Oh oh oh. Over here. I have something to say. I like this bag. A lot.
D&G purse from vogue.com
You know what the hardest part about having a weird face is? Getting a hair cut. I need someone to start a Pinterest board of hair cut ideas for girls with weird faces. Weak-chinned, long-nosed, coarse-skinned, thin-lipped, wall-eyed wonders need good hair too! When I look for a new haircut, all the pictures are of the same face but with different hairstyles placed on top. Fine-boned, small-nosed, big-eyed, full-lipped girls that look good no matter what is on top of their head.
We are in the dawn of a new era when decorating blogs and magazines are starting to show photos of real/weird homes, warts and all. Why not a hairstyle blog for the strange-faced?
photo from here
To be good at something, like, really good at something, requires a certain level of repetition that can get obsessive, tedious, and boring. If you are really interested in doing something well, you can get past, or even enjoy, the monotony of that repetition. Refining the smallest gesture, making minute adjustments, researching, watching and repeating.
I admire certain teenage boys for this trait (I know there are girls out there too!). Watching the boys behind my house on my brother’s skateboard ramp, all day and well into the night going again and again and again, trying to nail the trick.
Sometimes fashion designers feel (especially economically) they have to re-invent the wheel every season: create something new from scratch, dazzle, sell, then move onto the next season. Some designers are good at this. Most aren’t. It’s not a sustainable way to work, to develop a strong identity or to hone craftsmanship. Sometimes I think the best way to come up with new ideas is to master old ones.
So, as always, I go back to Alaia. His exploration of and refinement of a few key ideas season after season, the pushing of his own boundaries through repetition, not through reinvention, is compelling to me of late.
This kind of mastery (if I can call it that) requires a monk-like devotion. It leaves no time for shitty collaborations, store opening parties, and perfume launches.
Just watched The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie last night and I quite loved the variations of school uniform Sandy wears throughout the film. Plus her lover’s oversized sweater. This is what my teen-aged self dreamed of looking like.
Why can’t I draw? Why god? Why? Yesterday I saw an elderly lady getting off the bus and she was wearing…a wool cape with baseball jacket sleeves? I will do my best to describe it and if anyone out there in the universe can make a reasonable hand-drawn facsimile of this garment it would be much appreciated.
Okay, so the body of the coat was a pink and grey ghost-plaid blanket-weight wool. It had no collar or buttons. And it had pink satin 3/4 length ribbed-cuff raglan sleeves. It seriously looked like she cut the sleeves off her Pink-Ladies jacket and sewed them onto her cape.
Why does the universe tease me with these amazing garments? As the bus pulled away from the curb I pressed my face against the glass trying to burn that jacket into my memory.