Thursday, August 24, 2006
Despite what other may belive, I've never perceived fashion as an individualized sport. Every season has it's trends, no buts about it. No room for rule-bending. What's in was in and that was that. But as my relationship with magazine culture, glossy advertising and the business of looking chic reaches a more intimate level, I realize that I have never been more wrong. Marc by Marc Jacobs parades his grungy layers around with moxie. Yves Saint Laurent prostitutes his hardass trouser/tunic sets with panache. Chloe pushes their flowing neutral sheaths with befitting nonchalance. While trends may not display a great adaptability, runways collections are as protean as people themselves. From the ripped-tee riot grrl to the neat and tidy Aunt Jemima, each element of their outfit is a unique trait suited to their inner beings. A woman can look just as good in a business skirt as she can in a miniskirt, because there are different parts to the same person and fashion must cater to every segment. Such is the beauty of rationality, fashionality and individuality. Let's dedicate a moment of silence (or awe) to the fashion Gods on Mount Olympus for the gift of clothing each and every aspect of our forms, however different those forms may be.