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Wednesday 31 August 2011

THE MAGIC NUMBER SEVEN


I read a recent interview with an actress in which a portion of it made me laugh out loud. Mind you, this happens frequently when I read celebrity interviews, and it’s not because the actresses or actors are intentionally funny.

In short, this actress was talking about her stylist, as you do (my stylist is about 11 kg and he claims that half eaten food wiped down your trousers is totally en vogue right now), and she was explaining how one discerns that an item has gone ‘vintage.’ Yes, apparently there is a mathematical equation for this earth shattering process. I’ll go slow cause it can get pretty mind bending. So according to this stylist an item moves from being passé or so last season to the world of vintage in seven years. Yep, that’s it, seven whole years. I’m wondering if she consulted a MIT think tank to come up with this number or if it just fell out of the fashion ether? What's more alarming is that according to this theory, those wickedly hot acid wash jeans from the 80s your husband always tries to pull out of the back of the closet and throw on, means that he has a justification to wear them, 'babe, they're vintage.' 

I’m not sure what exactly happens in these seven years to move an item of clothing from the junk box to the trendy thrift store where Kate Moss may get her hands on it. Perhaps hemlines have gone up and down just enough times to make the earth sit differently on its axis; or maybe it follows some sort of boot cut, skinny jean, flare-leg rotation? Fashion is just so complex it’s hard to figure out (that’s sarcasm people). In truly simple terms - and yes, Anna Wintour would have my head for this - as far as I can ascertain, there is a must-have color a season (sometimes they even combine two together to really mix it up – 'oh my god, purple and gray, you MUST wear purple and gray!'), it’s either fashionable to show your knee or not (or these days the top of your thighs!), and out of nowhere, some strange fabric will make a comeback and suddenly be everywhere, even on items it has no place being. ‘Oh my god, have you seen my boots made out of lasagna noodles? They are so hot!!” And then of course all this hotness the media and fashionistas roll out to the world becomes passé by next Monday. But don’t despair, in seven years, lasagna noodle boots will be totally hot again.

I suppose the other real question is how did ‘vintage’ end up to be the pinnacle of coolness? In fact, this might be the only area of things where 'old' is considered 'en vogue' and not ready to be put out to pasture; and hence why I have plenty of time for this area of things. [The rest of the world is ageist, thank god for the rebellious fashion world]. I used to troll thrift stores for hours for those once in a lifetime finds; you know the items that are somewhere between something your grandma would wear, a motel curtain and something that everyone will ask you where you bought. I'm not saying it will always be something people will love, but they will certainly know you did not find it at the Gap (and no honey, I will not give away that green knit dress I found in Scotland). So I suppose what I'm saying is that these 'vintage' items have earned their title; they've sat for twenty-five years in a dusty store collecting reverence, not some pithy seven year stretch that allows any old item into the vintage fold. Please people, let's set the bar a little higher especially if you fashion pundits out there want your industry to be taken seriously. So hear me now tunic tops and jeggings (this is apparently the marriage of the legging and the jean), if you want to be considered vintage, you've got to earn that title, sweat a little! Otherwise, you're just retro.




Sunday 28 August 2011

GAL PAL


They say that man’s best friend is a dog. I’m not sure what this says about men? I suppose, they like hairy things that put up with everything they dish out, can’t talk back to them and go and fetch things. As for women, there is nothing we need more than girlfriends…and more specifically, a best friend. Perhaps for some women it is also a dog, but let’s be honest, we really don’t really need yet another thing to look after that stares at us blankly when it makes a mess.

With every year that passes, I have come to realize how truly valuable girlfriends are; in fact, I believe that they are fundamentally essential to a woman’s life. There are the obvious reasons that a best friend brings: the companionship (the coffee run, retail therapy, opening night of Twilight – cause really, who the hell else is going to see that with you?); the advice the role of sounding board ["oh my god I’m going to kill him if he pees on the seat one more time!"]; not to mention the honesty that most girlfriends impart to their best friends: “You look like Jessica Simpson in those jeans, get rid of them,” - for some reason we can take this sort of bluntness from our girlfriends with very little defense. [Sorry men, you still can’t say we look fat in something, but our best friend probably can. It’s an unfair world that makes little sense).

Then there is the safe, unconditional space that two girlfriends can sink into that is not rife with what intimate relationships often carry with them. Let’s be blunt here, the fact that one is not sharing a room with their best friend, or sleeping with them makes things a lot less complicated. In fact, a good girlfriend in my opinion is all the best parts of an intimate relationship with none of the drama (there are those women out there who have HIGH drama relationships with other women – I say to this to that group, dating a man is hard enough why o why are you complicating your life?)

And of course the most painfully obvious reason to have and embrace your girlfriends is that women speak the same language. (Seriously, rejoice in this fact). Women don’t really need to speak at all, when we’re around each other we just get it. You see, anticipation and instinct are inherent to our gender, so life alongside a girlfriend is just plain easier (no offense sweetheart). If you’re out with your girlfriend and you are with each others respective children, trust me, you won’t have to ask your best friend to wipe your kid’s nose, she’ll just do it cause it needs to be done. Your best friend has also most likely walked your path - or a comparative one. She knows that you're tired (or more importantly, WHY you are tired, irrational, and emotionally and physically spent and she’s not going to judge you for it. In fact, she’s probably got some insightful tip that will get you off the proverbial ledge and to the end of the week with your sanity in tact.

Having a girlfriend also comes down to just plain fun – you’re not talking about bills, or raising the kids, or fighting over who stole the covers the night before. When you are with your girlfriends you are usually engaging in some fun mindless activity rife with gossip, Cosmopolitans, an overpriced blouse that you both just had to have, and an impromptu trip to Mexico - okay, that doesn't happen much anymore, but a girl can dream. Perhaps the unfair irony of life is that your girlfriends get the best part of you, that part that can just let go and not worry about cleaning the kitchen for the thousandth time, or how many times your partner hasn’t - although they will probably have to hear about this at length, as any good girlfriend will. 




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