Why I Don't Often Post About High Fashion

So I was leafing through one of the ten or so doorstop-sized fashmags I have delivered to my house every August, and saw a really fantastic wool skirt from Marni. "Aha!" I thought. "I can certainly post about this because I love it, it looks vintage-y, and it wouldn't be that hard to make yourself …"

But can I find a reasonable picture of it, short of scanning the actual magazine page? No, I cannot. And I'm not willing to spend hours trawling through runway pictures or visiting dodgy ecommerce sites (some of which PLAY MUSIC ON LOAD, which is quite possibly the most annoying thing you can do on your website, just so you know) just to find a picture of it. 

If I were running a fashion magazine (which obviously I'm not) I would have a blogger index on the magazine's website with thumbnails of images, tagged with both issue date and keywords. Add watermarks if you like, and maybe even offer an affiliate program for linking certain images to online shops — you'd get people linking back to you with credit, I bet. You could even make bloggers apply for access. Does anyone do this? The only thing that I can think even comes close might be Polyvore.

Anyway, this is the best I can do: 

Please ignore the gratuitous almost-cleavage and the truly heinous accessories (although the bag is really cute, in a completely impractical way) and the model's expression, which I think is trying to convey a combination of stern disapproval of the entire goings-on, and suppressed laughter. 

You can't tell from the image but the skirt (if indeed this is the same one) seems to have four gores with a gorgeous pleat right in the center of each gore. It's swingy and modern and vintage-y all at the same time (that description should also tell you why I'm not a fashion writer).

If anyone knows the skirt I'm referring to (can't even find the magazine right now — ANOTHER reason why I'm not a high-fashion blogger) please leave a comment with a better description!

Advertisements

Camouflagellation

So I was wondering if I've already posted about this dress, or if, because it's camouflage, it has merely blended in with the rest of the blog, and that's why I can't find it:


 

This is currently my favorite casual dress, even though the fabric is a bit on the pilly side. Here's a closeup of the bodice — I took this picture after I'd worn the dress about a dozen times, so you might even be able to see the pilling: 


 

I do think it's a little disturbing, how much I love camouflage as a print. Perhaps it's my knee-jerk Gen X "irony" (in the debased sense of "incongruity") or maybe it's just that I am in love with idea that you need so much technology to ape what are supposed to be organic forms, or that I enjoy the absurdity of making fairly distinctive clothing out of something that was originally intended to make the wearer blend into the background. Whatever it is, I just keep doing it. If you had to categorize my fabric stash, the second-biggest category (after "Liberty," of course!) is "camouflage."

I have pink, blue, bright green, and several colors of brown camo, in addition to this gray, but weirdly enough I can't seem to find what I think would be the ur-color of non-blending camouflage: blaze-orange camouflage. Wouldn't that be awesome? Hunter orange camo! If I had some of that I would probably have to be physically restrained from wearing it twice a week, but that level of absurdity and self-contradiction would make me really happy. So if you see some, let me know, okay?

In A World …

I want to see the movie that this still/pattern image was taken from. Three college friends go to a dinner party thrown by some creepy old dude in a creepy old mansion on the edge of town (on a dare, of course, because in the movies just saying "I dare you!" makes people do all kinds of dumb things). Inevitably, they get separated and have to deal with scary stuff jumping out at them from dark corners. (Anything with that weird chandelier/sconce/creepy mirror in it has to be a horror movie, right?)

In the end, the blonde one dies (she's a bit of a ditz, and the ditz always gets it), the yellow-dress escapes (she looks too sensible to do anything but escape), and the one in the black dress, vacant-eyed, stays with the creepy old dude in the creepy old house (despite the tearful protests of Yellow Dress). Flash forward twenty-five years, and it's a group of male college friends going to a dinner party thrown by creepy old lady … dum dum dum dum … STILL wearing that beehive hairdo and the same Dior dress!

I'm assuming the weird necklace exerts a certain level of mind control. It's the only explanation for it. Bonus points if it's a scarab! 

My question: who plays creepy old dude?