Sunday, September 9, 2007

Because Sometimes Fashion is Waaaaaay too Much Like Math

As some of you may know, we are thick in the middle of one of Moi's favorite times of year: Fashion Week in NYC. This delightful event happens twice a year and is the time when designers the world over are invited to the Big Apple to showcase their spring and fall collections. You know, the clothing that 99.9875 percent of the world's people either:

A. Can't afford


B. Wouldn't be caught dead in if you promised them lots of sex and candy with Justin Timberlake.

Still, as fashion hep cats the globe over keep telling us: "Eets not about reality, dahlink; eets about fantasy."

Uh, yeah. I fantasize I look like this ALL THE TIME:

And before y'all go all, "Well, fashion is ruled by gay men having a big ol' guffaw at our – literal – expense." know this. This outfit was designed by none other than Vera Wang. Vera Wang, Party People. She of the lovely, ethereal, floaty wedding dresses that everyone from God on down wants to wear in their nuptials. So I simply do not know what prompted her to so brutally relieve her Park Avenue penthouse apartment of its drapery and fashion them into dresses that not even maiden aunts would wear if you promised them sex and candy with Sean Connery.

This is what a shiny dress should look like, Party People:

Like you're Wonder Woman and just finished kicking some serious al-qaeda ass and now you're off to cocktail hour at the Four Seasons with Bruce Willis.


Where was I?

Oh, yes. The math thing.

Okay, so I'm not actually in NYC attending this faboo event. Pity, yes, but so it goes. Thankfully, however, I do have Fashion Television in HD, which covers the event pretty much 24/7. And I get additional reportage from the Fug Girls, my bestest cyberspace girlfriends and kindred spirits when it comes to the high waisted pants trend.

So the Fug Girls get to negotiate the tents scouting out Demi Moore and Sean-Whatever-He-Calls-Himself-Now-Combs (because if there's anything that Fashion Week is really all about, it's about celebrity sightings –
you know the .785 percent of folk who actually can afford this stuff), and I get to watch it from the comfort of my sofa munching on Cheetos, sipping Fresca, and wearing frayed yoga pants and a pilling fleece pullover.

And wonder at yet another irony of it all (here's where the math comes in): Here I am, sitting in a room which is rapidly cooling because of the onslaught of fall, but I'm looking at fashions that won't hit the stores until spring. That's a full six months from now!

I'm only just now considering sweaters and boots and scarves. How am I supposed to also juggle the possibilities of next year's flirty skirts and safari-style day dresses? Much less calculate just how much it's all going to cost me once I get there? No wonder these fashion-celebrity-type people are so addled. Not only do their jet setting ways mess with their circadian rhythms, they don't even know what season it is.

Freakin' celebrities.

Well, except for this one:


Wicked Thistle said...

It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me--and has seen me--that fashion is like another language to me. Not a bad one, mind you, but rather a beautiful one that is lilting and lovely to just sit and listen to while sipping on a glass of cab sav. It's so pleasant that I don't even mind if it's talking about me. And my hillbilly wardrobe.

Except for that blue shiny dress. *That* one best just sit down and shut up.

Orangeblossoms said...

love me some fashion, too Moi. If I had (read could afford) real cable I'd be glued to fashion week. Because I'm kinda a freak that way.

Jenny said...

Vera Wang is a women? Kidding, I like her, but I still think this is STILL a big joke on the women who buy these clothes (do they?) and those that attend the shows. God Bless Target for hiring the cast offs from "old" designers.

the Dread Pirate Rackham said...

OK, you just made me laugh. a lot.

It's all wrong, and I feel like an old lady every day of the week when I go back to my Prana pants and thrust my favourite finger at the shiny dresses.

Is the shiny dress wicking? I think not. Ergo, I have no use for it running up trail.

(that's my excuse, I'm sticking to it)

moi said...

Wicked: That dress needs to shut up, for sure. In a garbage bag.

Orange: Hey, a kindred fashion voyeur spirit! Well, the only reason I even have HD and therefore Fashion TV is thanks to the spousal unit: Three simple words: College Football Season. The Lord does, indeed, move in mysterious ways.

Anonymous: Half my wardrobe comes from Target Boutique. The other half from eBay. Rule #1: never pay retail. Especially for butt ugly.

Pirate: Hey, I think you could actually run in that shiny gold dress. It's got a kind of Brooks running skort vibe about it. And I'm willing to bet that lame has mucho under-utilized wicking properties.

Meghan said...

Clive Owen is mine, bitch.

Jenny said...

I thought it was "In Target Club, we never talk about Target Club."

LOVE the Ebay. said...

Oh, yes. Clive. Definitely a nice Fall accessory.

I hate how gaunt and yucky the models usually look. Can't they find any girls that look like they bothered to eat at some point in 2007?