Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Fashion and the Colors of the Inauguration



Fashion is a tell. Given that ideologists who claim the moral highroad – your more zealous socialists and Christians for example– fall so short of any thinking person's notion of an ideal, I'm using another yardstick: not ideology, but Style- elegance as its own virtue.

By this measure, an event so disappointing to so many, for reasons arguably more substantial than palette, often fell short. But there were a few wins, on both sides of the aisle.

Red, White, and Blue (Or in this case, bleu, blanc, et rouge):


Blue
We could start with red- our commander in chief and that blinding tie. But like much else in life, it's all about the girl- Mrs. Trump. The Jackie Kennedy cut of that dress and jacket was regal, especially when the jacket came off at luncheon, revealing nothing but more austere, becoming modesty. It was pure class, with a pleasingly militaristic edge of discipline- very nearly kink- underscored by the gloves, to say nothing of the point-toed, slender-heeled shoes. Restraint is always in excellent taste- here, in the restriction to that single shade of blue.

But the wrong shade. Among so many, many more significant things I might have wished were different, I wanted life in that blue- something juicy, something that quenches. I wanted a blue I would gaze at for its own sake, a touchable blue, a blue like the Tiffany's box Mrs. Trump presented to Mrs. Obama (a classy, warm gesture). This was a cold and clammy blue, lifeless, rather than a shade cool and refreshing.

Yves Klein Nike of Samothace
Blue hit its high note at the inaugural ball. After a dowdy afternoon, Mrs Pence was radiant in sophisticated "Yves Klein" blue. Apart from the color's source, this was homegrown chic. The designer? Designers actually- a collective of dressmakers working out of a small shop called “Something Wonderful” in Broad Ripple, Indiana (her home state) designed the gowns of all the Pence ladies. A beautiful message.


White
Ivanka Trump with her golden hair was elegant in cream; Tiffany was less fortunate, looking more washed out than bold in a shade of bright white. But most striking was that, although seemingly dressed as a unit, the sisters failed to coordinate: the eyes of world on them, they stood in chromatic discord rather than harmony, several shades away from striking a pleasing counterpoint to each other. Their body language mirrored dissonance. Like the shade of their stepmother's superb dress, it was a cold elegance.

A third beautiful head of blonde hair was Jackie Evancho's, The singer of the national anthem, she was another prominent young woman at the inauguration whose entrance was followed, and her outfit- also a double breasted coat in dead white, made an unwitting theme of whiteness itself. Only the most paranoid leftist could think this was a statement- even on a subconscious level. But against the background of the race related turmoil that characterized the divisive pre-election climate, the three prominent blondes in all white struck an odd note.
(Mrs. Clinton- also a blond- looked better than she ever did during the campaign. She was simply splendid in cream as well.)



Red
This is a powerful, even dangerous color- when it's right, it's all warmth and courage, and when its wrong, it's clownish. It's also the symbolic color of the Republican party, so you'd think they would get it right. And on the third try, they did.
President Trump's tie was that clownish shade of red- more brash than bold, a color we also saw on the collar of Kellyanne Conway's bizarre red, white and blue military coat- more of a costume, really- sort of like the nutcracker. In stylish contrast was five year old Arabella Kushner, looking fabulous in a deep red coat with a big bow at the neck, like a little Audrey Hepburn.  Mrs. Obama was beautiful in her textured coat with broad lapels in a rich garnet. But then she hasn't hit a false shade since charming us in that yellow dress and coat she wore to her husband's 2009 inauguration. (And that casual chignon just barely coming undone was just that approachable elegance that is the best of American style).



On the opposite end of the style spectrum, what about that switching up to shimmering gold curtains in the Oval Office? The nation that produced Elvis and Liberace will probably recover.





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Friday, September 2, 2016

Style and Substance- Vintage Fashion at Yesterday's Bread, Exarchia (Athens)



Exarchia- haven of ruthlessly independent creative activity- makes me homesick, for a time as much as a place. There is no Starbucks, no Accessorize, no multi-national faux culture or ersatz style. In short, welcome to 1980's Manhattan.

Although I adore watching Sex and the City, it has ruined my beloved city's reputation. I love the fun and the fantasy and Patricia Field's marvelous vision, but there's a vibe of trying way too hard that is very not Manhattan, and particularly not downtown (the word "downtown" automatically embodying the ethos from Taxi Driver to Paul's Boutique). Of course we put in effort, but it was organic, indigenous, creative, and above all, pretty cheap. The very few new things in our wardrobes came from the designers themselves (Betsey Johnson still had stalls at street fairs, and I could afford to shop there with money I earned babysitting), or from Capezio (leotards and butter soft ballet slippers- meant for hardwood. After a week on grimy sidewalks we were essentially barefoot), but most of our clothes were from flea markets and vintage shops- bed jackets (worn over a leotard, with old jeans and ballet slippers), fedoras, ball gowns (also to school), pegged black jeans from Trash and Vaudville and t-shirts we cut the necks out of (my favorite was from The Specials)- these were our school clothes. From Patricia Field's shop on 8th street, we bought boxes of face powder from Japan. It smelled like cherry blossoms.

So, back to Exarchia-

Charlene my older girl and I were on a trip to Athens a few years ago, and she was at this perfect age where she was starting to understand what she wanted to project, but she had trouble finding the raw materials. She got a Hell Bunny dress covered in playing cards in London on the way to San Francisco, some frilly knickers thing at Dark Garden (custom corset shop) in Hayes Valley (SF), and a Series of Unfortunate Events - mood dress in Edinburgh when she went for the Fringe with her dad, but the rest was pretty much McBershka. You don't really want to find a piece of yourself in a multi-national mega shop.

So anyway there we are on Benaki- in this sweet neighborhood that, like '80's Manhattan, doesn't need to try too hard- and she sees this poster in the window of the furniture repair shop- a Betty-Pagesque girl with a '50's dress and '40's shoes was standing in a distinctly Exarchia doorway. She does a little squeal- real girl, real clothes, real style. There was a name- Yesterday's Bread- and an address- Kalidromiou, close to where we were staying, a block or two from the square. 

That's where we met Strato and Daphne, who, although we have seen them less than a dozen times, are very much a part of our world. Each of my girls found a piece of themselves in this shop, like they could finally realize a vision that had only been abstract up to then. The store is made for this- just enough organization to find what you need- rows of men's jackets, rows of dresses, etc., and just enough chaos to make it feel like a you broke into the wardrobe room of a theater- steamer trunks of scarves, of corsets.   We stayed a couple of hours our first visit- she tried on lots of things, refining and self - defining as she did. After a while, Daphne could see where she was going and helped her get there. Charlene got lots of stuff, a vintage one-piece, shirts, dresses. 


I got a dress too- full skirted, shawl collared, self-belt, that I wear all summer, and a leopard cape I wear all winter.


Another time Charlene came back with a burlesque/circus dress, ruffles, trailing at the back, short in the front, very Panic at the Disco. It's not conventionally practical, but on the other hand, when you need it, you really need it- nothing else is going to satisfy that mood. We like a sense of occasion in our household.

Mei Mei went a few years later, at that exact same time in her life when she was deciding how she wants to look. She got a kelly green polka-dot skirt, some vintage pin-stripe converses, and a beaded satin evening bag, shaped like an owl. She wore them all to tea at the Grande Bretagne:

Mei Mei in Exarchia on her way to tea
Getting ready for school
On our next trip, my mother bought her a floor length strapless black lace ballgown, and a mauve velvet hat. She wore the dress to her beach party for her 18th birthday, and many times before and since. My mother also bought a bold babushka scarf for herself, like the kind from the Ukranian stores on the Lower East Side.

So why all the stories? Because clothes matter. You can have an all night beach party for your 18th birthday in a dress from the H & M, but something will be missing- clothes are a part of your history, as essential for defining who you really are as a costume is for a character on stage. How does vintage help in the the quest for figuring out who you are? For one thing, wearing clothes that already have a history of their own can give you a head start. Fashions recall eras, and all the things that belong to them- philosophy, design, politics, and, not least, music. Also, things are a lot more special when there is just the one, not hundreds, in the city.

Check Yesterday's Bread's facebook for their store hours. From the square of Exarchia, go on the mostly pedestrian street Tsamadou until you get to Kalidromiou (3-5 minutes)- make a sharp right and it's just a few steps up. (If you're visiting the Archaeological museum, it's right near by).

I didn't mention the prices-  they are very, very good, but that's not why you would come.

You could think of them as rescuers of fashion. They're also rescuers of dogs- met Beer, the wobbly legged baby pointer Daphne found:


Beer sent Fiona a bandanna:
















Yesterday's Bread
Kalidromiou 87-89
210 881 1233

More pleasures of an authentic life in Athens-




Not so Ancient Athens- a mysterious antiques bazaar near the fish market











Community and Culinary tradition (Food, and a little Love- at Mana's Kouzina Kouzina)
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