As I mentioned in my last blog, I've been in a pretty strict budget mindset. Even though I still enjoy reading Vogue, I have been feeling quite disconnected from fashion and often wonder what it feels like to work there, how the writers and editors can make themselves feel relevant when stores on Madison Ave and West Broadway are shutting after 4-month long sale seasons, when ads are down and much of their readership has seen a drop in salary - or (for the trophy wife readership) of spending money. It does seem as though every article talks about "budgeting" and "high/low mix", though these articles precede photos of $6000 suits with jaunty belle epoque hats. Adorable, but I mean, really... And anyhow, my latest trip was skiing, so what I really wanted for my head was a helmet.So coming back to Manhattan during fashion week and going to a show right after getting back from a ski trip was a bit of a drastic jump, since I wore pretty much the same thing everyday and hadn't been in a clothing store in months. But interestingly, far from feeling disconnected, I felt like I was starting to get feeling back in some part of my body that had fallen asleep. I've never worked in the fashion industry, so it wasn't any nostalgia for that (though it is always fun to see my friends who work at Fashionhaus). It was more that I've been so focused on work, on saving money and preparing myself for bad times, that I hadn't really done enough enjoying the fun things in life - like beauty and design - just for the love of it. I think that's how the people at Vogue get through times like now. At least, that's what I hope. It's not just about shopping (though of course, is partly about that since it is a business after all) but is also about just loving style, design, expression, beauty, etc.
I was also interested in the kind of fashion at the show. The designer, Matthew Ames, is a young American whose clothes reminded me (not being a fashion writer) of Georges de la Tour, monks cloaks, and Obi Wan Kenobi; sculptural, almost monastic designs in rich fabrics. That expensive minimalism also reminded me of Zoran, who had been around since the '70s but who I only heard of in the '90s, when his clothes were always in Elle. I mention all that because thinking back to the '90s reminded me that the economic slowdown then led to a preference for understated fashion and less of the '80s trash/flash. Ironically, I think the clothes were actually more expensive - but the emphasis was on craftsmanship rather than broadcasting labels. Prada and Marc Jacobs emerged from that environment and I think that we may see a similar shakeout of trash (do we really need celebrity designers, for example?) and the rise of some real new talents.
I hope so, anyhow.
Tough look for tough times...?
