Today was the first day in much too long that I had leisure time. Well, leisure time all to myself. I laid in bed reading Harper's Bazaar this morning. . . well, until this afternoon, in an attempt to overcome a lingering cold. Then I pulled myself up from the grips of high fashion and hegemonic feminine discourse and decided to trek to Peet's coffee for some internet usage. What would you wear on such an expedition? This is what I chose:
For more info- http://lookbook.nu/look/538153-Checking-My-Emails
I love this jacket. I wore it a while back, at night on Christmas Eve actually, as I stumbled around Paris and The Champs Elysees in a rainstorm after a good deal of red wine, cheese, and chocolate. And it there wasn't a bit of wear on it, nor a bead or sequin gone. Not bad considering I found it in an off-the-beaten track Goodwill in San Luis Obispo, California for $25. Take that, Topshop.
Honestly, though, at the last second I switched it for my red wool Norwegian sweater-jacket. Bad choice? The jury is still out. At Peet's. With me, as I type.
Right in line with my, and the current vogue's, lust for all things gold or shiny, however, I was blown away (willingly to be sure) by Christophe Decarnin's most recent addition to the world's closets. As if his Spring 2010 collection did not set the highest bar of the season's desires, he has gone and done it again.
One might think, given the less-than-golden state of the economy, that overtly filling up on glamour, glitz, gold, and sartorial hedonism until it floods over the fashion rim in waves of lame (lamay, people, come on), brocade, and giant fur would not be a popular or wise choice. His last collection seemed to stop that assumption in its little camel coloured minimalist tracks, however, and he seems to have run with it for Fall.
What if Marie Antoinette kidnapped Jimi Hendrix, threw him into some of her husband's clothes, and snuck off with him to live a life of piracy on a boat with 1930's M.G.M. designer Adrian? This collection is a snapshot of that story, the style incarnation of the love-child which would inevitably stem from the bizarre orgy I just described. I love it. Frock coats, luxurious fabrics, fur, and rock & roll all reside at the top of my list of favourite things ever, and Decarnin, that cheeky genius, has put them all together.
I wish everyone could pull off brocade pants. No, actually, I lie. I wish I could.
Gorgeous fabric, lines 'in line' (ha) with previous seasons, especially the shoulders . . . and it gets even better, if you would please give your attention to the bottom hem. Brilliant.
It is a good thing I do not own this, because I might never get out of it. Admire the fabric, the lines, the slit AND draping 'up to there', and the low cut, very low cut, front. I adore a 'revealing' decolletage, probably for the ironic reason that it has such little effect on me. The gown reminds of some of Adrian's designs for Hepburn, Crawford, and even Garbo. I apologize for all the Adrian, but I just wrote a paper on him. Look him up if you don't know his ground-breaking work. Anyway, I feel like doing dishes and vacuuming in this dress might be a little outrageous. So yes, wait, I would do that. Everyone should do that. They would look amazing. Desperate housewives no longer, that entryway runner is your red carpet.
Possibly my favourite, I tried to pull this look off in high school. Given my limited closet, poor hair style, and the fact that I actually had a pair of legs, it did not look so damn sexy. This, however, in inspiration to keep trying. Buccaneer or rock goddess? Give me both, and what the hell, throw some gold lame in with those skinny jeans.
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