…and a typical Raf Simons one

For an industry that needs something new at alarmingly quick intervals, the fashion world has been talking about the Dior situation for quite a while. The saga has taken so many twists and turns at this point that you don’t know what or whom to believe. Initially, it seemed all but confirmed that Riccardo Tisci would be Galliano’s successor, but after a few months with no announcements we started to hear a seemingly boundless list of names. We’ve heard some odd rumors (Alexander Wang comes to mind) and some seemingly improbable but apparently accurate ones (Marc Jacobs), and now we have the latest: though in this environment where several designers have already been supposedly done-deals one must exercise caution, the latest news is that Raf Simons will be taking the helm.

Perhaps what’s been most surprising is the parade of big names. Riccardo Tisci, Marc Jacobs, and Raf Simons are all superstars in the fashion world. They’re all tried and tested and constantly verging on overexposure. Though judging from the rumors it does appear that LVMH has considered greener designers, it’s interesting that they’ve really only pursued big names. It seems like the old model was to hire up-and-coming designers at the big houses, allowing them to gain credibility but sacrifice their right to have their name on the product.  There was something symbiotic in this relationship; young designers could essentially be funded for their talent without fully having to take on the responsibility of running the label.

I wonder, then, what it says about the fashion business that the big corporations aren’t willing to take a chance on lesser-known names. Perhaps it has something to do with economic decline, but it also seems like a fairly leechlike move, an attempt to gain some visibility from the designer rather than the other way around. But it’s worrisome that, when it’s harder than ever for young designers to stay afloat, there’s no system they can rely on.

The job of a designer is full of contradictions. You can be revered for your creativity but lose your job for failing to generate revenue. You can work tirelessly for years only to find that the industry has lost interest in you. The business is built on ephemeral concepts–trends, seasons, and the like–and at times it’s enough to make you wonder if it’s all been a dream. People in fashion are indeed passionate, but at times the old stereotype that they’re not compassionate seems fairly true.

Whoever gets the job at Dior, it’s a safe bet that it will be a big deal. It might even be safe to say that it will heavily influence the direction fashion goes in in this new decade. Galliano’s decadence and drama more or less defined the high-glamour aesthetic of the aughts. Raf Simons’ Dior would probably look quite a bit different. Where do we go? More, or less? When neither minimalism nor maximalism seems entirely exciting, perhaps the only thing we have to look forward to is something new. But sometimes it’s a set of fresh eyes–a recent fashion school graduate, for instance–that’s needed to spice things up a bit.

]]> http://sostylety.wordpress.com/2011/12/16/dior-something-old-something-new/feed/ 0 joey00 http://sostylety.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/scott-schuman-and-the-masculine-minority/ http://sostylety.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/scott-schuman-and-the-masculine-minority/#comments Wed, 28 Sep 2011 22:51:23 +0000 Joey http://sostylety.wordpress.com/?p=34 Continue reading →]]>

Manliness personified

Fashion has developed a new set of fans in the more recent past. Fighting against the grain of ethereal, polarizing women and their lithe, feminine male counterparts, a certain set of straight (they’d be quick to tell you) men who idolize the unaffected panache of the menswear styles of the past have banded together in their passion, largely aided by the advent of the internet. Suddenly, it’s become acceptable for Jay-Z and his ilk to cite Margiela and the like as evidence of their lavish lifestyles. Men’s fashion blogs abound, most of which consist of what appear to be spot-the-difference photos to the untrained eye.

Perhaps the founding father of this modern movement is The Sartorialist’s Scott Schuman. He’s credited, perhaps rightly so, with igniting the craze for street style in the democratic digital age of fashion. His massively popular website is meant to showcase both well-dressed men and women. Instead, it tends to focus on older, conservatively-dressed men and conventional, pretty young women. The men are beacons of fetishized nostalgia, meant to “put young men to shame” for their lax dress code. The women dress in cute if insipid leg-bearing looks and, on occasion, the adorable reappropriated menswear look.

But Schuman’s evident love of ladies (as he’d be quick to tell you) doesn’t necessarily come packaged with empathy. On one occasion, he fell into hot water for posting a picture of what many would consider a normal-sized woman, congratulating her for achieving “body harmony” by deftly selecting footwear for her “sturdy” lower half. This belief, that fashion’s central aim is to repackage the body (in particular the female body) in an appealing form, reared its head again when he posted a micro review of a Preen show he attended, in a post entitled “Dressmaking 101.”

The one body area a woman is most worried about is her hips, thighs and butt. Right?

So why would a designer ever make a dress that specifically brings more attention, weight, and bulk to that area?

This is a perfect example of the disconnect between fashion and real people. I mean, if you only have 30-something looks in a show to tell your story for that season why waste any of them on designs that would never sell (especially in this economy) or even push the “art” of fashion in a reasonable direction. That ruffle detailing is great (and, to be fair, Preen did offer other options with that detail), but there must be other ways to use it so that it doesn’t strongly detract from a woman’s body.

Granted, in the age of Project Runway, wherein Michael Kors can be found spouting the same logic week after week, this may not seem like a controversial idea. Feminists, however, such as the teen phenom Tavi Gevinson, would certainly take issue with this line of thinking.

Which brings us to the latest development in Schuman’s “loose cannon” file. Speaking to The Talks, he dismissed the idea that Gevinson could be a major player in the online fashion world based on his perception, unverified as it may be, that she’s “never had a boyfriend.” Sure, with less horribly offensive wording, Schuman may have better made his point, that Gevinson’s style may not be relatable to women in their twenties and beyond. Still, however, this belief in itself, and his insistence that Gevinson’s success is the work of evil masterminds in the print world trying to discredit the “serious adults” who are bloggers as trivial children, speaks volumes to his black and white views on what fashion is supposed to be.

As lots of cable makeover shows will attest, fashion is the result of saying goodbye to the things that make you feel unique, and repackaging yourself in a presentable manner in the name of “sophistication.” Fashion is not a game, they say. When Gevinson first received serious press attention, beyond the novelty “12 year old girls can type?” articles, such as the cover of Pop magazine and an editorial in French Vogue, it was all in the name of her love of playful fashion. Rather than a strikingly mature young girl, it seemed, she was a daringly childlike tween. She still played dress-up, she didn’t wear Hollister et al to blend in with her peers, and she wrote about fashion because she loved it, really loved it in a way that was lacking from the dry prose of the established fashion print journalists.

Women and men of all ages could learn something from this: Stop taking fashion so seriously! Lighten up; wear bright yellow and don’t worry about looking like a school bus. Gevinson’s ascent, therefore, was not only a part of revolution in online media, but a liberation. Schuman, on the other hand, doesn’t say anything new. In fact, he seems to have a peculiar fixation with the old.

In a sense, the new guard of menswear enthusiasts are like the Tea Party of the fashion world. Their reinforcement of gender binaries in fashion comes across like revisionist history, a surprisingly old-fashioned yearning for masculinity that trivializes the enormous contributions of women and gay men to the development of the industry. Never do they showcase men who deviate from the staid model of mainstream menswear; on the contrary, such men are often dismissed as silly. It seems that the modern Renaissance man is not progressive, but instead nostalgic for a romanticized past.

Perhaps the takeaway is that the fashion community is pluralistic. Some may prefer a glossy, retro look. Others may strive toward the enlightenment of minimalism. Others, still, may want to look like the preschooler who shows up to school in a Capri-Sun-stained superhero costume. Being dismissive of any of these seems to counteract the underlooked positive side of fashion: the sense of self-discovery in individualized aesthetics, the expression of otherwise unseen facets of one’s personality, and the aspiration, the desire to be some bigger version of yourself. Fashion can make the bad parts of us seem good, and it can encourage us to find good parts of ourselves we never knew. So stick with your “serious adult” look, Mr. Schuman, but some of us are happier eating paste.

A leaked image from behind the scenes at Tom Ford's Spring 2012 show

As many brands are realizing that the only way to stay afloat anymore is to get their collections out there as quickly and widely as possible, it’s no surprise that someone is taking the exact opposite approach. Indeed, to designers who have come up watching runway presentations evolve from intimate gatherings to free-for-all press events, there must be a certain vulgarity in the idea of millions joining in on the fun from the comfort of their favorite mass-produced chairs. Tom Ford is one such designer, for whom modernity seems to be a four letter word. Here’s a man, after all, who still subscribes to the idea that it’s better to be overdressed than the reverse.

Ford’s return to womenswear had at first a very Alaia-esque nonconformity to it. Yes, there would be a collection, but only his friends would see it. There would be no runway photographers, save for naughty cell phone snappers. And it worked, after all; we all sat and salivated for the details as invitees lavished the collection with unbounded praise. In the end, however, the clothes were rather unspectacular. Compare his return to Phoebe Philo’s, and you’re looking at the antichrist vs. the second coming.

Perhaps we’ve all come to realize this. Whatever the case, things seem to have taken a turn. Cathy Horyn, all too ready to toot his horn last time around, more or less intercepted a blog post dedicated to Ford with her praise of fledgling London designer Thomas Tait, only to return to briefly to him in the final paragraph to describe what she saw without much enthusiasm. Picking up on this, Amy Odell at The Cut noted that “there is that stubborn problem of all the people who aren’t allowed to see the clothes: If you make them feel quite unspecial, will they also find your work quite unspecial?”

It’s no secret that fashion has long survived on the timeless currency of exclusivity. And though that barrier hasn’t been broken, entirely, it’s at least been lowered. Fast fashion and limited run designer collaborations have given those with less disposable income a chance to see what it feels like to wear the things they really want to. Nowadays, the most receptive audience for fashion is young (very young) and aspirational. Perhaps the thinking is that, instead of giving these unpaying customers the cold shoulder, big brands can exploit this interest and hope to see some sales when these budding consumers come into their own resources. The internet may have democratized fashion, but it’s also made it a bit more capitalist.

How many 16-year-olds do you think dream of some day wearing Tom Ford? Perhaps he thinks he’s building interest by delaying gratification, but at some point it seems likely this approach is going to come back to bite him. Fashion operates on fantasy, after all, so what is there to fantasize about? A writer’s most earnest attempt at a written description? He may be good at schmoozing his current customer base, but there isn’t much foresight in shutting the little guy out.

Perhaps even more rewarding than an instantaneous look at a collection via its livestream is the look at the crowd beforehand. Exceptionally well-produced feeds, like the one Proenza Schouler hosted on its website last night, have an almost voyeuristic quality to them before the lights go out and the show starts. Here you see the whole cast of characters–editors, socialites, celebrities, or some combination of the three–ambling around, finding seats, schmoozing, and all the rest. You wonder if they know you’re watching them. At one point last night, Anna Wintour appeared to shoo away the camera emphatically, with her devilish “I’m difficult but I can’t really take myself seriously” grin. Others stare blankly, seemingly alone, introverted. It’s an interesting change of pace when you’re expecting the glossiest, suavest people around.

Fascinatingly, I always find myself less gripped when the models actually come out.  Perhaps I lose interest when I find that it’s impossible to fully process a runway look when it’s whooshing by so fast. Pictures can be much more helpful. You can stare at them as little or as much as you want. When you actually watch a live feed, you realize that the environment at a show is alarmingly rushed. As soon as the show starts, the models practically run to the exit, all the while teetering on runway prototype heels, or occasionally, mercifully, flats. The finale is a tightly packed group of looks, models ready to get the hell out of there and get paid–hopefully not in trade. By the time the designers lift their hands to wave, they’re already headed back to backstage. The crowd’s exodus is as immediate as that at a movie. You begin to wonder: is this a runway show or an 8:45 am subway car?

Of course, this fast-paced lifestyle and obsession with immediacy is nothing new in the industry. In fact, bags from the show were available for pre-order immediately after Jack & Lazaro took their bow. It’s hard to find someone interested in stopping to smell the roses, unless the roses are what’s next on the schedule, or the must-have party invite.

So is it the shows themselves or the technical limitations of livestreaming that makes the important part seem so secondary? Is the fact that so much more time is spent working the crowd than watching the show telling of the majority of attendees’ true intentions? It’s hard to say what one could improve in a feed like Proenza’s, but something about it still doesn’t cut it. Perhaps the only way to effect any change is to prescribe fashion professionals medicinal marijuana. Coco says relax.

For a company that’s had years of designer collaboration experience at this point, Target handled itself very poorly with the release of its Missoni collection. For many, the go-to destination was online, a utopia where no lines or shoving eBay sellers exist. But Target’s servers crashed seemingly within moments of the collection’s debut, and they didn’t fully recover until the next day, save for some surely smug shoppers who managed to get in and get out as others stared in frustration at the infuriatingly humble message that Target.com was “suddenly extremely popular.” In-store shoppers may have felt they made the right decision, but unless they were armed with a credit card and dangerous at 7 or 8 am, most of them found that even the most suburban of stores in the least fashion-conscious of places seemed to be a no Missoni (anymore) zone.

So what is it? Did Target not anticipate this demand? Or was this a strategic move? It’s hard to ignore the blatant out-of-control consumerism in glorified no-holds-barred shopping events like Black Friday, but could it be spilling into this new age of design for mere dollars? It’s all well and good when a new collaboration is announced. Some may even save the date on their calendars and plan to stop by the store or browse online the day it’s released, to ensure nothing’s sold out. Is everyone okay with even this relatively high-pressure approach not being enough?

The fact is, this whole phenomenon seems destined for more and more extremity. Soon it will take fifteen minutes for a collection to sell out, not two hours. My question is: doesn’t this defeat the purpose? When these companies say they’re “bringing design to the masses,” shouldn’t it be at least relatively easy for the masses to have it brought to them? In cases like these, a little review of supply and demand seems necessary.

Today was a day for the A-list in the tents at New York Fashion Week. Rodarte was the surprise draw, perhaps boosted by Natalie Portman’s award season support, attracting Beyonce, Taylor Swift, and Elle Fanning, among others, to its front row. Fashion Week will often settle for pseudo-celebrities. Teen TV stars can start near-riots among the photographers there hoping to get valuable snaps for image agencies. But when a real star shows up, like Ms. Knowles, suddenly everyone comes second. Important editors are pushed back to the second row, creating a veil of iridescent shimmer around the real meat and bones of the industry. Though certain industry insiders have been able to gain considerable prominence thanks to the niche online movement, it seems to go out the window when a casually interested familiar face decides to crash the party. The rare exception to the rule in this scenario is Anna Wintour who, perhaps tellingly, was recently sat next to Nicki Minaj. One can only imagine what Wintour, with her sleek bob and conservative duds, found to talk about with Minaj, in an outlandish pom-pom-encrusted ensemble topped off with an over-the-top blonde bouffant.

It is almost certainly a sign of the times that neither the clothes themselves, the people who create them, nor those who bring attention to them later on are the real stars of the event designed to give them a stage. Then again, perhaps there isn’t much reason to give them attention at this point in time. In a pre-Fashion Week missive, Cathy Horyn wrote in The New York Times that ” the spectacle has become a habit that audiences are ready to quit,” referencing Phoebo Philo and Raf Simons as designers who are adapting to this change by offering quieter, more wearable options. Sure, this trend toward “classic sportswear” as has been bandied about by the fashion media, is probably good for the businesses and average consumers involved. But if wearability is identified as the sole purpose of fashion, as Horyn seems to suggest, it puts the field in an oddly narrow place.

Isn’t fashion art? Are we to believe that this distinction can’t be applied just because it’s something we can put on our bodies? Aren’t fashion designers artists? If not, what are they? Workhorses? Sometimes it can seem like it. As the industry has lost some of its luster, the job of a designer has become much more thankless. Designers are rarely household names anymore. They have to produce more collections in less time, and the demand for more and quicker is only going up. Designers have been having breakdowns, both widely publicized and not, left and right.

It seems the most important question is this: when did fashion become some sort of underground society? Don’t all people, whether they like it or not, participate in its development? Why do we not care, or at least pretend not to care, about the clothes we’re wearing? No offense to Ms. Swift, Ms. Minaj, Ms. Knowles, Ms. Knowles’ unborn fetus, et al, but I think it’s time we let the garments take center stage.