I don’t really appreciate nor understand fashion to the degree most people do. It’s sort of the way I hear people talk about modern art and “not getting it”. Not in a bad way-just that I am often left puzzled and wondering why the hell I am supposed to spend $800 on a pair of shoes I will no doubt ruin in about twenty minutes.
My sister is a fashion diva. She LOVES clothes and knows clothes and has so many god damn clothes…it’s amazing. Unfortunately, her passion for fashion negates my theory that I am fashion retarded because of the mere fact I grew up on Long Island. After all while my cool ‘city’ friends were combing the racks of Benetton I was forced to shop at clothing stores bearing such names as “Fashion Bug”, “Dress Corral” and “Shirt Shack”.
One time my father took me into the city and we went to Antique Boutique –the old, cool one with mannequins hanging from the ceiling and silver spray painted walls and mirrored ramps. Pops bought me a $99 pink denim cropped jean jacket with like…10,000 pockets. For the time it was amazing. And don’t think I didn’t bust it out to the tune of Welcome to the Jungle at my next small town carnival.
Last night I have to confess to watching the final episode of fashion reality show “Project Runway”. I actually enjoyed it despite not having followed along all season. I think it was helpful to see the ‘behind the scenes’ of how a show is put a together. It flashed me back to the one and only fashion show that I attended and actually was in. At the time I was an intern for PAPER Magazine and one of their contacts-a skateboard/snowboard designer was launching a wacky fashion line. They needed ‘normal’ models to wear the clothes in an upcoming fashion show. Thanks to the lack of digital cameras in the day, I think it’s safe to say there is not a single digital photo of me in a plastic see-through blazer with a pink fur collar and a short-short leather mini-anywhere on the Internet. Then again…look what happened to Paris.