I like nice threads. I don't own too many, but I have a good eye, and I notice details. In the last couple of years I've learned to forgo constant shopping for cheap thrills, and I've replaced it with less frequent shopping for nicer, perhaps pricier items. I've also been very careful to pick up duds I think will last over time. So my rule has become, if it's a fad, you can buy it cheap and less-well-made, because you won't be wearing it in a year.
I'm not rich, so I spend a lot of time drooling over certain apparel. I have a very distinct memory of walking into Saks Fifth Avenue and staring at a hand embroidered silk-organza jacket. It was $5000 and in a glass case. I couldn't afford it obviously, but I am happy to say that I own at least a few items that I believe are well-constructed, striking and not in everyone else's closet. My closet only gets better with time.
I know there are women who don't like to shop. I am not one of them. Look. My mom was a seamstress. And she had a really great sense of what looked good on her. She could be a peacock at a party. And my dad. He is vain. And he transfered his vanity and attention to aesthetics to me. "Why aren't you wearing any earrings?" he might ask, as I was headed off to a party. "You should put some on. It looks nice," he would say with a degree of irritation that I hadn't thought of it myself. DECORATE yourself, is what he was really saying. Show yourself off! Be feminine! Your mother and I gave you looks, use them.
So yes. I like to shop. And the other day, I - a woman who appreciates texture, pattern, the particular weave of fabric, the way color can transform you, cuts and stitching - I felt totally thrown off of a horse and offended. And I need to get it off my chest. My girlfriends are tired of hearing me vent.
LADIES. This dress
IS HIDEOUSLY UGLY. It can't even be considered a fad.
I don't remember the last time I had such a violent reaction to a piece of clothing. The other day I'm driving, and I pass a Gap and notice in the display window THE UGLIEST DRESS EVER (see above - how could I miss it?). I nearly had to stop my car to catch my breath. Really? I wondered. The Gap is selling THAT dress; and they've really gone the next level and put it in their window display as one of the primo-must-have-for-summer items? It's fucking ugly. The ruffle at the bottom doesn't make it any more dainty or feminine. Neither does the tie at the chest.
So, girls, if you wander into a Gap and see this mustard yellow, rust red and khaki colored ankle-length sleeping-bag-liner/lumberjack-flannel-jacket of a dress spit in your eye, don't let it fool you. Don't let The Gap fool you. And, please, do your due diligence as good female friends and warn your lady-friends. Because I just do not want to run into some vulnerable and well-meaning woman while she is being blanketed by that hideous sack.
Dear people over at The Gap:
There is nothing basic or essential about that dress. Comfort is not an excuse. The dress is ugly (and how can one experience comfort knowing she looks like camping gear). That plaid bag stands to make women around America - busy moms and women who are afraid of shopping and don't want to have to think it through, or well-intended aunts shopping for teenage nieces - these women who believe The Gap is safe like vanilla ice cream (the brand you created for yourself)- this dress strands to make them look dumpy and 100% fashion-illiterate. Gap, is this some kind of sick joke?
Seeing that dress in your window was enough to make me boycott The Gap. I don't even want your t-shirts and underwear.
Pheeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhh. feeling better.
SONG: I got nothin'. So I'm leaving you with the songs from yesterday's post.