Comme des Garcons Fall 2010

For months I've been looking at this collection and I haven't come up with anything better than the jumble of associations it stirred at first sight. I thought of protect-me-from the world jackets. This can well be idiotic but I have nothing to go on with, and yet this is one of those intrusively problematic collections that demands to be interpreted. So anyway, could it be a commentary on the protective role of clothing, considering that padding is used for protection as well as figure shaping? Part of the thrill of deconstruction - a method often used in CdG collections - is making visible that which is supposed to remain invisible. The exposed seams point out the distinctions of that which is supposed to be an organic whole. Dare I assume that this collection puts into the limelight the protective function of clothing, another aspect that's supposed to be elegantly concealed by style?

Could it be that the heavily padded structured jackets are pointing at the comforting/empowering role that formal clothes bestow on the wearer? Are the convoluted strips of padding supposed to evoke large prints (perhaps rose patterns)? If yes, are they trying to say that in fashion even decoration is a shield? And the protruding padding, is it supposed to look unfinished or, to the contrary, torn, undone, and exposed? Is it, perhaps, a hint that this collection is about the various protective roles of clothing which are expected to be overshadowed by design?

heels step into a higher cycle

There was something about this on Salon a couple of days ago: somebody who goes by the name of giddyspinster makes flower pots out of stripper heels, and sells them on her etsy page:
































After having their top removed, the shoes are drilled for drainage and sanded. Giddyspinster's plants of choice are cacti and succulents, which, we must understand, are her best metaphor for the 'the increasingly artificial nature of American femininity, and the impossible images that women face in our society. It's a prickly, spiky, sticky situation...'.

And if books on feminism overflow your library, why not stack them neatly in this book holder made of upcycled stilettos?














For a moment there, I thought these objects claim to be art. If they did, I'd write a longer paragraph saying that it's cliche and I'd also insert that video from Ghost World about the tampon in a cup pretending to be an art object. I don't quite follow the logic of this metaphor, and I think that heels can't help being cliches even when they're mocked. At the same time, I like the idea of making them into something else. What rubs me the wrong way about giddyspinster's approach is that it perpetuates the shoe fetishism instead of dismantling it. Either that, or the fact that in my eyes these shoes are kitschy beyond salvation through upcycling.

hues

My friend F. is invited to a wedding with the following dress-code: everyone must wear one color only, and it can't be black nor white (the creatively challenged are threatened with a punishment). Ton-sur-ton outfits are actually more interesting than they sound. Coincidentally, the style site has a selection on the topic (apparently this is a trend), of which I made a selection (ton-sur-ton? selection-of-selection? get it?):







These were: TSE, Richard Nicoll, Oscar de la Renta, Margiela, and Charles Anastase. The next one's Bottega Veneta, and the difference in the hues makes its placement in this selection disputable, but who wants to be pedantic. As it happens, my friend F. has a beautiful pair of pink trousers which she could build on to replicate this outfit, but she's partial to yellow these days. So, Bottega Veneta:



The next two are from Vivienne Westwood's Fall 2010 collections. This dress looks like it's made from a huge supermarket plastic bag. The folds are both sculptural and light:



And this one I selected because I was surprised how well wine and yellow go together, but ironically I'm placing it here: if we make abstraction of that little yellow cardigan, we see an interesting hue-on-hue outfit.

Fucking Amal

'Fucking Amal' (sanitized version: 'Show me love') might be my favorite film about adolescence (and a few other things). Small town, depressing provincialism, quietly beautiful misfit Agnes loves Elin, the popular blond whose spirit is too big for her clique. Earnestly assumed growing pains deserve the happy ending, which is just a beginning, really.

I like the use of red in this film. Granted, red for non-conformism isn't all that original, but the details make all the difference. Elin's dissent is raw, unbound energy. Although the strap of her bra showing from under the glaring red camisole is probably deliberate, the ensemble looks vulgar. The interesting thing is that Elin seems uncomfortable in her skimpy outfits: too exposed, shivering in the evening cold on the bridge, or doubtful, in front of her mirror preparing for the party. Agnes, on the other hand, is a 'closeted' free thinker who, wisely, doesn't make a point of standing out. Her khakis and red sweatshirt, her classical haircut are respectfully conventional yet beyond passing trends: she could be from the late seventies or the eighties or the nineties. Maybe it's a case of using convention as a shield, though I doubt it: militancy isn't her thing, she wants to live and let live. We never see her trying to decide what to wear. Comfortable and secure within convention, Agnes doesn't need to wear statement clothes to be herself. But there are symbols of serene superiority, too, like the air balloon pattern on her shirt.

Chanel's Fall 2010 Couture

Yes, everyone's raving about it, and I'm jumping on the bandwagon. The first half of the collection was kinda boring. No really, it was nice and all, but way too wearable and less than couturey. Some of those furry hems and golden mid-calf boots made me think of Russian fairy tales, but I flipped to the next picture thinking 'It's just my imagination trying to fill in for Karl's.' The first seriously weird outfit came about halfway through the show, but still, it was kindergarten matinee kind of weird, which is good enough, but still, depending on what else is there. Well, there was ...tapestry! At least it looked like it. Some of it had roses and went with lace and tulle:





And some of it - or was it still just my imagination? - looked like what Vassilisa the Beautiful might wear to a business meeting:



To give you an idea, here's Vassilisa's everyday get-up:



Towards the end of the collection, however, came something which cannot - I don't care about Karl's actual inspiration, which seems to have a lot to do with lions, whatever - cannot be anything but Vassilisa's Sunday best:





And happily, the bride's dress was a variation on the same theme (it's probably good that the groom's not wearing a caftan; it would have looked corny, I guess. But so did the tuxedo, in that context):



Right, and there were a few dresses which seemed to be decorated with frog skins:

the uncanny

the first time I saw these elderly twins, they had the same hairstyle, wearing the same lipstick, and the same trench-coat and chiffon head-kerchief, except one was all pink, and the other was all green. They were walking quietly, minding their own business, and after passing them by I turned away to stare some more. There was nobody else on the street, and for a while I wondered if perhaps they were a hallucination. Or a dream that I remembered as reality (I do that sometimes). This was three years ago. Then last year I saw them again, on the bus. Again, their get-ups mirrored each other, down to the little redhead dolls dangling from the zippers of their purses. After that I started running into them more often, sometimes on that bus (always on Tuesdays around 1pm), sometimes on the street, and the fact that everyone was passing them by as if not noticing made me doubt my senses every time. Until once, finally, another guy turned his head in amazement as they were getting off the bus.

A few months ago I saw them on the cover of a health magazine. There was an interview with them. That's how I found out that they're local celebrities (which explains somewhat why nobody looked surprised; and also, duh, it's not polite to stare), that they're 84 and have been living together for the last 50 years, that they've always studied then worked at the same places, as seamstresses and then in restaurants. They were never married, and they have a strict schedule that they follow every day. Their names are Jeanne and Marcelle.

None of this subtracts from my amazement each time I run into them. They're like a rupture in the metric flow of being. In case you're beginning to doubt my account (completely understandable), here's a video. You'll see them talking, singing, dancing, doing laundry, and throwing looks of disapproval at a woman in a short skirt. Oh, I used to go to that laundry once upon a time.

..in which M goes House and Garden

I've already discussed this with, um, about a third of my readership (see tag) (if there are any lurkers out there to contradict my estimation, now's the time to show yourselves! no? nobody? well, I had to ask...), but since the more I look at the pictures, the more I become convinced that this is a case of 'I wanna be like her when I grow up', seems like a good reason to post about it.

So, about ten years ago, a man and a woman were brought together by their common interest in gardening. One thing lead to another, and they got married, and will henceforth be referred to as Mr. and Mrs. Foster. A rundown farm was purchased to act as family home. Mr. Foster, finding himself on a losing streak business-wise, stayed home at The Countryside and tended to the farm, which needed heavy duty repair. Mrs. Foster held on to her job in The City to earn money and pay for everything. Seemed like a perfect arrangement. Only soon enough Mrs.Foster began noticing that Mr.Foster and her differed in several important aspects. To put it bluntly, Mr.Foster was a messy guy, and, apparently, just couldn't help it. Mrs.Foster, on the other hand, couldn't help feeling rather downhearted for that reason. At some point, the story has it, the disappointment was significant enough to bring Mrs.Foster to the verge of a nervous breakdown. At that point a decision was made - no, not to divorce - to sell the farm and buy a property with two homes, one for each (and anyway, why divorce an otherwise perfectly sweet man who loves to bake rolls?).

Now, about those homes: one of them was a trailer, and the other - a tiny shabby cottage on the other side of the stream, with no kitchen, no bathroom, and no running water.

And yet, the cottage looked like dream house material to Mrs. Foster. She rolled up her sleeves and set to work, and rambled flea-markets during breaks. She did everything herself, and only called on Mr.Foster once, to help her lift some heavy stuff. Here's the result:



And the fashion bit: as becomes a superwoman, Mrs.Foster is good at everything, including styling (I'm so glad to see that she accessorizes with dogs!):

Ok, I'll give you a moment to pick up your jaws. While doing that, look at this nice picture of one of the door handles:



So, the place still doesn't have running water nor heating (and, sadly, it isn't habitable in winter), but even a sissy like myself went 'who needs running water?!' upon seeing this:



The NYT profile (where these wonderful pictures are from) said that the house's interior looked like a wedding cake. I associate wedding cakes with the creepy Miss Havisham's, of 'Great Expectations' (well, basically, when she was young her fiance didn't show up at the altar, and despite being about 200 years old, she still lives in her wedding dress and has the dried up wedding cake as main decorative piece in her lounge). The NYT writer clearly doesn't have the same associations: the house is the opposite of creepy (although I'd like to see a creepy wedding cake interior too..).

Now, if you're wondering about the other house, the trailer, I have to say, it looks great as well. Different, but still great. I urge you not to take my word for it and to follow the link. There are many more wonderful pictures there, which unfortunately I couldn't embed here.