the habit of carrying a signature bag. I believe that’s a great idea. Unfortunately, we live in a society where most everything is disposable, so people don’t care for their possessions like they used to. For that reason, Doonan’s advice might not translate to the rabble. However, for those of you who would like to elevate yourselves above the artless rabble, it’s advice you ought to consider.
And if you don’t want to carry one bag, then get in the habit of carrying a wardrobe of bags that don’t advertise your loyalty to a luxury goods conglomerate. Visit the site I posted above and order that cowgirl purse for forty bucks (and wear it with the fringed pants I blogged about yesterday). Or buy a bag online that isn’t normally distributed in the country where you live. Try to find a new bag that no one else has, and carry it because it’s you. Don’t become a billboard for anyone else’s agenda.
The White Stuff
Here’s a lovely photo from Francisco Costa’s 2006 Spring Collection for Calvin Klein. It only took Costa about three years to get into a groove at CK. By his sixth season, he was dictating the trends. This collection in particular influenced mainstream fashion far more than almost any other New York collection of the past decade.
The white-on-white trend, the over-sized geometric print trend, and even the trend to move fashion back toward simplicity were all presented during this groundbreaking show. It was a beautiful show at its time. In retrospect, it was visionary.
The one trend that has really hit the streets in 2008 is the white-on-white trend. Unfortunately, that trend seems to be poorly executed by most women who are jumping on the bandwagon.
White is the most unforgiving color a woman can wear. It amplifies most figure flaws. It washes out various complexions. It shows every bit of wear and tear. Still, it’s everywhere this spring. All it takes is one warm day, and legions of women are walking around outside in white pants and shorts with their panty-lines visible for the whole world to see.
Yet the worst thing about white clothes is how they can remind you of utilitarian garments. I mentioned the Bebe store in my previous post. I noticed two white dresses in the boutique’s window when I walked by this past weekend. Each of the dresses was better suited to a transvestite’s Slutty Nurse Halloween costume than to a sultry summer day.
Neither dress was going to have any place in a modern woman’s wardrobe, unlike the hot, little number in the photo above. Yet the one thing that I still need to mention is that Natalia Vodianova could make a burlap sack look gorgeous. Mere mortals might want to think twice about making either that dress or the white-on-white trend the cornerstone of their summer wardrobe.
EDITED TO ADD: Wow! I just got into Simon Doonan’s book (the reason I was at the mall was to buy it), and it seems that Mr. Doonan shares a few of my opinions concerning white clothes and slutty nurse’s outfits. I believe I’ve met another friend of Zob!
The word “effortless”
“Effortless” is one of those words that gets on my nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. Fashion isn’t effortless. Style doesn’t come that easily. Looking good takes a lot of work.
First of all, you need to put some effort into those things that many people take for granted, like washing your face or brushing your teeth. Occasionally, the pendulum swings the other way, and being smelly and gross becomes de rigueur, but that’s usually a short-lived trend. Smelly, gross people might look good in a Nylon editorial spread. In-person, however, it’s a different story.
Next, you have to put some effort into maintaining your body. Fashion always favors the fit. Take Karl Lagerfeld, for example. Now that he’s dropped a few pounds, he’s even more iconic than ever. Yes, heavier people can be fit and gorgeous, too — don’t start posting nasty comments on my site because I mentioned that weight-loss can be healthy. Still, vitality is one of those things that never goes out of style. Whatever your body looks like, clean-living and a healthy lifestyle do begin to supersede style as you age. Living that lifestyle takes plenty of effort.
Finally, there’s fashion itself. People who live and breathe fashion have put a lot of effort into honing their craft. If they get out of bed looking gorgeous it’s because they’ve put in the time to look gorgeous. That good haircut didn’t just happen. Those eyes look fresh because they’ve seen some sleep. That walk to the closet to get dressed was graceful because someone was listening when they were told to stand up straight. And that outfit is drop-dead gorgeous because the woman wearing it has been reading fashion magazines for twenty years, and she knows how to put things together innately. It might be second nature now, but it sure took a lot of effort to make it look effortless.
So, when you hear an over-processed piece of work like Rachel Zoe mention “effortless style”, do me a favor and tell her to shut her fat hole.
The word “classic.”
I usually don’t waste my time getting worked up over something as innocuous as a word like “classic.” However, the way some fashion critics use the word makes me want to slap them across the face with my Hermès pochette.
The worst misuse of the word has to be when neophytes refer to Audrey Hepburn’s 5os and 60s wardrobe as “classic.” Audrey Hepburn’s style during this era was a collaboration between the actress and Hubert de Givenchy. At that time, Givenchy was an iconoclast. He was the Ghesquière of his generation, producing radical silhouettes that changed the way the world viewed fashion.
There was nothing about Audrey Hepburn that was “classic.” In that respect, she was a rebel. Stanley Donen, the great film director, only fought with Hepburn once, over a pair of socks he wanted her to wear in Funny Face. Hepburn was so concerned about maintaining her cutting-edge look that she refused to wear white socks with her beatnik outfit during a dance number. Donen wanted the actress to wear the typical, white Bobby socks of the day because they would show up better on film. Eventually, Hepburn did what Donen told her to do.
Hepburn’s primary concern in this instance was to appear as Givenchy envisioned her: She was the epitome of chic as translated by the era’s greatest designer. While her look may have become a classic, at the time she was the muse of the avant garde movement.
It just goes to show you that many people who comment on fashion shouldn’t be commenting on fashion. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the word “classic,” but in the context that it’s used by some twatchops, it’s enough to make me wish I could grow some fangs and start spitting venom. Or maybe I’ll just stick to blogging. Fangs are so last year.
Celebrity Fragrances
I remember when the celebrity fragrance trade first hit its stride in the 80s with fabulous concoctions like Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth. It smelled like maraschino cherries that had been soaked in cheap hairspray. Come to think of it, that’s exactly how most of the 80s smelled.
Since then our sensibilities have been assaulted by dozens of celebrity scents. The worst of the lot has to be Curious by Britney Spears. I admit that I haven’t smelled it. Frankly, it scares me to think of how Britney stinks. I imagine getting a whiff of Britney is a lot like a visit to the fairground, where the pleasing odor of fried mini donuts and corn dogs is mingled with the stench of ripe armpits and the vomit-soaked trash can next to the Tilt-a-Whirl.
It makes me wonder: Is there another celebrity out there who would make a worse figurehead for a new fragrance? It’s an idea I’d like to explore. If anyone has a suggestion, please let me know.
