one of the major disadvantages of living in a free, democratic country is that every now and again an election will try and ruin your Saturday. fear not! firstly, look for a polling place set up at a school. these usually have ample parking and more often than not will have some kind of sausage sizzle scenario. secondly, be aware of the pamphlet gauntlet. unless they are attractive there is no reason whatsoever to engage these people. do not make eye contact. Simply stride through with the arrogant air of a deluded fashion designer and you should be fine. in extreme cases i would suggest you simultaneously pretend to text someone or, for the more adventurous punter, random twitching and cursing also works very nicely. hopefully these handy hints will make your voting experience a quick and painless one, leaving you with more time for the making of more appropriate party-related decisions.
20.8.10
18.8.10
to the boy who has sent me back into the habit of literature
the following are some sections from a book i've been reading recently. i've read the majority of the books in my shelf over the years so i'm really going through the dregs now. although this one has pleasantly surprised me. it has my mother's first and maiden name written inside the front cover and was published in 1964.
'Lucy Crown' by Irwin Shaw. (blurb: on our shield there are three great words - Suicide, Failure and Adultery, and i challenge any red-blooded American family to do better. Oliver was the failure, with his drinking and his broken marriage. his father was the Suicide. as for Adultery - Lucy was the one who ha yearned for love, and she it was who turned in desperation to a thirteen-year-old boy, a kid only just discovering himself..)
'..the owner decided that she reminded him of the two or three women in his life who, he had known from the beginning, were too good for him. the women had known it, too, and for that reason the owner rememembered them romantically and still sent flowers on her birthday to the last of them, who had later married a colonel in the French Air Force. she was rare combination, the owner thought; she has sweetness and she is confident of herself at the same time. why couldn't she have walked in here ten years ago?' - p9
'when we look back into the past, we recognise a moment in time which was decisive, at which the pattern of our lives changed, a moment at which we moved irrevocably off in a new direction. the change may be a result of planning or accident; we may leave happiness or ruins behind us and advance to a different happiness or more through ruin; but there is no going back. the moment may be just that, a second in which a wheel is turned, a look exchanged, a sentence spoken - or it may be a long afternoon, a week, a season, during which the issue is in doubt, in which the wheel is turned a hundred times, the small, accumulatin accidents permitted to happen. for Lucy Crown it was a Summer.' - p13
''it was glorious,' Jeff said solemnly. 'it was heartbreaking..it was like an earthquake.'' - p135
''goodbye,' she said, forcing him to shake her hand.
'walk away with a nice springy step now. make sure you study hard and get beautiful high marks this year at school.'
Jeff tried to speak but couldn't. he tore his hand away from her and wheeled and plunged out of sight around the corner of the cottage. watching him, Lucy felt like weeping. not because he was going and she would never see him again, or because for a little while he had been dear to her and it was all spoiled now. she felt like weeping because he was so clumsy and she knew how it was hurting him and it was her fault.' - p137
''two weeks ago you wouldn't believe a word i said.'
'because you were lying,' said Oliver.
'how do you know that i won't lie again?' Lucy asked. Oliver sat down, the lines of fatigue bitten into his face, his head nodding over his chest.
'don't torture me, Lucy,' he said.
'answer me,' she said harshly. 'how do you know i won't lie to you again?'
'because i HAVE to believe you,' Oliver said, his voice almost inaudible. 'i sat in the house thinking of what it would be like to try to live the rest of my life without you..and i couldn't stand it,' he said simply. 'i just couldn't do it.'
'even though i'm a liar and you hate liars,' Lucy said, standing over him. 'even though i disgust you?'
'i'm trying to forget i ever said those things,' Oliver said.
'i can't forget it,' Lucy said. 'you were right. it WAS disgusting. i disgusted myself.'
Oliver raised his head and looked at her. 'but you'll change now?'
'change?' said Lucy. 'yes, i will. but perhaps not in the way you think.'
'Lucy,' Oliver asked, and that was the first time he'd ever asked the question, 'don't you love me?'
Lucy stared at him thoughtfully. 'yes,' she said slowly, 'yes, i do. i've been thinking myself these last ten days, about you. about how much i owe you. how much i need you. how much you've done for me. how solid you've been. how secure.'
'Lucy,' Oliver said, 'it's so good to hear that.'
'wait,' said Lucy. 'not so fast. you've done something else too, Oliver. you've educated me. you've converted me.'
'converted you?' Oliver asked, puzzled. 'what do you mean?'
'you've always talked to me about your principles,' said Lucy. 'about the truth. about seeing things clearly, about not fooling yourself. you even wrote a long letter to Tony about it this Summer, when you were worries about his eyes.'
'yes, i did,' said Oliver. 'what about it?'
'i am now your disciple,' said Lucy. 'and i'm the worst kind of disciple. because the first person i've used my faith on is you.'
'what are you talking about?' Oliver asked.
'lies offend you, don't they, Oliver?' Lucy was speaking calmly, reasonably, as though she was explaining a mathematical equation.
'yes, they do,' said Oliver, but he sounded wary and defensive.
'deception of any kind, by anyone,' Lucy went on, in the classroom tone, 'is sickening to you, isn't it?'
'yes, it is,' said Oliver.
'you believe that, don't you?' Lucy asked.
'yes.'
'and you're lying,' said Lucy.
Oliver's head jerked back angrily. 'don't say that.'
'you're lying to me,' said Lucy. 'but most of all to yourself.'
'i don't lie,' Oliver said tightly. - p138
'Lucy Crown' by Irwin Shaw. (blurb: on our shield there are three great words - Suicide, Failure and Adultery, and i challenge any red-blooded American family to do better. Oliver was the failure, with his drinking and his broken marriage. his father was the Suicide. as for Adultery - Lucy was the one who ha yearned for love, and she it was who turned in desperation to a thirteen-year-old boy, a kid only just discovering himself..)
'..the owner decided that she reminded him of the two or three women in his life who, he had known from the beginning, were too good for him. the women had known it, too, and for that reason the owner rememembered them romantically and still sent flowers on her birthday to the last of them, who had later married a colonel in the French Air Force. she was rare combination, the owner thought; she has sweetness and she is confident of herself at the same time. why couldn't she have walked in here ten years ago?' - p9
'when we look back into the past, we recognise a moment in time which was decisive, at which the pattern of our lives changed, a moment at which we moved irrevocably off in a new direction. the change may be a result of planning or accident; we may leave happiness or ruins behind us and advance to a different happiness or more through ruin; but there is no going back. the moment may be just that, a second in which a wheel is turned, a look exchanged, a sentence spoken - or it may be a long afternoon, a week, a season, during which the issue is in doubt, in which the wheel is turned a hundred times, the small, accumulatin accidents permitted to happen. for Lucy Crown it was a Summer.' - p13
''it was glorious,' Jeff said solemnly. 'it was heartbreaking..it was like an earthquake.'' - p135
''goodbye,' she said, forcing him to shake her hand.
'walk away with a nice springy step now. make sure you study hard and get beautiful high marks this year at school.'
Jeff tried to speak but couldn't. he tore his hand away from her and wheeled and plunged out of sight around the corner of the cottage. watching him, Lucy felt like weeping. not because he was going and she would never see him again, or because for a little while he had been dear to her and it was all spoiled now. she felt like weeping because he was so clumsy and she knew how it was hurting him and it was her fault.' - p137
''two weeks ago you wouldn't believe a word i said.'
'because you were lying,' said Oliver.
'how do you know that i won't lie again?' Lucy asked. Oliver sat down, the lines of fatigue bitten into his face, his head nodding over his chest.
'don't torture me, Lucy,' he said.
'answer me,' she said harshly. 'how do you know i won't lie to you again?'
'because i HAVE to believe you,' Oliver said, his voice almost inaudible. 'i sat in the house thinking of what it would be like to try to live the rest of my life without you..and i couldn't stand it,' he said simply. 'i just couldn't do it.'
'even though i'm a liar and you hate liars,' Lucy said, standing over him. 'even though i disgust you?'
'i'm trying to forget i ever said those things,' Oliver said.
'i can't forget it,' Lucy said. 'you were right. it WAS disgusting. i disgusted myself.'
Oliver raised his head and looked at her. 'but you'll change now?'
'change?' said Lucy. 'yes, i will. but perhaps not in the way you think.'
'Lucy,' Oliver asked, and that was the first time he'd ever asked the question, 'don't you love me?'
Lucy stared at him thoughtfully. 'yes,' she said slowly, 'yes, i do. i've been thinking myself these last ten days, about you. about how much i owe you. how much i need you. how much you've done for me. how solid you've been. how secure.'
'Lucy,' Oliver said, 'it's so good to hear that.'
'wait,' said Lucy. 'not so fast. you've done something else too, Oliver. you've educated me. you've converted me.'
'converted you?' Oliver asked, puzzled. 'what do you mean?'
'you've always talked to me about your principles,' said Lucy. 'about the truth. about seeing things clearly, about not fooling yourself. you even wrote a long letter to Tony about it this Summer, when you were worries about his eyes.'
'yes, i did,' said Oliver. 'what about it?'
'i am now your disciple,' said Lucy. 'and i'm the worst kind of disciple. because the first person i've used my faith on is you.'
'what are you talking about?' Oliver asked.
'lies offend you, don't they, Oliver?' Lucy was speaking calmly, reasonably, as though she was explaining a mathematical equation.
'yes, they do,' said Oliver, but he sounded wary and defensive.
'deception of any kind, by anyone,' Lucy went on, in the classroom tone, 'is sickening to you, isn't it?'
'yes, it is,' said Oliver.
'you believe that, don't you?' Lucy asked.
'yes.'
'and you're lying,' said Lucy.
Oliver's head jerked back angrily. 'don't say that.'
'you're lying to me,' said Lucy. 'but most of all to yourself.'
'i don't lie,' Oliver said tightly. - p138
like a young, first time lover writes her name beside the other's surname, i write my own admist a clothing design pseudonym
Sasha Fay said...
i like this and i have actually been wearing a similar outfit with a black high-waisted skirt and trimmed tank with oxfords. a tucked in shirt isn't comfy so i say just cut off the part that is usually tucked in.
Kirsty said...
beautiful minimal look, without looking like a Celine clone!
XXXXXXXXX
'they are invisible (they let their girls shine), but present none the less.' - Fashionista on the boyfriends / partners of daily style bloggers.
XXXXXXXXX
'so this comment popped up on the previous post which touched on how i justify my spending on clothes...
for my degree show i researched Couture garment details for my jewellery collection especially Schiaparelli (as she was the QUEEN of amazing details, see her trapeze artist buttons!).
this is an extract from an open letter written by Elsa Schiaparelli, requested by the Daily Express on May 21 1936. it is titled; 'from Europe's most discussed dress designer to her daughter'.
it is easy to feel guilty parting with a chunk of money for a piece of clothing, but worse to spend the same on twenty poor quality garments that won't last. when we are next tempted, let's listen to Elsa Schiaparelli's words of wisdom;
'your first inclination will surely be to buy as much as you can for your money. don't give in to it..you can only get to know good clothes from bad by looking at good ones. so, when you see a smart woman, study her. only the rich can afford cheap clothes. if something you see looks worth twice the price, you may be sure the illusion will not last. what you buy must be good.'
- Style Bubble
XXXXXXXXX
'why i don’t care that some t-shirts cost $200' - by Lauren Sherman:
about a week ago, i received a package in the mail from Gap, stuffed with two of the brand’s new t-shirts. the “Perfect T” collection, which launched July 1, includes tri-blend knits, micro modal tanks, and a soft, relaxed burnout fabric. most styles are just $19.50.
of course it’s nice to receive a gift, but more than that, i was intrigued by the feel of the shirts. they felt, well, expensive.
which leads me to my point. thank you, The Row. thank you, James Perse. but above all, thank you, Michael Stars–the original “i can’t believe these t-shirts are that expensive” brand–for raising the quality bar in the t-shirt category.
now, don’t misunderstand my gratitude. i would never, ever spend more than $50 on a tee. (yes, i know that’s still kind of expensive, but if it’s a silk blend i can excuse it.) but i am glad that these brands exist. why? because it pushes less pricey labels to create better product at a lower price. do you remember what t-shirts used to feel like? they were thick, took years to soften, and often became a funny shape after a wash or two.
why the change? consider a brand like James Perse.
i’m not going to go crazy at James Perse every time i walk in, but i have spent money when there’s been a good sale. my reasoning: why would i spend a few dollars less at a specialty retailer if i can get higher quality on sale? suddenly, the Gaps and J.Crews and even Old Navys of the world are not only competing with each other, they’re competing with LNA, Kain, and Splendid as well.
so we must thank those ridiculous brands for offering up $500 t-shirts. we might not be buying them, but they’ve improved the quality of t-shirts we do buy.
XXXXXXXXX
how old would you be if you didn't know how old you were ? / dammit blog, why didn't i do my qcs on that / psychotic-sci-trance-bush-doof-dance / its as though Western Art began with Andy Warhol /
XXXXXXXXX
MC: what is your mantra for dressing?
CH: highlight the things you like. i like my small waist, so whenever i wear a dress or blouse, i always make sure you can see my waistline. it gives me more of an hourglass shape.
MC: what would you say to women who want to minimize their curves?
CH: instead of trying to downplay your curves, find a designer or style that glorifies them. there are designers who simply don’t design for people with shape and there are those — like L’Wren Scott or Roland Mouret — who do exactly that. once you find what looks best on you, stick with it.
XXXXXXXXX
the whole first post is void due to saying 'brang' instead of 'brought'.
YYYYYYYYY
tongue in chic.
i like this and i have actually been wearing a similar outfit with a black high-waisted skirt and trimmed tank with oxfords. a tucked in shirt isn't comfy so i say just cut off the part that is usually tucked in.
Kirsty said...
beautiful minimal look, without looking like a Celine clone!
XXXXXXXXX
'they are invisible (they let their girls shine), but present none the less.' - Fashionista on the boyfriends / partners of daily style bloggers.
XXXXXXXXX
'so this comment popped up on the previous post which touched on how i justify my spending on clothes...
for my degree show i researched Couture garment details for my jewellery collection especially Schiaparelli (as she was the QUEEN of amazing details, see her trapeze artist buttons!).
this is an extract from an open letter written by Elsa Schiaparelli, requested by the Daily Express on May 21 1936. it is titled; 'from Europe's most discussed dress designer to her daughter'.
it is easy to feel guilty parting with a chunk of money for a piece of clothing, but worse to spend the same on twenty poor quality garments that won't last. when we are next tempted, let's listen to Elsa Schiaparelli's words of wisdom;
'your first inclination will surely be to buy as much as you can for your money. don't give in to it..you can only get to know good clothes from bad by looking at good ones. so, when you see a smart woman, study her. only the rich can afford cheap clothes. if something you see looks worth twice the price, you may be sure the illusion will not last. what you buy must be good.'
- Style Bubble
XXXXXXXXX
'why i don’t care that some t-shirts cost $200' - by Lauren Sherman:
about a week ago, i received a package in the mail from Gap, stuffed with two of the brand’s new t-shirts. the “Perfect T” collection, which launched July 1, includes tri-blend knits, micro modal tanks, and a soft, relaxed burnout fabric. most styles are just $19.50.
of course it’s nice to receive a gift, but more than that, i was intrigued by the feel of the shirts. they felt, well, expensive.
which leads me to my point. thank you, The Row. thank you, James Perse. but above all, thank you, Michael Stars–the original “i can’t believe these t-shirts are that expensive” brand–for raising the quality bar in the t-shirt category.
now, don’t misunderstand my gratitude. i would never, ever spend more than $50 on a tee. (yes, i know that’s still kind of expensive, but if it’s a silk blend i can excuse it.) but i am glad that these brands exist. why? because it pushes less pricey labels to create better product at a lower price. do you remember what t-shirts used to feel like? they were thick, took years to soften, and often became a funny shape after a wash or two.
why the change? consider a brand like James Perse.
i’m not going to go crazy at James Perse every time i walk in, but i have spent money when there’s been a good sale. my reasoning: why would i spend a few dollars less at a specialty retailer if i can get higher quality on sale? suddenly, the Gaps and J.Crews and even Old Navys of the world are not only competing with each other, they’re competing with LNA, Kain, and Splendid as well.
so we must thank those ridiculous brands for offering up $500 t-shirts. we might not be buying them, but they’ve improved the quality of t-shirts we do buy.
XXXXXXXXX
how old would you be if you didn't know how old you were ? / dammit blog, why didn't i do my qcs on that / psychotic-sci-trance-bush-doof-dance / its as though Western Art began with Andy Warhol /
XXXXXXXXX
MC: what is your mantra for dressing?
CH: highlight the things you like. i like my small waist, so whenever i wear a dress or blouse, i always make sure you can see my waistline. it gives me more of an hourglass shape.
MC: what would you say to women who want to minimize their curves?
CH: instead of trying to downplay your curves, find a designer or style that glorifies them. there are designers who simply don’t design for people with shape and there are those — like L’Wren Scott or Roland Mouret — who do exactly that. once you find what looks best on you, stick with it.
XXXXXXXXX
the whole first post is void due to saying 'brang' instead of 'brought'.
YYYYYYYYY
tongue in chic.
13.8.10
speak the truth..even if your voice shakes
Rachel, how will they know when you did what you did? will they investigate? i dont think so......put it in as a demo. of skill and tenacity and expertise. skill is the new Black.
- an ex Art teacher via email
- an ex Art teacher via email
12.8.10
'at what point does relaxation become laziness? what gives my MC Hammer-pant wearing housemate the right to pay $18 bucks to meditate in a room full of bored housewives and then give me sh*t about spending the afternoon on the couch? i don't know the answer to these questions but as i said to my housemate, "these True Blood episodes aren't going to watch themselves!" it wasn't the best comeback but i think i made my point.'
what's wonderful about her shows is that you can't remember what you were wearing beforehand. - re: Phoebe Philo for Celine.
& i couldn't agree more. sometimes i wonder if i would be so into and so comfortable in - button-ups, plain shirts, a palette of greys, creams, monochromatics, and a tiny tiny touch of blue if i need colour, etc.. - if not for the clothes i've been seeing around me in editorials, websites, fashion shows..
would i have come to this clothing conclusion on my own ? or have i just been influenced so much..? i can't remember what i was wearing beforehand.
what's wonderful about her shows is that you can't remember what you were wearing beforehand. - re: Phoebe Philo for Celine.
& i couldn't agree more. sometimes i wonder if i would be so into and so comfortable in - button-ups, plain shirts, a palette of greys, creams, monochromatics, and a tiny tiny touch of blue if i need colour, etc.. - if not for the clothes i've been seeing around me in editorials, websites, fashion shows..
would i have come to this clothing conclusion on my own ? or have i just been influenced so much..? i can't remember what i was wearing beforehand.
if i made music i think i'd be like a Whitlams / Ben Folds lovechild with a tinie dash of Winehouse
i am rigidly terrified that i will never find a design aesthetic of my very own.
8.8.10
i have far too many unfinished drafts of blog posts gaining cobwebs
often, creating mood-based playlists can be the most therapeutic thing for me when i find myself tired & upset late at night.
this afternoon i found in my archives an unfinished collection of songs that i'd put together hurriedly a fair while ago.
they are ordered by Artist because i had been making it on my ipod at the time - this is just about the only time i have not ordered a playlist to suit and flow after making it.
Aerosmith - Cryin'
Aha - Take on Me
Alanis Morissette - Hands Clean (acoustic)*
Alex Lloyd - Far Away
Alicia Keys - Why Do I Feel So Sad*
Amy Winehouse - He Can Only Hold Her
Amy Winehouse - Tears Dry on Their Own*
Angus & Julia Stone - Silver Coin
Ani DiFranco - Untouchable Face*
Anya Marina - Move You*
Band of Horses - No-one's Gonna Love You
Bayside - Blame it on Bad Luck (acoustic)
The Beatles - Help!
'our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. we ask ourselves, who am i to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? actually, who are you not to be? you are a child of God.
your playing small does not serve the world. there is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
we are all meant to shine, as children do.
we were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. it's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. as we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.'
- Marianne Williamson, 1992.
this afternoon i found in my archives an unfinished collection of songs that i'd put together hurriedly a fair while ago.
they are ordered by Artist because i had been making it on my ipod at the time - this is just about the only time i have not ordered a playlist to suit and flow after making it.
Aerosmith - Cryin'
Aha - Take on Me
Alanis Morissette - Hands Clean (acoustic)*
Alex Lloyd - Far Away
Alicia Keys - Why Do I Feel So Sad*
Amy Winehouse - He Can Only Hold Her
Amy Winehouse - Tears Dry on Their Own*
Angus & Julia Stone - Silver Coin
Ani DiFranco - Untouchable Face*
Anya Marina - Move You*
Band of Horses - No-one's Gonna Love You
Bayside - Blame it on Bad Luck (acoustic)
The Beatles - Help!
'our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. we ask ourselves, who am i to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? actually, who are you not to be? you are a child of God.
your playing small does not serve the world. there is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
we are all meant to shine, as children do.
we were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. it's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. as we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.'
- Marianne Williamson, 1992.
17.7.10
yes; length.. but i feel it is necessarily so
just found this in my ipod bookmarks, how careless of me to not have posted / referenced it a lot earlier..:
why fashion is worth blogging about
this is important, this is what i actually want you to read and care about and comment and talk about.
and another disclaimer: nothing i’m going to say here is new; everything are ideas expressed by other people as well, often more eloquently, and many of which I’ve posted before — Jenna at Jezebel, the girls at Threadbared, a lot of the wonderful ladies on my blogroll, some of the other commenters at Contexts, some of the lovely folks who also post at TFS — everyone has these ideas, and there is a lot more to be said about it. i’m just getting it out there with how and why i agree.
i am sick and tired of hearing that fashion is stupid, silly, inane, shallow, for girls, a waste of time, consumerist, idiotic, antifeminist, misogynistic, pathetic, etc, etc, ad nauseam, and this is why.
look, i need to say first that i grew up thinking i hated fashion. i grew up thinking fashion was for dumb rich bitches (secret inner misogyny and issues with media concepts of femininity much?) and that “fashion” meant Louis Vouitton bags and Sex in the City and Cosmo magazine. by age 13, for whatever reasons, i was so utterly convinced that i was fat and ugly and disgusting and so hopelessly excluded from the pretty people of the world that all i’d ever have were my brains and possibly the fact that i could be “interesting,” so i might as well make a point of hating fashion. so i cut my hair off and dyed it funny colours. i ate up everything counterculture I could think of — converse sneakers, JNCO jeans (phased out for black skinny jeans towards my late teens), pyramid belts, quirky thrift store dresses and teeshirts, pounds of black eyeliner, piercings, band patches and pins, excessive bracelets, messenger bags, combat boots, black plastic glasses (guys, it was the late 90’s/early 00’s and i was like 13, cut me some slack here) — things which became visual identifiers of people i could get along with, things which conveyed similar interests, or similar emotional or social situations. for some pop culture context, my high school peers looked like Jersey Shore and i thought i was Daria.
and here i am a decade or so later writing about fashion and wearing Chanel nail polish and a Helmut Lang shirt (and a studded bracelet and combat boots.) what gives? the problem here is that Daria — in her own way, in the same way i now realise i did — cares about fashion just as much as her sister Quinn and her “fashion club” — a joke which actually comes up in more than one episode of the show, and it took me ages to realise it. i realise now is that as a teenager, i had cared more about fashion than anything else, fashion as self expression and informed choice and blahdybalhblahblah, except i didn’t think of it in those terms, because my teenage self-concept was based around “being the kind of girl who is really NOT into fashion.” and furthermore, most of that had also been its own brand of compulsive consumerism, obsessively coveting certain items and styles as integral to expressing just how ~unique~ and smart and quirky and creative and different and angry and special or whatever it was that i thought i was. and i’m still doing that — we’re all still doing that. and i’m tired of people pretending that they’re above that, and telling me that I’m above that, and thinking that it makes you a “better person” and “smarter” and “more moral” to not care about fashion and that i should feel bad and embarrassed of writing about fashion and that doing that makes me a bad feminist or something like that. because that’s a lot of bullshit.
why do we take the costumes and makeup and tattoos of other cultures seriously and consider them interesting (or at least fetishize them as novelties or put them in museums) while dismissing the fact that such things exist within our own society? why don’t we bother to think about what is going on in the minds of girls wearing Uggs, because let me tell you my combat boots are just as comfortable, so why are they wearing those things on their feet? what statements does it convey within their social groups, what references does it evoke and what does it imply about their economic and social class? there are serious and fascinating social psychology and sociology things going on here — and they deserve to be talked about too. this isn’t “kid stuff” or “stuff for dumb girls” or even “art” (which is equally dismissive in its own way.) this is society, and self-presentation, and economy, and patriarchy, and sociology, and billions and billions of dollars.
fashion, like music and art and many many more, seems to be a double industry: there’s a lot of old white guys with money taking advantage of oversexed naive teenagers who are thrust into the mainstream as props, chewed up alive and spit back out and cast aside before they hit 20. there are crazed consumers obsessed with owning the latest trends and epic amounts of marketing dollars and energy devoted to turning 12 year olds (and their parents) into little consumption machines. there’s corruption and a glaring wage disparity and sweatshops and eating disorders and probably rape and murder too; everything is about power and sex and aesthetics. but what industry isn’t like that? And furthermore, why is the existence of these problems (and their heightened visibility in fashion due to its focus on the link between appearances and money) continually used as reasoning for a.) ignoring fashion and b.) dismissing it as worthless? we don’t do that with music, film, art, real estate, or finance and i think we’d all agree they are just as messed up — just in more subtle ways.
would the world be a better place without Uggs and Ed Hardy? probably. are there a lot of morons out there talking about fashion, and are there are lot of desperate consumption-driven miserable humans out there doing horrifying things in the name of fashion, and are there a lot of women making absurd sacrifices and dedicating themselves blindly to stereotypes and standards promoted by fashion and fashion media without thinking about why or how? undoubtedly. is fashion deeply fucked up, corrupt, riddled with problems, linked to systems of oppression and some of our most problematic social issues? yes. which is why it’s stupid to dismiss it. if it’s so messed up and shallow and bad, why push it aside? why not cut it to pieces and sew it back together in new ways, talk about it and analyze it and get involved and have an opinion and do something about it? (and possibly even have fun and make some friends while we’re at it?)
i don’t think i need to go as far as linking to Meryl Streep’s faux-Anna-Wintour lil’ blue sweater monologue in The Devil Wears Prada (0:50 onward), but i just did anyway — because this stuff is pervasive, and important, and relevant. and messed up. and occasionally awesome. because besides all the issues that we should address and talk about and analyze — there are also thousands of talented and intelligent and creative young women and men making beautiful and functional pieces of art, and there are thousands of them writing about it and taking photos of it and participating in it, and talking to each other about it and making lasting friendships and changing society’s ideas about body and gender and money and style, and learning things and whateverthefuckelse any given industry or personal interest can do for anybody. i spent my weekend at fashion blogging conferences where i saw dozens, even hundreds, of young women (and a handful of men) making friends with each other and finding creative opportunities and personal satisfaction and public attention and money and community and who knows what else — out of fashion, and out of talking about fashion. and that’s awesome, and also worth talking about, also worth acknowledging.
and something else which struck me with a lot of intensity this fashion week — the first one in which i went out there and proclaimed myself as fashion press and used that as a card to participate actively beyond looking at pictures online, and let me tell you, this was far, far easier than expected — is the bizarre (and in a way, very wonderful) sort of double standard of attitudes towards women within the industry. many of you probably know by now that my employment history is largely within the music industry (from record labels to marketing and PR, for a lot of bands you listen to), and i have vivid memories of my first record label internships, my first CMJs, countless shows i’d worked and endless marketing meetings. my memories of CMJ include a lot of going out with (male) coworkers and being asked if i was a secretary. or if i was someone’s girlfriend. or working at a show and being politely reminded that fans can’t access XYZ area of the venue when in fact i was working for the band, just that wearing heels had somehow made me look like a groupie. my memories of the music industry involve cocky male writers and overworked female publicists flirting with them for coverage, involve men being taken seriously and women being accessories, involve an entire industry controlled by rich (well, getting poorer), old, white men. and that filtered down to every day of my work and every show I went to and every female friend who wasn’t taken seriously as a singer, a music writer, or a music photographer, every female publicist who slept with some guy in a band she worked and was patronized for it later, and every female publicist who didn’t and was still patronized for it later, in ways so obvious and blatant it was hard to digest it was actually possible.
this fashion week, not one person asked if i was a secretary, or a girlfriend, or a groupie. i got asked what magazine i worked for, what blog i ran, if people could see my photography, if i was a model and what agency i was with, if i was a stylist, and if i was a writer. nobody assumed i was there because i wanted someone to sign my breasts with a Sharpie. people assumed i was there because i was being paid by somebody. being female (and a reasonably pretty one, inclined to express as reasonably feminine, wearing makeup, and 5” heels - don’t you know that makes me dumb?) didn’t automatically write me off as an accessory; people i encountered took me (reasonably) seriously, and assumed i was “doing something worthwhile.”
of course we have to point out that the industry also is notorious for its terrible treatment of women and is guilty of some of the most publicly visible acts of misogyny, and that it perpetuates some of the harshest judgments of women based entirely on appearance. we have to look at the enormous number of old male photographers and the enormous number of naked underage underweight oversexed overworked female models. and we have to point out that it is likely that people’s acceptance of me is probably aligned with my (both by nature/coincidence and choice) conforming to a painfully strict set of norms — 5’10”, under a size 4, wearing heels, white, skinny, etc — and that my relatively positive commentary here probably has a lot to do with my rose-colored glasses of privilege.
but the fact remains that the ladies and TEH GAYS (and even the gay ladies! whatsup Freja? when are we getting married? teehee!) are doing pretty darn well for themselves here. (here’s a test of that one: how many female film directors can you name in 30 seconds, and how many female designers? How many powerful fashion media ladies can you come up with right now, and how many CEOs in finance?) within fashion, being a woman doesn’t predispose one to being taken less seriously — but there’s a problem beyond that, which is of course the rest of society’s refusal to consider fashion seriously. and i suspect that, to some extent, “fashion is for girls and gay men” plays a large role in this. because i mean, lord knows we don’t want to take anything THOSE people do seriously! bitches and fags, get back in the corner. what do you think you’re doing, making all this money and fuss over CLOTHES?! please, don’t bother us about this — we’ve got more important, noble, and valuable things to talk about — you know, real man stuff. go shoe shopping or something, why don’t you?
and it’s not just that women are more influential and more powerful within fashion as an industry as compared to others — as the main targets and market of a large portion of that industry, women who are merely BUYING the clothes have a huge amount of power with that money that they are spending as well. women, as consumers, then have an enormous potential to shape and define an industry — an industry which, in turn, is so intensely linked to so many other things. if shopping is an informed choice we must make when considering that a.) being naked is cold and socially unacceptable and b.) we exist within an inescapable capitalist society — and furthermore, that what we put on our bodies and how we present ourselves is also an informed choice which allows us to somehow express ourselves publicly on a daily basis — well, that’s a little different than Barbie’s favorite hobby and, you know, airheaded housewives dragging their fat bored rich husbands around the mall, frittering his paycheck away on girly bullshit as he drags his feet and rolls his eyes.
and that’s a fascinating double standard — that an industry so often vilified for its terrible imaging and treatment of women, and an industry which historically has done a lot to keep women economically and/or metaphorically (and physically, as in corsets and petticoats and bound feet) enslaved, is also an industry where women are taken much more seriously as an economic, artistic, and intellectual force. Fashion takes women seriously (as it should! it’s an ass ton of our money moving the whole industry!) — so why doesn’t society take fashion seriously? and if, as women, we have enormous a.) financial power within this industry as educated consumers and b.) a much larger chance of being taken seriously on the career and influencer level than in most other industries — well, fuck it, i’m going to care about it — and talk about it, about both what i love and what bothers me — and that doesn’t make me stupid either.
i’m also horrified by how everyone consistently assumes that fashion is antifeminist, that being interested in it at all, that having ANY sort of open interest in visual self-presentation and any sort of body modification is inherently shallow, inane, consumerist, that it’s for stupid girls, that girls with a nice degree like mine and girls with brains should be doing something WORTHWHILE. (you know, beauty disqualifies brains, and vice versa. of course!) i so often hear “i don’t have any interest in fashion, the industry is so messed up and it’s so shallow and consumeristic. i don’t really care what I wear, I only shop at thrift stores. i can’t stand fashionistas, i can’t stand girls who only ever talk about style. i fucking hate fashion.”
but that is, clearly, an interest in fashion. that is an incredibly intense personal statement about the ways in which your clothing choices relate to the complex web of economy and politics. that personal statement could be about reclaiming the deliberately oppressive fashion of earlier decades into a personal statement about your appearance and your money, or about rejecting one particular set of aesthetic/social norms. that is not proof of immunity to fashion and above all it is not, in any way shape or form, an acceptable excuse to dismiss fashion OR to condescend to those who express any interest in it.
so please — let’s argue back and forth about whether or not Alexander McQueen was an artist or a misogynist or both, and let’s talk about Jen Kao’s use of models of colour and with slight variations in body shape and whether or not this is progressive or pathetic. let’s talk about how and why Kirkwood’s shoes completely rule and why Rad Hourani’s insistence on unisex collections is interesting and whether or not it’s transgressive, and let’s talk about whether or not the “tribal” obsession fetishizes “third-world” nations and how our concepts of aesthetics are linked to lingering post-colonialism. let’s talk about how your self-presentation and choice of clothes is linked to your public projections of your sexuality and social ideas as well as your personality and your friends, and let’s talk about awesome young and upcoming designers who are creating beautiful things. let’s argue about whether or not Vivienne Westwood sending homeless-esque men down the runway is thought-provoking commentary or evidence of the isolation and idiocy of the wealthy fashion world (to add some humour to the situation - i saw a comment on that link that said:'Hm Vivienne Westwood.....that sounds an awful lot like.....DERELICTE.' heehee), and the ways in with both those opinions could relate to greater socioeconomic and social issues within the context of Westwood’s personal history and aesthetic. as long as we argue about it, because it is relevant. and let’s make sure we know what we’re talking about too, because “following fashion” does not make you stupid.
why fashion is worth blogging about
this is important, this is what i actually want you to read and care about and comment and talk about.
and another disclaimer: nothing i’m going to say here is new; everything are ideas expressed by other people as well, often more eloquently, and many of which I’ve posted before — Jenna at Jezebel, the girls at Threadbared, a lot of the wonderful ladies on my blogroll, some of the other commenters at Contexts, some of the lovely folks who also post at TFS — everyone has these ideas, and there is a lot more to be said about it. i’m just getting it out there with how and why i agree.
i am sick and tired of hearing that fashion is stupid, silly, inane, shallow, for girls, a waste of time, consumerist, idiotic, antifeminist, misogynistic, pathetic, etc, etc, ad nauseam, and this is why.
look, i need to say first that i grew up thinking i hated fashion. i grew up thinking fashion was for dumb rich bitches (secret inner misogyny and issues with media concepts of femininity much?) and that “fashion” meant Louis Vouitton bags and Sex in the City and Cosmo magazine. by age 13, for whatever reasons, i was so utterly convinced that i was fat and ugly and disgusting and so hopelessly excluded from the pretty people of the world that all i’d ever have were my brains and possibly the fact that i could be “interesting,” so i might as well make a point of hating fashion. so i cut my hair off and dyed it funny colours. i ate up everything counterculture I could think of — converse sneakers, JNCO jeans (phased out for black skinny jeans towards my late teens), pyramid belts, quirky thrift store dresses and teeshirts, pounds of black eyeliner, piercings, band patches and pins, excessive bracelets, messenger bags, combat boots, black plastic glasses (guys, it was the late 90’s/early 00’s and i was like 13, cut me some slack here) — things which became visual identifiers of people i could get along with, things which conveyed similar interests, or similar emotional or social situations. for some pop culture context, my high school peers looked like Jersey Shore and i thought i was Daria.
and here i am a decade or so later writing about fashion and wearing Chanel nail polish and a Helmut Lang shirt (and a studded bracelet and combat boots.) what gives? the problem here is that Daria — in her own way, in the same way i now realise i did — cares about fashion just as much as her sister Quinn and her “fashion club” — a joke which actually comes up in more than one episode of the show, and it took me ages to realise it. i realise now is that as a teenager, i had cared more about fashion than anything else, fashion as self expression and informed choice and blahdybalhblahblah, except i didn’t think of it in those terms, because my teenage self-concept was based around “being the kind of girl who is really NOT into fashion.” and furthermore, most of that had also been its own brand of compulsive consumerism, obsessively coveting certain items and styles as integral to expressing just how ~unique~ and smart and quirky and creative and different and angry and special or whatever it was that i thought i was. and i’m still doing that — we’re all still doing that. and i’m tired of people pretending that they’re above that, and telling me that I’m above that, and thinking that it makes you a “better person” and “smarter” and “more moral” to not care about fashion and that i should feel bad and embarrassed of writing about fashion and that doing that makes me a bad feminist or something like that. because that’s a lot of bullshit.
why do we take the costumes and makeup and tattoos of other cultures seriously and consider them interesting (or at least fetishize them as novelties or put them in museums) while dismissing the fact that such things exist within our own society? why don’t we bother to think about what is going on in the minds of girls wearing Uggs, because let me tell you my combat boots are just as comfortable, so why are they wearing those things on their feet? what statements does it convey within their social groups, what references does it evoke and what does it imply about their economic and social class? there are serious and fascinating social psychology and sociology things going on here — and they deserve to be talked about too. this isn’t “kid stuff” or “stuff for dumb girls” or even “art” (which is equally dismissive in its own way.) this is society, and self-presentation, and economy, and patriarchy, and sociology, and billions and billions of dollars.
fashion, like music and art and many many more, seems to be a double industry: there’s a lot of old white guys with money taking advantage of oversexed naive teenagers who are thrust into the mainstream as props, chewed up alive and spit back out and cast aside before they hit 20. there are crazed consumers obsessed with owning the latest trends and epic amounts of marketing dollars and energy devoted to turning 12 year olds (and their parents) into little consumption machines. there’s corruption and a glaring wage disparity and sweatshops and eating disorders and probably rape and murder too; everything is about power and sex and aesthetics. but what industry isn’t like that? And furthermore, why is the existence of these problems (and their heightened visibility in fashion due to its focus on the link between appearances and money) continually used as reasoning for a.) ignoring fashion and b.) dismissing it as worthless? we don’t do that with music, film, art, real estate, or finance and i think we’d all agree they are just as messed up — just in more subtle ways.
would the world be a better place without Uggs and Ed Hardy? probably. are there a lot of morons out there talking about fashion, and are there are lot of desperate consumption-driven miserable humans out there doing horrifying things in the name of fashion, and are there a lot of women making absurd sacrifices and dedicating themselves blindly to stereotypes and standards promoted by fashion and fashion media without thinking about why or how? undoubtedly. is fashion deeply fucked up, corrupt, riddled with problems, linked to systems of oppression and some of our most problematic social issues? yes. which is why it’s stupid to dismiss it. if it’s so messed up and shallow and bad, why push it aside? why not cut it to pieces and sew it back together in new ways, talk about it and analyze it and get involved and have an opinion and do something about it? (and possibly even have fun and make some friends while we’re at it?)
i don’t think i need to go as far as linking to Meryl Streep’s faux-Anna-Wintour lil’ blue sweater monologue in The Devil Wears Prada (0:50 onward), but i just did anyway — because this stuff is pervasive, and important, and relevant. and messed up. and occasionally awesome. because besides all the issues that we should address and talk about and analyze — there are also thousands of talented and intelligent and creative young women and men making beautiful and functional pieces of art, and there are thousands of them writing about it and taking photos of it and participating in it, and talking to each other about it and making lasting friendships and changing society’s ideas about body and gender and money and style, and learning things and whateverthefuckelse any given industry or personal interest can do for anybody. i spent my weekend at fashion blogging conferences where i saw dozens, even hundreds, of young women (and a handful of men) making friends with each other and finding creative opportunities and personal satisfaction and public attention and money and community and who knows what else — out of fashion, and out of talking about fashion. and that’s awesome, and also worth talking about, also worth acknowledging.
and something else which struck me with a lot of intensity this fashion week — the first one in which i went out there and proclaimed myself as fashion press and used that as a card to participate actively beyond looking at pictures online, and let me tell you, this was far, far easier than expected — is the bizarre (and in a way, very wonderful) sort of double standard of attitudes towards women within the industry. many of you probably know by now that my employment history is largely within the music industry (from record labels to marketing and PR, for a lot of bands you listen to), and i have vivid memories of my first record label internships, my first CMJs, countless shows i’d worked and endless marketing meetings. my memories of CMJ include a lot of going out with (male) coworkers and being asked if i was a secretary. or if i was someone’s girlfriend. or working at a show and being politely reminded that fans can’t access XYZ area of the venue when in fact i was working for the band, just that wearing heels had somehow made me look like a groupie. my memories of the music industry involve cocky male writers and overworked female publicists flirting with them for coverage, involve men being taken seriously and women being accessories, involve an entire industry controlled by rich (well, getting poorer), old, white men. and that filtered down to every day of my work and every show I went to and every female friend who wasn’t taken seriously as a singer, a music writer, or a music photographer, every female publicist who slept with some guy in a band she worked and was patronized for it later, and every female publicist who didn’t and was still patronized for it later, in ways so obvious and blatant it was hard to digest it was actually possible.
this fashion week, not one person asked if i was a secretary, or a girlfriend, or a groupie. i got asked what magazine i worked for, what blog i ran, if people could see my photography, if i was a model and what agency i was with, if i was a stylist, and if i was a writer. nobody assumed i was there because i wanted someone to sign my breasts with a Sharpie. people assumed i was there because i was being paid by somebody. being female (and a reasonably pretty one, inclined to express as reasonably feminine, wearing makeup, and 5” heels - don’t you know that makes me dumb?) didn’t automatically write me off as an accessory; people i encountered took me (reasonably) seriously, and assumed i was “doing something worthwhile.”
of course we have to point out that the industry also is notorious for its terrible treatment of women and is guilty of some of the most publicly visible acts of misogyny, and that it perpetuates some of the harshest judgments of women based entirely on appearance. we have to look at the enormous number of old male photographers and the enormous number of naked underage underweight oversexed overworked female models. and we have to point out that it is likely that people’s acceptance of me is probably aligned with my (both by nature/coincidence and choice) conforming to a painfully strict set of norms — 5’10”, under a size 4, wearing heels, white, skinny, etc — and that my relatively positive commentary here probably has a lot to do with my rose-colored glasses of privilege.
but the fact remains that the ladies and TEH GAYS (and even the gay ladies! whatsup Freja? when are we getting married? teehee!) are doing pretty darn well for themselves here. (here’s a test of that one: how many female film directors can you name in 30 seconds, and how many female designers? How many powerful fashion media ladies can you come up with right now, and how many CEOs in finance?) within fashion, being a woman doesn’t predispose one to being taken less seriously — but there’s a problem beyond that, which is of course the rest of society’s refusal to consider fashion seriously. and i suspect that, to some extent, “fashion is for girls and gay men” plays a large role in this. because i mean, lord knows we don’t want to take anything THOSE people do seriously! bitches and fags, get back in the corner. what do you think you’re doing, making all this money and fuss over CLOTHES?! please, don’t bother us about this — we’ve got more important, noble, and valuable things to talk about — you know, real man stuff. go shoe shopping or something, why don’t you?
and it’s not just that women are more influential and more powerful within fashion as an industry as compared to others — as the main targets and market of a large portion of that industry, women who are merely BUYING the clothes have a huge amount of power with that money that they are spending as well. women, as consumers, then have an enormous potential to shape and define an industry — an industry which, in turn, is so intensely linked to so many other things. if shopping is an informed choice we must make when considering that a.) being naked is cold and socially unacceptable and b.) we exist within an inescapable capitalist society — and furthermore, that what we put on our bodies and how we present ourselves is also an informed choice which allows us to somehow express ourselves publicly on a daily basis — well, that’s a little different than Barbie’s favorite hobby and, you know, airheaded housewives dragging their fat bored rich husbands around the mall, frittering his paycheck away on girly bullshit as he drags his feet and rolls his eyes.
and that’s a fascinating double standard — that an industry so often vilified for its terrible imaging and treatment of women, and an industry which historically has done a lot to keep women economically and/or metaphorically (and physically, as in corsets and petticoats and bound feet) enslaved, is also an industry where women are taken much more seriously as an economic, artistic, and intellectual force. Fashion takes women seriously (as it should! it’s an ass ton of our money moving the whole industry!) — so why doesn’t society take fashion seriously? and if, as women, we have enormous a.) financial power within this industry as educated consumers and b.) a much larger chance of being taken seriously on the career and influencer level than in most other industries — well, fuck it, i’m going to care about it — and talk about it, about both what i love and what bothers me — and that doesn’t make me stupid either.
i’m also horrified by how everyone consistently assumes that fashion is antifeminist, that being interested in it at all, that having ANY sort of open interest in visual self-presentation and any sort of body modification is inherently shallow, inane, consumerist, that it’s for stupid girls, that girls with a nice degree like mine and girls with brains should be doing something WORTHWHILE. (you know, beauty disqualifies brains, and vice versa. of course!) i so often hear “i don’t have any interest in fashion, the industry is so messed up and it’s so shallow and consumeristic. i don’t really care what I wear, I only shop at thrift stores. i can’t stand fashionistas, i can’t stand girls who only ever talk about style. i fucking hate fashion.”
but that is, clearly, an interest in fashion. that is an incredibly intense personal statement about the ways in which your clothing choices relate to the complex web of economy and politics. that personal statement could be about reclaiming the deliberately oppressive fashion of earlier decades into a personal statement about your appearance and your money, or about rejecting one particular set of aesthetic/social norms. that is not proof of immunity to fashion and above all it is not, in any way shape or form, an acceptable excuse to dismiss fashion OR to condescend to those who express any interest in it.
so please — let’s argue back and forth about whether or not Alexander McQueen was an artist or a misogynist or both, and let’s talk about Jen Kao’s use of models of colour and with slight variations in body shape and whether or not this is progressive or pathetic. let’s talk about how and why Kirkwood’s shoes completely rule and why Rad Hourani’s insistence on unisex collections is interesting and whether or not it’s transgressive, and let’s talk about whether or not the “tribal” obsession fetishizes “third-world” nations and how our concepts of aesthetics are linked to lingering post-colonialism. let’s talk about how your self-presentation and choice of clothes is linked to your public projections of your sexuality and social ideas as well as your personality and your friends, and let’s talk about awesome young and upcoming designers who are creating beautiful things. let’s argue about whether or not Vivienne Westwood sending homeless-esque men down the runway is thought-provoking commentary or evidence of the isolation and idiocy of the wealthy fashion world (to add some humour to the situation - i saw a comment on that link that said:'Hm Vivienne Westwood.....that sounds an awful lot like.....DERELICTE.' heehee), and the ways in with both those opinions could relate to greater socioeconomic and social issues within the context of Westwood’s personal history and aesthetic. as long as we argue about it, because it is relevant. and let’s make sure we know what we’re talking about too, because “following fashion” does not make you stupid.
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