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 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.
Will Pose for Change
On last night’s ultra-glamorous episode of America’s Next Top Model, Tyra made it clear to the contestants that supermodels need to be super role models. I guess that explains this gem of a photo. It is rather inspirational, now that I think about it. I’m so inspired that I’m going to spend the upcoming weekend knitting leg warmers for homeless bums. Thank you, Tyra!
In other news, Marvita looks at her feet when she walks and Kimberly is a twatchop.
And the winner is. . .
Hilary Swank in Versace.
In what might have been one of the most nap-inducing red carpet events I’ve ever seen, Hilary Swank woke me up and slapped me across the face like an award-winning dominatrix. She dresses like a movie star, which is all I can ask an actress to do at the Oscars.
Onstage, the dress looked gorgeous at a distance. Swank wears architectural shapes well, and the hard lines of the bodice actually softened her athletic frame. Upon closer inspection, the embellishments appeared as if they could have been made of rubber attached to a backing of translucent vinyl instead of lace on tulle.
It gave a suggestion of kink without giving up an iota of discretion. I’ve been a big fan of Donatella’s Versace for the past few seasons because the label has become so wearable. Now it’s beginning to fill the void that was left in Italian fashion when Tom Ford left Gucci.
The first red carpet review I read this morning cited Swank’s dress as the worst of the evening. The article went on to praise every other dress, including Miley Cyrus in Valentino. What’s wrong with that sentence? If you don’t already know, don’t ask me to explain. You’re as hopeless as the twatchop who awarded the worst-dressed distinction to Ms. Swank.
Leave the fashion criticism to the experts, please. Your pathetic tries bring tears to Zob’s eyes.
