I hate trends. They’re expensive, ephemeral and remind me of cheap uniforms with expiration dates.
Take gladiator sandals, for instance. I wouldn’t wear them even if I were a gladiator. They crawl up your legs concealing one’s calf that I think is the sexiest part of a woman’s lower limb. Why anyone would want to look like they’ve shopped at The Coliseum in Rome is beyond me. All you’d need is a toga, a lion and a steak to complete your outfit.
What about this summer’s explosion of low cut dresses worn way before 5, more like 8 in the morning? There’s something about decolletage with a bagel that doesn’t sit well with me. There really should be a law against cleavage and carbs at that early hour. I’m thinking of writing to Tom Ford or at least Zabars to get their input.
Then we have the chronic problem of inappropriate sizing. A woman who can barely squeeze into a 12 has no business stuffed in a 6. She looks like a tube of Gleem with its contents pushed to the top not to mention what it’s doing to her organs. Rather than 2 she now has one big kidney.
This also causes panty-line that well, NO UNDERWEAR if that’s what it takes. REMOVE THONG IN DOORWAY if necessary but don’t bring me down with that ugly seam across your butt that if you wore the right size, I wouldn’t have to look at to begin with. Forget parking, they should give tickets to all dress, skirt and trouser offenders.
I feel a woman looks so great in jeans, a white blouse and a pair of flats. This outfit is easy to throw together. You can practically wear it anywhere especially if you invest in a little black tailored jacket.
But this is where stupidity and style collide. You somehow have to know how to mix and match organically. No, a polka-dotted bustier over army fatigues will not do.
No one can teach style, it has to be felt.
“Did Coco Chanel say that?”
“No, I did”.
Go to FIT, ‘The Fashion Institute of Technology’ any day of the week and check out its body of students. Many of them are there on scholarship, in other words they’re not rich, yet they each have an individual look all their own that you can’t help but admire.
Style, it’s simply there like shoulders or feet. When I see a girl in an ensemble she’s emulated from the pages of Vogue, I want to kidnap her, slap her then immediately take her to Saks. If this ever comes to pass it would behoove whomever it was to stay calm and cooperate fully.
I knew a woman who worked in a tattoo parlor. Tattoos, if you don’t already know, are not my favorite accessory (8/5), but despite the Disney characters living along her arms, she looked great.
Her name was Blythe and she always wore black slim trousers nicely pressed, with a Cloroxed white Hanes V-necked T-shirt and a smart, black cardigan sweater. On her feet, black Keds. Even when Goofy or Sneezy peeked out from one of her wrists, she looked like a living doll.
How did I know a girl who worked in a tattoo parlor?
I was dating a biker at the time. Don’t forget, I’m a model and he looked fantastic with my leopard tights and Fiorucci black motorcycle jacket.
But doesn’t style cost money?
Not necessarily, not these days when you have stores like: Anthropology, Banana, Forever 21, The Gap, H&M, J Crew, Old Navy, The Armani Exchange, Urban Outfitters. With a good eye and a few bucks you can emerge looking amazing at a very reasonable price.
Do I shop at these places?
Absolutely, but in my case I’ll admit, my eye tends to wander to more pricey venues like Prada and Ralph Lauren. No, I’m not rich even if I do model and unless you’re in the same tax bracket say, as a ‘Giselle’, who can afford such threads?
We can, if we go to ‘Designer Resale’ one of my favorite haunts on the Upper East Side. (322 E. 81st Street) Here you can get all kinds of designer duds for a fraction of the original price.”
I know, they’re used, but just slightly and they only take in the very best. I would rather buy a Chanel skirt gently worn than a new one cheaply made from Ann Taylor. But that’s part of my own personal style, the point I’ve been trying, for 600 words now, to convey.
Don’t copy the magazines. Figure out what’s best for you, what feels good and sensual against your skin then run with it, that’s style.
The other, don’t, adhering to what Anna Wintour and her tribe at Vogue claims is in, is DULL DULL DULL. Now she wears a lot of Prada and I bet they’re samples, gifts or at least bought whole sale – that’s her style I suppose, free, cheap and convenient but it’s hers, and hers alone. Rent the film, ‘The September Issue’ if you’d like to know more about Vogue’s infamous, though well dressed, Editor-in-chief.
To sum it up, if you wrapped yourself in cellophane, added a belt then jumped into hip boots (no zippers, never zippers) and you owned it, I guarantee the world would stop to appreciate your ‘Personal Sense of Self’ which is really what style boils down to.
And how much could a few rolls of Saran Wrap cost anyway?
Remember, you can always buy in bulk.