The What I Wores
Out on out on fits.
Fashion week! Fashion week! Fashion week! As the street style during Fashion Week debate continues (does anyone else feel like this season’s Times story on the evolution of street style and what it might be doing to Fashion Week at large bared a striking resemblance to last season’s Times story on street style and the neo-Billboard nature of getting dressed for the cameras?–more on this, later), I have to shudder at the thought of concrete catwalk (so bad, it’s good, eh?) inspiration losing its validity. There is no question that the ordeal has become something of a circus, but it’s not the fault of the photos or even really the people in the photos so much as it is a function of the world we’ve conditioned ourselves to subsist in.
Personally, I find that every single season, my getting dressed for Fashion Week is wholly dependent on the people around me. Maybe not the head-to-toe Prada looks or enormous, overzealous head contraptions but so often will I mentally prepare something to wear, subsequently feel excited about it and then find that the people around me are doing it differently, doing it gracefully, doing it better. Black socks with white shoes? Of course! Three layers of a combination of denim, plaid, and leather? No brainer. There’s simply something endearing and approachable about taking a page from the subjective experts on the peripheral lines at Fashion Week, and this is seemingly where runway inspiration fails. The aspiration factor just seems too removed.
Now, I don’t want to delve too deep into this before posting a proper reaction to the ongoing aforementioned debate but I will say that the particular Suzy Menkes piece from The Times really had me questioning whether or not I should follow my own suit and catalog the various outfits I wore this season. It is a bit off putting, isn’t it? To scour the internet for photos of yourself and then share them? To be fair, there weren’t very many. The apparent denim-capade I’ve been on may getting a bit banal, but so what, who cares? (Said in the voice of Amy Poehler for Bronx Beat.) I’ll work with what I’ve got and offer a stealthy share because this is, after all, a personal style blog. Maybe you’ll like it, maybe you’ll hate it. We’ll get to the meat of that soon.
At left: Acne jacket, Uniqlo plaid shirt, Peter Pilotto pants, Isabel Marant booties. At right: Stella McCartney overalls, Isabel Marant lace blouse and in both instances, that’s a Reece Hudson wristlet clutchlet. Kind of like a chicken cutlet but also not at all.
At left: Dries van Noten coat (Barney’s Warehouse score, people), Ellery suit, Lands End white blouse, Sophia Webster minaudiere. At right: Margiela x HM coat, Aritzia beanie, American Apparel denim shirt, Paige jeans, Dannijo x Cynthia Rowley collar, Celine heels and my perman-friend’s socks.
Deduction? I really, really, like ripped jeans and beanies and wearing coats as capes. Also, red lipstick makes not wearing any other makeup far less abrasive. Okay, your turn to talk. Share anything below.