Thursday, December 4, 2008

Isn't it ironic?

Isn't everything?

I think so. For example, I had this idea that I would write about Christmas sweaters. I brought my camera to the mall when I was home in NC over Thanksgiving, thinking I'd get some photos of holiday knit-clad families and maybe even a few Santa hats. After all, it was just after Thanksgiving and that's usually the time you start seeing that seasonal wardrobe staple of country grandmothers and school teachers, and those people who are just very cheerful. I used to like them when I was a kid (I liked EVERYTHING about Christmas when I was a kid, I had absolutely no discrimination at all) and then I sniggered about them when I got older. But now, I find there's such a goofy obviousness about the message the wearer is sending (i.e. Yay, it's Christmas!) I consider them part of the whole holiday spirit package.

But even though the mall was pretty full, I only saw one (and actually, that was a vest - not even any sleeves!) and no Santa hats at all. I missed them, especially since all the holiday news was pretty horrible (fatal stampede at Wal-Mart, shooting at Toys R Us, not to mention the attacks in India and upheaval in Thailand). I wanted to see something silly, happy, and sweet.

So I was trying to think about how I'd write something that was still light-hearted but sort of wistful about Christmas sweaters, which isn't the angle I originally thought I'd take at all.

And then another twist to my plans... Since I couldn't find any sweaters to photograph myself, I looked for pictures online. Oh, and I found them. Lots and lots! And almost all of them were on blogs about Ugly Christmas Sweater Parties. I have never had nor been invited to an UCSP, but apparently it's a whole big thing, at least among people who take photos and write about them. How ironic!

That started me thinking about irony and clothing. Another example: I slipped while taking sailing lessons and landed on my chin, leaving me in some pain and with a strong resemblance to Jay Leno, only my big chin was lopsided and purple. I realized for the sake of my safety and looks that I needed to get some appropriate shoes. Before I found my cool orange Volvo Ocean Race Pumas, I considered getting Topsiders - but I would wear them ironically, since they're totally not my style. I'd like to say I'm kidding, but I'm not. I was seriously thinking about how to show my irony without maintaining an annoying smirk on my face. I couldn't - thank God for Puma! That reminds me of a piece of advice from a relative: you can drive the wrong way down a one way street if you put your lights on. You're still going the wrong way and it's still illegal, but at least people know that YOU KNOW you're going the wrong way. (I've chosen not to follow that advice, btw.)

I digress. But I do think that irony might be a useful money-saving tool. If you just put any ugly old thing on, but with a sheen (or slather) of irony, you can always feel that you look cool. The risk of course, is that you don't.

Monday, December 1, 2008

(Leder)hosed

I went to Oktoberfest this year and wore a Dirndl. Aside from drinking a lot of beer, eating sausage, and singing the Flieger song, nothing gets you into the spirit of things quite like it. Except maybe for wearing Lederhosen, which I didn't do, but which struck my friend Janice as a fashion inspiration that I should write about.

So I started to think a bit more about Lederhosen for women. The traditional outfit for women, the Dirndl, embodies a girl-woman sweetness with its cleavage-y little white blouse, flowery full skirt, and apron. Lederhosen have more of a tough sweetness. I'm sure my German male friends would get mad at my calling Lederhosen sweet. I know they're cut out of manly, thick, durable leather and I'm sure they're great for mountain climbing and log hauling and even have that expansion tie in back in case you drink too much beer, but they're also embroidered and the little straps are (admit it) aw shucks kind of cute. Nothing wrong with being tough and cute - nothing at all! And when women wear them, there's an androgynous edge that recalls Marlene Dietrich in a tux, or Sally Bowles (Cabaret) in a .. um.. hat.

I like this idea of a little sweetness in clothes - on its own or (as I prefer) mixed with a little toughness. Sweetness makes people smile. Actually, I think I may have subconsciously absorbed the influence without really thinking about it. I've worn a few things that my friends have said were sort of Dirndl-like and the other night, I realized that both my friend Anne and I were both wearing outfits that were versions of Lederhosen, interpreted in our own ways. Mine was literally "leather pants" (actually shorts) which I wore with boots; hers was sweeter, I think, and had the shorts/overalls idea. For now, I've only got the photo of me in my version (it's Anne's camera, so I'm hoping she'll send the photo of her as well!) I'll add it to this post as soon as she does.

Anyhow, for the sake of full disclosure, I was given a reason for why Lederhosen weren't for women. Actually two. The first, according to one of my German male friends, is that Lederhosen make women's butts look big. (Depends on the cut, I'd say, but that is a risk when leather stretches out). The second is that they're sexy on men and women shouldn't take that away from them. Well, again I'd say that depends. If the guy wearing them is sexy, then sure. But a girl in Lederhosen won't make a hot guy any less so. And if a guy wants to give the Dirndl a whirl - go to it! ..and send me a photo, please! ;)