January 6, 2023 |
Look, fashion’s complicated. Some things are great, other things are not; and I sometimes like those not-so-great things as much as the great things. I think. Chat bubbles, featuring all kinds of fashion-related blah, keep me awake at night. It’s a bit like that middle aisle in Aldi: you know you shouldn’t look but, sometimes, you just can’t help it.
Pester Power
Beyond-weird fashion conversations with myself at 3am. This happened:
Me: Psst! You awake?
Also Me: You know I am.
M: Remember that Junya Watanabe cagou…
AM: Yes!
M: Well, av’ been thinking.
AM: Of course you have. I mean, OF. COURSE. YOU. HAVE. But for the sake of argument carry on…
M: Well, you could wear it inside out. You’d see the label. Which is VERY Junya. And people will comment and…
AM: I hear you.
M: Okay, you’re not going to sleep yet because that’s just stupid. Instead. And this is a really good idea: we’re going to play a game where you picture allllll the things you want to buy and then we’ll create outfits. No sleep for you, fatty.
AM: But it’s 4 in the morning!
M: We’re doing this. And we’re doing this NOW. You and me and clothes. Clothes in outfits. Then we’ll think about that time you thought you saw Theresa May returning a Fornasetti plate at 10 Corso Como.
AM: It was definitely her.
NAKED CHEF
Jamie Oliver at Home was on TV the other day. 2007! Him: baby cheeks and in Maharishi. The presenting: naive. The production: unpolished. It was just him. And food.
It felt genuine and (buzzword) authentic; likeable, not “made by committee”. It wasn’t overwrought and underlined and – eugh – filter-perfect. There was NO. SHOUTING. It was slower. Personal. None of that awful over-processed now-telly.
It was nice. Quiet. Reassuring, reasonable. Natural. And I wanted more of it.
I’m going to wager that “natural” – the search for, the return to and, more than likely, the faking of – will become a genuine, alternative life/lifestyle/aesthetic soon. A rejection of who we have become. Correction, who we now project: that made-up, morally certain, on-screen, say- anything-without-thinking-first bore – because not being seen and “liked” is, like, totally worse than, like, literally dying.
THE TUBE
TV styling is mental. Really, really crazily mental and odd. The idea of “wardrobing” real life, using “real life” clothes, shouldn’t be abstract – it’s what we wear every day – but it never really translates. With the exception of EastEnders (walk into Primark, turn around twice, walk back out again) something’s just not right about TV styling. There’s something just not right about lumberjack shirts and long-sleeved T-shirts worn underneath. Or how about a sky-blue smart shirt under a crew-neck jumper but under the sky-blue smart shirt is a turtle neck in cream! Cream! It’s just all so odd. No, worse: it’s phoney. This is the stuff Diana Vreeland warned us about. The aim, surely, is to blend in; the clothes are merely ambient. Anything other than that is turmoil.
A QUESTION OF TASTE
I have some questions about “good taste”. Firstly, is a new “bad taste” created, on purpose, by people (namely, designers) with good taste? Probably, yes, and it’s more of an evolution of what’s tasteful already to sell more clothes, and I get that.
But what about this: think of a long-line, washed-out, slightly flared denim skirt worn by the Christian screaming at women outside an abortion clinic in North Carolina. Got it? It’s awful, isn’t it.
Then, this same long-line, washed-out, slightly flared denim skirt is now worn by Yumi. Yumi is a final year fashion design student at Bunka University in Tokyo. She wears her denim skirt with a long-sleeved matelot striped top, white socks with a tiny silk bow and penny loafers. It is the very same skirt, but on two very different women in that same, odd “off the pulse” fit; yet Yumi’s skirt is cool and Anti-Abortion Woman’s skirt is not. Why?
ALL SAINTS
Flip flops in the city. Are you insane? That’s an ungodly dialogue between feet and floor. You really are knocking on hell’s door trolling round dear old Soho: a pharmacist’s otherwise-locked- drawer of corn plasters, paper knickers and rusty needles. The syringe count! Imagine one of those harbingers impaling your toe through your palm-print Havainas. Not that any of this is stopping flip flop fans from shopping. Good luck to the Appleton sisters Gen Z tribute band I spotted in Oxford Street yesterday. Those girls looked great: huge combats, racer-back tees, tons of lip gloss and extremely ironed hair with stripy bits. But none of them dare commit to those barely-there stripper brows All Saints tweezed into a state of perma-quizzical surrender way back when. Amateurs.
CONSUMERIST DEITIES
It’s possible to have an emotional connection with a brand. Various brands – and I mean the actual brand itself – can whip us into a state of joy. I love the ‘Comme des Garçons’ label stitched in the back; ‘Prada’, too. ‘Kvadrat’, ‘Margiela’ and, of course, anything and everything ‘Vitsœ’. I also love the brand (and the word) ‘De’Longhi’ – it’s the one you’ll see stamped on the side of those shiny coffee machines that come in chrome. Google it: the branding sits in an Egyptian cartouche and the acute accent on the é lies flat; it’s a thing of absolute joy. It also grinds a really good coffee.
You know, it was only recently that I realised I’ve actually been getting completely off my tits, on coffee, every morning for the past 30 years. Completely and perfectly legally off my tits. Every day. Since, forever. I’ll have a double; nix the foam.
I SAW A GAY DOG ON WEDNESDAY
Well, a picture of one on Instagram. A dappled sausage dog wearing a leather, studded Muir cap and a black leather BDSM harness. Good for him. A gay leather daddy dog. His harness design was the same leather harness that Alaïa’s creative director, Pieter Mulier, has wrapped around his new straw shopper. That’s some kind of segue: but I have 10 seconds to tell you how completely wonderful his assignment has been so far. There’s more to come but just stand back and see what’s been already. Then picture the Insta gay dog (let’s call him Mike) being carried inside his very own gay Alaïa bondage shopper: now that’s the kind of filthy fashion fetish we’re all up for.
BLACK’S BACK (AGAIN)
I like black. I’ve worn it for years. But there’s a problem: I’ve done black forever and recently got a thing for blue. Navy blue. That very Jil Sander navy blue. Also, that very Prada navy blue. The new Prada crew neck jumper, the wool trousers; a white cotton shirt and black lace-up shoes. That look – that kind of blue. God, that feels good. It looks good and even feels good to mention navy.
Navy really feels good on. And rich. It’s like camel, but that very honey-coloured camel: now that’s rich. It’s “the carpet at the autumn Saint Laurent show” camel; the Chanel-default camel; the Helmut Lang raincoat in 1997 camel. Expensive! Chic! Divine! Navy is in that world of rich- people-colour. Black is still rich. But is it as rich as it once was: when it was stinkingly, filthy rich? It really is everywhere.
A DEFT HAND IN THE DARK ARTS
Black, the very black black: a Comme des Garçons black or their own-label devoted to black: “BLACK”. Or that very Balenciaga runway-black, the one which makes us feel more present than before when we wear it. Black black is outer-space black, it’s a nothingness black; it’s a negative- black. It’s a there/not there black: it’s static noise! It’s that black, the Rick Owens jet black. It’s that jet black and negative black: it’s cold and hard and sometimes cruel.
Like fashion.
HOUSE-PROUD
Folding dishcloths is a creative endeavour.
“What’s he banging on about now etc?” Well, let me take you to the very neat, very quiet, very peaceful land of dishcloths. Folding dishcloths brings a new order to things: they’re regimented and in-line; look, they’re super-neat now. No wonk.
Folding dishcloths is also boring. Really and extremely boring. But boring can be creative as well: in the absence of excitement the mind gathers focus and welcomes boredom in; then the mind gets creative. Tell everyone you know immediately: folding dishcloths is, like, totally in.
Taken from Issue 56 of 10 Men – PEACE, COURAGE, FREEDOM – on newsstands now. Order your copy here.
