Enduring The Flame of Rosie Assoulin
It is so hard to divorce the consumer that I am by virtue of loving clothes from the critic I would like to be by virtue of wanting to talk about clothes. Never does it seem as difficult to separate these respective churches from their states, though, as it does when I’m up against a collection like the most recent of Rosie Assoulin.
Never mind the gowns, or gown tops, with their hand painted stripes in phenomenal color pairings and quirky, backside nuances that confirm it: making an entrance is impressive, but making an exit is monumental.
Never mind the lengths, which don’t let women feel like lesser versions of themselves with the generous space they provide to let legs be legs. You don’t even have to mind the salient details — a cargo pocket here, a dramatic sleeve there.
The I have to have you feeling that Assoulin provides comes from an intimate connection. It leaves your jaw dropped open, your stomach aflutter and your finger tips clenching the inside of your pockets, and this has very little to do with shapes or colors or lengths.
Because her ability to take quotidian silhouettes (like a marled knit or a men’s classic board short) and not revolutionize them, but evolve them (with slits across the shoulders or through a fabric like faille) is where the real talent lies. Assoulin knows how to strike a connection between the wearer and her clothes — to make the wearer feel like she is being hugged and arguably more importantly like she never needs to change.
Out of her clothes or her ideals.
How could it be that such crisp, unassuming but chiefly new garments like pink wide leg cotton pants — vaguely reminiscent of pajamas, or a white shirt dress with a navy blue breast-sache, or green cargo board shorts could make a woman who has never known them before also make her question how she’s been living without them?
They say you can’t un-see things and they’re right but at least, when it comes to fashion, you can have them.