Sometimes it just doesn’t get better than an Hermes scarf and white t-shirt. Ruthie’s wardrobe tells the story of the person she is, one who is dedicated to the details and subtleties of the power of simple and beautiful things, much like her beloved Truman Capote novels. She is as sincere about the sartorial details of Rag and Bone’s take on the drop-crotch trouser as she is about everything she does, including keeping the dress from her sister’s Bat Mitzvah in her closet, just for the memory. I have known her for a decade as one of the best friend’s of my son Louis and she is as clean in her dedication to the people around her as she is in her white button-down.
Mix being born and raised in Brazil (“where everyone loves on you until you can’t”) with the consciousness to face your fears, step out of your ego and into your power, add a splash of abundant drapery and a love for hoods, and you have Sage Sah. Sometimes clothes make the person and sometimes the person makes them, but in the case of Sah, good energy and good taste are one. When I came to shoot him, he had his lovable posse of friends surrounding him and with total humor and charm, his impeccable uniform unfolded (which consisted of the best of black and the kind of clothes that are quest-enders or second skin). Since then, I have been obssessing on the punkish Rick Owens skinny stretchy pants with the classic tassel loafers and the perfect touch of the black Nike socks with the white swoosh. I would hire him in a second in anything he was wearing, including his “business look” of the Catholic school boy blazer with drop crotch pants and retro glasses. But it’s Sah in his shepard hat and robes that most exemplifies the light that he spreads on the streets of New York, while shrouded in both drama and mystery.
I have come to many conclusions about style while on this magical sociological journey uncovering the style influencers of this time. However, probably foremost for me, is that those that dress for themselves resonate a certain confidence and taste that can only be found in not giving your power away to anyone when it comes to dressing yourself (P.S. the death of style is when women “dress for men,” period.) When Natalie speaks about being smart instead of the prototypical “sexy,” she means wearing a comfortable and very chic pleated high-waisted pant out to a club at night, instead of the expected miniskirt. As a result, she stands out in the most assured way. Natalie is a wealth of intelligence when it comes to clothing, and it shows in how thoughtful and well-edited her wardrobe is. Vintage Sonia Rykiel blazers for her are a mild obsession and give a sharp, polished aesthetic. (She claims they fit like a dream, even if they are two sizes too big, but doesn’t hesitate to cut them until right.) A lot of Natalie’s style has to do with the idea behind the things that she wears. On Sonia Rykiel, “I associate a breton stripe, a little flash, a little glitz. It’s very Parisian to me.” (Also very Parisian, to me, is her use of one perfect red lipstick, it made me want to wear it too, but in no way does it work, bummer!) Then there is the education from “Prof.” Natalie of knowing “the difference between getting one pair of amazing black pants instead of a millon from Zara” when speaking about her Maria Cornejo, “high-tech stretch fabric” leggings. I couldn’t agree more. We also see eye to eye on not owning one pair of strappy pumps – why would you, when you can invest in the much more provocative ankle boot with heels? They work with everything, but more importantly, give a dress the edge it needs. I love the way Natalie refers to herself as “remotely” sexy in her very unique-to-her combo of a 1960’s disco paillette tank, London schoolboy blazer, and 1940’s baggy silk shorts. Remotely sexy androgyny, feel comfortable in all dimensions of oneself – it is all the new flirtation
I love how Olivia’s entire wardrobe changed when she bought a motorcycle to travel on in the City. She went from floral dresses to layers of drapery, hooded sweaters, and leather. Her ingenuity takes her as far as to take a blanket that she found from Eastern Europe and turn it into a strapless dress to stay warm, and to turn an antique scissor into a necklace, in case of emergency. In fact, her accessories seem to be both time-honored and utilitarian, like the camera bag she uses as a purse. However, practicality doesn’t always rule. Despite Olivia’s recent obsession with shades of gray and degrees of warmth, she is suddenly in the mood for neon pink nail polish, orange lipstick, and denim jackets over peach chiffon.
Liz is a master of interpreting fashion and making it her own: whether it is classic, of the moment or an original invention. I appreciate her love of the pieces that are time-honored like the naval officer’s blazer with oversized boyfriend shirts and the cleanest of clean mini coat with thick tights and flats. However, I also love how Liz will jump right into her own rendition of last fall’s Nina Ricci tights pulled over a shoe and Rodarte’s arty, cut up leggings, without hesitation. To me, she is so inventive while remaining flawless in taste, in her juxtapositions of masculine and feminine. Mixing the unexpected is the key to style and Liz exemplifies this in her silk slips with combat boots and sheer blouses with the motorcycle jackets. She is fearless, and a stylist in the truest sense of the word, in her drive to experiment. It was a first for me to see a skirt as dress, with the waste on her shoulders, and a boot cut to make a spat. I live for this kind of inspiration.
I walked away from Nana’s shoot obsessing over the pair of baggy man’s trousers and remembering that no matter how many pairs of drop crotch pants that I own, nothing looks better than the classics. They were from Uniqlo, but she makes them look like they are from savile row. Every piece of clothing of Nana’s is quintessentially understated. Her camel strappy pump, plaid blazer and khaki trench are vintage Ferragamo, but at student prices and with her “cute” twist. Nana makes the sailor jumper the new navy blazer, everyone has to have one.
totally love their style. it's not right in your face, nearly minimalistic, with interesting cuts, asymmetries and layers, inspiring, timeless fabrics and warm reduced colours, masculin boyish, but at the same time feminin
James says that there isn’t any separation between his clothes and his personality. I can see exactly what he means when he espouses wanting to feel like he is on a rowboat off the coast of Iceland covered in mist with his preference for dark colors, natural fabrics, and shrouds. He is about to embark on a journey of his nomadic existence by leaving NYC and moving to the woods outside of Seattle to make his album, where he feels that the different set of boundaries and a quieter place will encourage his creativity and tap into his affinity for native music. His hoods, exaggerated turtlenecks, asymmetrically draped coats and chunky cardigans work on the boat in Northern Europe as much as they do in Manhattan and in the forest. I don’t really see how he survived the suburbs of Orlando, where shocking as it seems, he did try fitting in for a minute in cargo khaki shorts. James was born in Ohio, raised in New Mexico and Florida, and then at 16 moved to Sweden. Scandanavian culture is his biggest reference point, everything from the natural beauty of the intense darkness and cold to the indigenous culture of the Sami tribe, where everything means something, from their intricate dress to their shaman drumming to their attunement to nature in their traditions. Feathers are James’ fetish accessory and he wraps himself in them when he performs. However, he is still striving to achieve the unapologetic dark artistry of his favorite singer, Karin Andersson of Fever Ray, whose originality manifests in things like her performing in a Buffalo hide. James’ favorite cartoon character is his tattoo, Snufkin, the Finnish archetype who follows his heart and his dreams and wears his clothes until they fall apart. When you wear your clothes until they fall off, the meaning of them takes on mythological proportions, much like everything does in James’ life.
Ich mag Mode, ich mag sie sogar sehr. Aber warum muss man auf teure Designer abfahren?? Die Schnitte bekommt man ähnlicherweise auch von anderer Quelle (und damit meine ich bestimmt nicht H&M oder Zara). Warum muss man sich Kleider für mehrere Hundert Euro kaufen, warum ein Alexander-Wang-Tank-Top, dass vom Schnitt nicht das revolutionärste ist. Klar, schön sind sie. Aber das sind viele anderen Dinge auch.Und nächste Saison ist es nicht mehr angesagt, also trägt man es nicht. Oder plötzlich rennen gar mehr als nur 2% der Menschen in der Stadt so rum - Resultat dasselbe. Weil man es sich vielleicht plötzlich leisten kann? Man kann auch in günstigerer Mode stilvoll aussehen und das Geld andersweitig ausgeben. Wo sind die Prioritäten?
Ist es nicht eine Sucht nach name-dropping or -wearing , oder gar einfach nur die/der erste zu sein, die es trägt, Vorreiter zu sein - egopimping? I don't know. Aber es geht schnell Ich möchte mich ganz und garnicht davon ausschließen. Ich frage mich nur, am eigenen Besipiel erfahren, wie man es sich als Schüler oder Student (was die meisten zu sein scheinen) alles leisten kann. Ist es nicht eher ein Teufelskreis, bei dem man mithalten will, um in der Bloggerwelt up to date zu bleiben? Wo ist die Individalität geblieben , Originalität, Charakter?
Mode sollte zeitlos sein, heißgeliebt und geschätzt. Das sehe ich teilweise nicht mehr. Ganz besonders nicht auf deutschen Modeblogs, auf denen sich sowieso alles wiederholt. Graue Einheitsmasse. Oder sollte ich besser sagen, diese Saison, schwarz-weiß-nude Einerlei?
Und bitte, Mädels, High-Waist steht nur den wenigsten; vornehmlich Personen mit knabenhaften Zügen. Extrem unvorteilhaft! Und die erste Karottenhose ist auch schon gesichtet..