This is one of the best collections I have seen in a while, and that is saying something. I know I might be displaying a great deal of hubris in saying this, but I feel like in my humble opinion designers often get too gimmicky and overdesign stuff. If you aren't blind, you can see that this isn't at all the case here.
With a palette of pure white, I guess its pretty easy to venture into futuristic day-spa worker territory. Here this look is even slightly encouraged (see Victoriana-maid-ish collars), but with enough sophisticated irony to not have the wearer be mistaken for a character in Poirot.
The sheer tartan is spectacular. I kinda missed it since it was on the D&G runway a few years back. It is surely the best way of making dowdy = sexy and awesome, and its a bit of a nod toward the fetish theme on a lot of this season's runways, albeit an minimalistic, chic, rather virtuous nod.
Might I mention the white pieces again? I'll allow that the whole white thing has potential for being a little boring. BUT. See that hint of sheer in the blouses and tops? See that layering? Kinda dangerous (in a perfectly rad way), no? Kinda...... fetishistic. Very..... interesting. Decidedly devoid of ennui. So, to summarize the epitome of awesome in white vestments:
carefully measured irony + simplicity + beautiful craftsmanship/tailoring + sternness + the barest hint of sexuality + a teeny bit of menswear = a recipe for AWESOME!!!!!!!
I guess I should be a little more blasé about this whole affair, to match the mood of the actual collection, but I'm finding this very hard. And I also realize this is in sharp contrast to my previous post. But in my opinion beauty and depravity go hand in hand.
To begin with, I apologize in advance for the abundance of pictures. They're just....... so beautiful. *Dashes away tears in the Jane Austen manner, with monogrammed handkerchief*
Where to begin. Because I've been working on a slightly dull-as-all-hell math project lately, let me put it to y'all in one simple-as-all-hell formula.
skinny,tight-fitting, long-sleeved shirts + colourful/graphic prints + classic Burberry-style sex-bombery = I WANT IT
This one especially. Oh, Jourdan Dunn, I am turquoise with envy..... (oh I kill myself with my wit.) Seriously, though, who knew you could make a trench coat so..... tight? Like I said, pure and unadulterated sex-bombery, cinched in with a nigh-on fetishistic belt. Subtle, but "packs a punch", a phrase I despise under normal circumstances. But here, I must admit, it is quite apt.
And the hats are just the cherry on top, almost literally. They are on the edge of superfluous -- if Christopher Bailey had decided to make them even a modicum more colourful they could have thrown the whole thing off -- but in muted shades they just make the whole shebang more quirky (I hate that word, but for want of a better one...) and oh-I-just-played-doubles-with-my-pal-Yasmin Le Bon-it-was-divine-but-I-gotta-go-the Vaccines-invited-me-to-go-have-drinks-backstage-with-them. Like a boss.
Again with the graphic prints -- they are everywhere, and I'm sure as hell not complaining. Anything that makes an icky autumn in London seem more like a safari in Central Africa with Garance Doré sounds A-OK.
Well, not really. I got back two+ weeks ago. But I really REALLY enjoyed the opportunity for wearing summer dresses and the like. My favourite example:
That's me holding a turtle, by the way. Only in Florida would one find a turtle just chillin' like a villain (as the kids nowadays say) in the middle of a road. So we rescued him/her (didn't want to check which, really.)
So. Maybe we should depart from turtles, cute and masochistic as they may be, and focus on this dress of mine. Here is a close-up of the print -- sea shells and weird amorphous coral. What I like most is the colour, though. I spent about three days trying to describe its colour... coral is just too.... much of an understatement. Its more like.... flamingo-fed-with-aqueous-bromine-infused-shrimp. Or a Floridian sunset.
Or the flowers on this beautiful tree.
But I will allow coral. Plus, I'm really feeling summer dresses now because its spring, and there is nothing more pleasant than a British spring, I daresay, and so I'm happy (if you overlook the fact that exams are right round the corner... ick) so I'm wearing happy colours. Cause and effect. Think St. Thomas Aquinas would be proud? No. I don't think he would be. Ignore that.
I was also inspired by my grandma's very glamourous 50s getups I found while flipping through some old photo albums (also an inspiration for the summer dresses). They. Were. Awesome.
My Gram is the one in the dark dress. Quod erat demonstrandum. In the words of the immortal Dr. Gregory House, "See, I use Latin because I'm an ass." But I'm not really... House is, see, not me... I give up. Anyhoo, I inherited one of her home made dresses and a number of other garments, which I shall post in good time.
-- All photos by me, and taken in Florida (which by the way is not at all a real fashion hot spot, and you know that, but I'm not gonna say anything mean about anyone's home state.)
NEW SHOES, from Fly London. I (well, ok, my mommy dearest) got them off amazon -- 50% off! Qu'est-ce que c'est que ça*?, I hear you cry! Well, allow me to point out that mommy dearest is the ultimate in frugal Scottish bargain hunters. 'Nuf said.
Are you hyperventilating yet?
And these are also astoundingly -- I mean ASTOUNDINGLY -- comfortable. As in, I can even wear them with my mom's weird-ass corrective insoles in them and they feel like steel-toes made of clouds. I could wear them to have tea in Paris with Garance Doré (dream on) or to hike through the mighty forests of British Columbia, like Michael Palin the gay lumberjack. Who's autograph I have. BY THE WAY.
('Scuse the all-caps. SORRY FOR MAKING YOU YELL IN YOU HEAD! Hehehee)
Oh, and also, the last picture is bad. Meaning, don't look at my disproportionate leg. Despite appearances, I do not have Elephantitis.
Moving on subito, I also love the patent leather-ness of the shoes, and. as the title may suggest, how badass they are -- Tank Girl meets Blahnik, no? (I find the curve of where the shoe meets the sole is reminiscent of his illustrations. You can call me a private-school brat now.)
So. Note to self: Never give Mom a chance to wear these. Nay, Superglue to feet.
I will be going to sunny Venice, Florida for the Easter holidays, and so expect a break in my blogging for about 2-3 weeks. Ooooh, I'm awfully excited! To console you when you see my tan, here is a playlist. Hope you like.
Doin' It Right -- The Go! Team Fake Plastic Trees -- Radiohead Make Me Wanna Die -- The Pretty Reckless (even if Taylor Momsen needs to get her posterior on Snog Marry Avoid, this is a good song) Loser -- Beck Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want -- The Smiths Ready For the Floor -- Lissy Trullie Miss World -- Hole Graduate -- Third Eye Blind Trouble is a Friend -- Lenka Girl -- The Beatles Enter the Ninja -- Die Antwoord Wedding Bells -- Lissie New Dawn Fades -- Joy Division Plastic Beach -- Gorillaz feat. Mick Jones and Paul Simonon Shove It -- Santigold feat. SpankRock Baba O'Reilly -- The Rolling Stones Itchycoo Park -- The Small Faces Dead Sound -- The Raveonettes
Well. So ahhbviously I was blown away by the sheer genius of these clothes. I mean, what could be better than insane psychedelia printed onto clothes, which, well, 'mean business'? Nothing, I tell you. NOTHING!
Allow me to elaborate. I have always had a penchant for garments which other people may find revolting (and often -- very often -- do). Which sounds pretentious and a little weird, but it is true. I could tell that style.com didn't really like this collection from their restrained but disdainful little post on the subject. I found the article irritating and snobbish (no room for fun in Vogue! No, siree!) but that is beside the point. So, what I 'm saying is... take the rod out of your posterior, fashion-people of all rank, and take a little time to appreciate stylistic exuberance, regardless of whether or not it fits with the heritage of the fashion house. Anyway, I have always appreciated clothes which have a heavy dose (some might say an OD) of colour. BUT. Although I cherish insanely poofy de la Renta ballgowns as much as anyone and then some, I find that, me being me, I couldn't actually wear one without feeling like a dumpy meringue. Regardless of how amazing they look on the runway. (Oh, and hey! Look above! I love how the background to the clothes actually interacts with the fashion itself. The fabric and background blend together and kinda undulate... I love it. The model looks like she's growing out of the wall.) So this is just me putting in a little word (which won't necessarily make a difference to die-hard crini-fans) for the sleek, edgy-elegant silhouettes of these beauties (regardless of what kind of bonkers materials they consist of, see above) that make copious amounts of colour actually look TOTALLY rad. This last is my favourite (this and the light blue one), partly because the colour of the sleeves and belt is my very favourite colour in the whole wide world. Oh, and I didn't even mention how cool the stripy obi-type belts are! You know how cool? Very very cool! And I also like the model's expression. That is to say, get out of the range of my rage-activated laser vision and shut the hell up, unless you wanna die. Which is oftentimes how I feel in Biology class.
Recently I've been seeing some awesome colors on the runway, and I don' believe I'm the only one who has had the pleasure of observing this phenomenon. Awesome colors can even come from bastard anti-Semites, excuse my French. I think we all know who I'm talking about here.
Oh, but the peach and midnight blue chiffon! Plus, those look totally comfy. But it might not be a great idea to trust Dior, who revived the corset, in that respect. Not hugely wild about the hair and makeup here either. But Chloé here is a totally different story. (Sophisticated segué attempt.) This is what my hair (and wardrobe, for that matter) would look like in a dream world. Plus, I now automatically think every bleached-blonde on the runway is Andrej Pejic. Who is epic. By the way. I really love this shade of green; I can't think of a lot of designers who would have the guts to throw a reptilian print in the mix. But. It. Works. Oh. So. Well. Ditto with the yellow.
I know this doesn't have a lot to do with colour (ahem) but its just too fifties costumey crini-orphan to pass up. And just by coincidence, I am listening to Paint It Black at this very moment. In all seriousness.
I wanna see you painted black as night, black as coal...
A long as there is a tad bit of bright yellow snakeskin involved. Sorry, Coco Chanel.