The way she wore

I like the Obamas as much as the next (non-extremist-right-wing) person.  Barack seems like a decent guy on an amazing run on his own, without any underhanded jokes concerning his performance in comparison to Bush.  Michelle I like too.  She’s statuesque, Amazonian, incredibly photogenic and is just as accomplished as her husband. Now I realise that it’s Barack who’s the president, but I would have hoped that our definition and understanding of a First Lady would have evolved with the times.  

Now, I love clothes and fashion and I’m of the ilk that understands that clothing is a means of expression.  I wouldn’t go so high-falutin’ saying it’s art (hasn’t Any Warhol taught us anything?) but the constant obsession on Michella Obama’s clothing is odd. Disturbing.  Frustrating.  I’m not saying it’s completely wrong and unfounded.  The way costume is utilised in art is truly riveting (says the Art History major…).  Art works depict members of court as literally being moulded into their status and rank – the fact that the French liked a bit more cleavage in their dress than the more prudish Spanish with their massive stiff hooped skirts belies more than just colour and fabric preferences. The role of art history and theory in analysing dress is that they also consider the context and background.  With Michelle Obama, it seems like there’s such an intense focus on what she’s wearing that all her other accomplishes are disregarded.

It is fascinating to an extent to see that she’ll pull out that Junya Watanabe on her European tour, but sticks to Michael Kors stateside, just as how Jackie Kennedy diligently wore American clothes in favour of her beloved Parisian designers, all in the name of patriotism (and good press).

How to be photographed by the Sartorialist.

Personally, I’m more of a Garance Dore girl myself.

Minor internet celebrity, Style.com favourite, top of the Street Style hierarchy and every socialite

 

Here’s a quick how to:

1. Don’t wear black.

2. Following from 1. Don’t be tempted to pull out that little Seduce dress that you bought for your year 12 formal after party, no matter how like, omg so totally hot you think it is, even though that sleazy doorman at Dragonfly hit on you in it in like, 2003.  Not cool.

Clothes maketh the (wo)man

So is it just me or can women just not win on the campaign trail? I mean. Seriously. On the one hand we have the Clinton-Is-Dowdy Club, who revel in eyebrow-raising comments on the former First Lady’s tentative steps towards the plunging neckline (I think she’s a chick after all). Then we have the latest furore over the $150,000 that the Republican Party shelled out on Palin’s wardrobe (She’s a very freaky girl).

Let me preface the impending rant by conceding that anyone spending that amount of money on clothes over such a short period of time is a bit crazy. Factor in the (almost satisfying) pictures of investment bankers considering hanging themselves with their neckties and (absolutely horrible) photos of Main Street-ers losing their houses in the face of the sup-prime crisis, and we have a particularly disturbing illustration of political hypocrisy.

Talking about my generation: overachievers and etc

According to Wikipedia, I’m a Millenial. Or a Generation Y (which makes me think, so after Generations X, Y, then Z, what comes next?) I thought I could put a lot of effort into this and source proper journals and texts then I thought, alright, seriously, that’s just way too much work. Wikipedia tells me also that putting so much effort is out of character being a Generation Y-er. That I’m attention deficit, true, perhaps, because I have over five internet browser windows open and whilst listening to music, chatting on MSN instant messenger, Facestalking and browsing eBay. eBay: the bastion of consumerism and modern capitalism.  Wikipedia assures me that being Generation Y, I like technology and stuff in general so why not really run with it?  

She's the pretty one, the smart one, the nice one, the Chanel-Teen Vogue intern, the one wearing Marni...

Then you’ve got those kids who ruin all this self-absorbed fun for us.  Emily Weiss and some girl called  Winter Raymond (seriously, is that even a real name?)

Emily Weiss (bless her) will probably be only known to Teen Vogue addicts and The Hills watchers (they can be considered one and the same). Ignoring the fact that I’m just bamboozled by the way reality shows propel nobodies to stardom, she did utter the best line of the season “I’m taking 18 credits, two days a week… then I work two days a week at Teen Vogue… and I also intern at Chanel!” leaving pretty much any self-respecting university student feeling pretty depleted as well as in awe of her multi-tasking abilities. (I would like to note that I proudly no longer watch the Hills, and have replaced it with Gossip Girl. hiushoe watches West Wing for the politics and like, serious stuff, I watch Gossip Girl for 3.1 Phillip Lim dresses).

The Genius of Gossip Girl

Blast from the past.

In my early high school years I wanted to be Joey Potter, who’s now known as Mrs Tom Cruise, a.k.a. mother of the cutest celebrity baby ever, other than that, you know, Scientology problem. Anyway.

Dawson’s Creek paved the way for mid-20 year old actors and actresses passing themselves off as ten years younger, who seduced teachers with no legal repercussions and did things like climb into their best friend’s bedroom window at night. Then came The O.C. and Marissa Cooper, with all her Californian tan bottle goodness in a cute Marc Jacobs dress and monotonous voice. She probably single-handedly revived Chanel bag sales in the under 25 demographic and made every girl want a geek Jewish boyfriend (Seth) to deck out in Lacoste polos, or at least a cute-but-not-as-cute sidekick (Summer) who will look like, you know, super-cute with her Valley Girl accent and all.

And now we have Gossip Girl.

A break-up letter to Agyness Deyn: Style Maven or Style Satan?

Dear Laura Holl she who dresses like a spinster catwo Agyness De Agy,

I don’t know how to say this. I like you, I really do. Seriously, you’re a really cool and happening kind of chick. I like the way you embrace retro and modernise the 80s. No, really, I do. I see what you’re doing there. White dress, denim jacket and purple tights, fabulous – really, it’s great. You’re having fun, I understand that. Designers probably throw clothes at you because you’re pretty ‘right now’. You’re the model of the moment. (Your Young London Burberry advertisements with Lily Donaldson – you made my heart melt. And your runway work, totally fierce.) I get that, really, I do. I know it can be difficult, sometimes, trying to appease all those designers by wearing the clothes they give you. It’s a tough job, I can imagine, posing during the day and vacantly staring at a camera, being waited on hand and foot, then coming home to boxes full of free clothes that plebs, such as myself, wouldn’t know what to do with. But you, you really make it work. I don’t know how.