Stylish Read: "Colorful" by Iris Apfel

Colorful she was, as is "Colorful", the book. Published shortly after Iris Apfel's death at 102 this March, "Colorful" is not really an autobiography, though she writes with affection about her parents and grandparents and late husband Carl. It's not a style book or book of secrets either, as she tells us in the introduction's first sentence. 

"Colorful" is really a coffee table memento—albeit for a small table as it measures 8" x 10". It feels hefty and is nicely printed on glossy stock. As a former graphic designer I would think this sophisticated scrapbook must have been a fun assignment. Speaking of scraps, photos of swatches from her fabric company, Old World Weavers, are woven throughout the book. Iris may have wished for that part of her life to be recognized, especially as she writes how her grandmother's fabric scraps initiated her love of textiles.

There are many photo portraits of her in full Iris Apfel garb (from commercial projects) and snapshots taken through the years. Those, although printed small, are quite interesting. We see many Irises, all hinting at her originality, but it took years and years to hone her ultimate style. 

Iris' philosophy could probably be summed up with "Just do it!". Believing in yourself is the major point she makes. Easier said than done, of course, but it can be done. Many of her thoughts may indeed be fairly worn cliches, including her own, "More is more and less is a bore". I appreciated that she stresses kindness above all. You can't push your way into others' hearts. 

As for the Iris style, if you want to just ogle her outfits there is the 2007 book of the exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art which started it all. But Iris Apfel was way more than a clotheshorse. By this time she was a fragile-looking 76-year-old, but the moment she spoke you realized this was not just a snappy dresser but a woman who spoke her mind and had a lot to say..

As her fame grew she also published "Accidental Icon: Musings of a Geriatric Starlet" in 2018.

As for the teeny bit of style advice we do get in "Colorful", I loved that she admited to sometimes wearing the same outfit two days in a row. "...because it's all put together already, and I can just jump into it, jump on my broom, and fly off." 

And this most important of edicts: "Dress exactly the way you want to and you'll always look wonderful because you'll feel wonderful—you'll feel like yourself."

No one should aim to dress like her nor would she ever want that, but I think we can all benefit from a little touch of Iris, whose life was full and certainly in color.

In Praise of the Ratty Old _ _ _ _ _ _

Everyone has one— that ratty old something too comfy to part with, too raggedy to be seen in good company (family excepted). It may the pilled cardigan you reach for every time there's a chill or the perfectly broken-in slippers that truly have seen better days. We just can't seem to get rid of them. Even worse, we really don't want to. There's something very comforting about those things you put on almost without thinking. I have two: the ratty old bathrobe and the ratty old sweatshirt.

THE BATHROBE started out quite the sale find at Anthropologie, so it had provenance. Rather than save it for good (an invite to—say—Downton Abbey), I wear it all the time. It's not too big and not too small, not too short and not too long. It's a nice shade of mouse grey terry in a jacquard pattern that looks like vintage toweling. By now it looks like the towels you should keep in the garage for emergencies. It's suffered a few mishaps in the washing machine (how did those bleach spots get there?????) and managed to pick up a rust stain that is now eating through the fabric. The pockets are misshapen from being overstuffed with kleenex. It's still the first thing I reach for after a shower. I know what it looks like so I just avoid mirrors. It's not my only bathrobe. I have two others hanging on the same hook outside the bathroom and one in a box in the closet that I even look at sometimes. AND I've my eye on a waffle weave cotton kimono style that I'm sure would be perfect. But not as perfect as this one.

THE SWEATSHIRT is another story. I picked it up at the coop the weekend I had a date with a boy at Ohio University. I was a junior in high school (still can't believe my mother let me go), and I don't remember the boy for the life of me. I have a vague memory of him at the fraternity house, but you could pull out my nails and I still couldn't tell you his name. That sweatshirt, though, has painted every apartment or house I've ever painted and planted any garden I've ever grown. It must have shrunk as the sleeves are barely bracelet length. If you ever want a sweatshirt to feel like a fuzzy, soft second skin, just wash it regularly over the course of 65 years. This is not an item to be replaced. It still performs its intended functions perfectly. I make no apologizes when wearing it. It is what it is, with an added layer of nostalgia. 

Maybe now you will look at your ratty old friend in a new way, since that will be the only thing new about it.

Nothing New Underfoot

 
These Jimmy Choo pumps from his Fall 2024 line are the perfect example. Aside from the fabulous shade of red and terrifying shape of heel, they look so very much like a pair of Capezio navy kid heels I bought in 1965. 

I've not been wearing them all these years. They've sat in a box way at the back of the closet as a relic of a very distant past—young woman in the big city. Why did I keep them? They were one of the first things I bought with My Own Money and the shoes I wore to my interview with the Art Director of Glamour Magazine. I got the job.

They also reinforce my conviction that THERE IS NOTHING NEW.

Fashionable fact: the older you are the less new there will be. I didn't make up "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." Sometimes it's a relief to find you don't have to reinvent your wardrobe to feel stylish and current, but relief is turning to malaise.

It would seem a very good year to restock your basics—the white shirt, the perfect tee (or tees), the classic pullover or cardigan, jeans, etc. Take a good look at what you've been putting on without a second thought. So often we don't give these close inspection. Discovering the fraying, graying, pilling and yellowing of life can be a bit of a shock!    

This is not to say dressing for fall 2024 doesn't have its challenges. Things are always being put together differently. It's how you do it that is the challenge. As always it's about flattering your body type and fitting the occasion, and—most importantly—making you feel fabulous. That never ends. Only this year you may be spending more time in your closet and less shopping.

But when you do, bring money. Lots of money.

Madame Predicts...Really?

 
You know you're getting old when you can honestly say you've seen everything. There's no fashion trend I haven't lived through or seen revived, sometimes multiple times. So I, Madame, predicts there will be nothing new this fall. However, fashion is a Rolodex—and if you know what that is you too may consider yourself old.

Spinning the cards on their little wheel, I see the following trends. For no rhyme or reason in no particular order:

WIDE-LEG JEANS
Denim refuses to die. Is it because denim is so American, and we Americans take pride in our national treasures? No style of jeans is ever really "out", but some do make it to the head of the line. This fall expect to see a lot of wide legs. Don't reject this out of hand if you are petite (5'4" and under). The idea of tucking and belting your top lengthens the leg and plays with proportion. Don't tuck, and you will look like a brick.

Banana Republic, $120

GENDER FLUID
AKA The Boyfriend. It used to be great fun to borrow from the fellas. Now it might be "making a statement". But it's still fun. Vests are back. It's a fitted vest, not oversized, so you can't steal it from his closet (if he still has one—vest that is, not closet). In theory this will give a lift to what you already own. I like that idea. The vest tried to make a run for it a few seasons ago. Let's see how it plays out this time.

Amazon, $25.66

Just kidding...

TAILORING
Banish the word "suit". It's now called jacket-and-skirt, giving one the freedom to pair with other pieces, something that was always hard to do when we called it a suit. I'm seeing a lot more structured dresses as well. There will be no slouching. For these you have to stand up straight and wear proper shoes, which will start you thinking of a proper handbag, etc. We don't all need this look in our wardrobes anymore, but it does feel like we've grown tired of casual 24/7. At least the designers have.

Givenchy

SHEER
If you dare. But really you don't have to be that daring. Anyone can pull off sheer sleeves, and a nude cami under a sheer top does a good job of fooling-the-eye. A sheer skirt can be the illusion of (see below). So along with tailoring is a kind of grown-up romance. Think combining the two.

Zara, $89.90

EXPENSIVE
The fact that new clothes are expensive should come as no surprise, but because they really are expensive should give one reason to pause and shop very, very carefully. Pay no attention that I just ordered the skirt, above, while doing research. Even fast fashion has caught on to this trend. Gone are the days of a $39.90 dress at Zara. More than ever Madame predicts we will be shopping sale, off-price, thrift or vintage.

SHAGGY AND FLUFFY
We've gotten so used to faux there is no need to pretend it's fur any longer. Expect to see all kinds of shaggy and fluffy outerwear, scarves and trims. 

Hope for a cold winter...

COLOR
Madame goes out on a limb here and predicts that one of the hardest colors to wear, one that most people don't like but is actually a favorite of mine will show up this fall. Chartreuse gets a bad rap. Perhaps it would do better if renamed "gecko" or "grasshopper". I expect to see it only in small doses, but if you wear this you will surely pop:

Jason Wu

Stylish Read: "Ex-Wife"

Norma Shearer in "The Divorcee"*

Be advised "Ex-Wife" is not exactly upbeat. Published in 1929 and reprinted several times, this was the first book by Ursula Parrott, a novelist and prolific short story writer for women's magazines. A roman a clef, "Ex-Wife" is her best remembered work. I would not have known of it or Ursula Parrott but for a much-belated obituary recently in the New York Times. There was none when she died in 1957.

Copy and paste this to read it:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/07/10/obituaries/ursula-parrott-overlooked.html?unlocked_article_code=1.Dk4.PqAC.NDSWtilgIlmj&smid=url-share

An early edition

The ex-wife of the title is young, still in her early 20s, whose marriage dissolves under the weight of unintended circumstances. Though I've never had an ex-husband I certainly had an ex-boyfriend—the trauma of which I carried around too long.

The book was considered quite shocking at the time for its frank portrayal of "gay young things" in New York City in the hectic middle of the roaring twenties. The earliest flappers had been rebellious teenage girls. By this time they were adults in a world with no rules how emancipated women should behave. 

Our heroine, Pat, and her slightly older friend, Lucia, are justifying their actions as they go, while running up against the still-ingrained good girl/bad girl double standard of men for women. I won't tell you how it ends, but let's say it would be an odd choice for a Lifetime Movie of the Week.

In time Pat, writing in the first person, reaches a foothold on maturity (we hope). I may not have liked all the characters—certainly some of the men, who become almost interchangeable—but I could see a little bit of Pat in my younger self, trying in vain to redo the over-and-done. And not for nothing, my mother would have been Pat's age and briefly living in New York City around then. For the hundredth time I wondered what she might have been like as a young woman.

Ursula Parrott, strikingly modern-looking

What makes "Ex-Wife" relevant to Allwaysinfashion? The book is a fabulous glimpse into the look of the period. Pat is consumed with appearances—clothes, hair, makeup, style (hers and every other woman's). Interestingly she is also an ad copywriter for a department store. Pat is so clueless she has no problem in her deepest misery being cheered by borrowing a gold wrap to put over a red dress. Her solution to anything is buy a new outfit or at least have a manicure. Even lingerie is important. In the middle of recording a heart-to-heart with Lisa she will mention details of the negligee Lisa is wearing. Clothes hold her together as she deals with her life.

"Recollection that the last time (name withhold not to give away the plot) ever saw me, I was wearing a bright red dress from Paris, with a hat that matched it precisely, and a brand new grey Krimmer coat, would be some comfort to me, always. That might be absurd. It was nonetheless profoundly true."

She wore what she wrote...

 
"Ex-Wife" is a fascinating, contemporaneous account of how these "new women" were dressing as well as navigating without a playbook. They had no idea they were creating the plays we've followed (or cast aside) ever since.

 
*"Ex-Wife" was the basis for 1930's "The Divorcee" starring a radiant, Oscar-winning Norma Shearer. Catch it on TCM sometime if you can. And, yes, Ursula Parrott sold scrennplays to Hollywood.

How to Justify a Splurge...

We've all done it at various times: paid too much for something and either happily lived with it or admitted we made a mistake.

It's rare the splurge itself isn't fraught with machinations of justification, ranging from "I deserve this" to  "If I wear it four times a week for ten years it will cost nothing". Sometimes there is no hesitation and only regret. Think of a Mimosa-filled brunch with friends that ends with the group trolling through Saks Fifth Avenue and, well, you can guess what happens.

Sometimes the splurge does not justify itself immediately. I treasure an unusual, pricey dress by a designer no longer in business that I purchased almost 20 years ago. It's a style vaguely '20s but not really and can be tied several ways for different looks. It always answers the What shall I wear to this thing? question. At the time I was not so sure. I just knew it was love.

RIP Christopher Deane

Likewise the reverse. You may hold onto that white $ilk shirt for years before realizing you have never worn it. By then it's yellowed a bit and won't button at the waist. This is easy to get rid of because you can always blame the short life of 100% silk.   

There are splurges for good, such as when you have found The Perfect Something-or-Other. This is the purchase that will stop your ever looking for it again: the perfect handbag, the perfect cashmere cardigan, the perfect pair of jeans. You will only search again when it's falling apart, way too late to have bought a second "just in case". Invariably this is the most expensive version of what you seek. If it's not, you may still keep looking.

There is something wonderful about buying a basic piece you will wear and wear, and every time you do you will know it's the best of its kind you could buy. I'm not talking about spending $600 for a pair of pants from The Row. That's only paying for the name, and we're not playing that game.

Any time I've done it (and there have not been many), I've never been sorry. In fact fairly recently I did something similar. I've had a pair of slim leg double knit black pull on pants for years that were probably $15 at TJ Maxx. Even though they look good and still do, really, I am aware that A) someday they are going to fall apart and B) they are not The Best. 

When I get dressed to impress (so to speak) I'm very aware those pants are not "good". So when I came across their equivalent from Vince (also at T J Maxx but in The Runway) I plunked down the $100 and am not sorry. It does make a difference; you know what you are wearing.

Don't worry, as I have, that paying too much for a basic will set you on the slippery slope where you will henceforth only be happy with $475 Loro Piana t-shirts. We've long been told that it's better to have fewer items of quality than many which are not. As someone who loves volume and choice, I've not always agreed. In the case of a good basic, I can now see the wisdom. 

* * * * *

There are three categories of splurges:

THE WAIT-AND-SEE
This one operates with a carefully thought out battle plan. You dream about it, locate it, find the best price, dream some more, start justifying, etc. I'm presently trying to find a tiny but thick pair of real gold hoop earrings on a post, not impossible because I found a cheap, costume jewelry pair. My search for the real thing is a great excuse to go shopping. I've yet to find them, but I will splurge when I do. I just hope it's not too soon.

THE SPONTANEOUS
I'm all for this splurge because one never knows when you will fall for something. Unless it's a flash sale or final markdown, you can usually put it on hold. Go home, think about it, come back, try it on again. After all that you should know. If you don't/can't put it on hold you may be playing a game of Russian roulette. If you lose you can always convince yourself "it wasn't meant to be." Personally, I don't enjoy that game. I'd rather buy it and return it.

THE AFFORDABLE
You really don't need it, but it won't set you back much. This is kind of my philosophy when trolling through a vintage store or a sales rack. I might not need it, but it scratches some itch. I set a $30 limit for myself and don't look back. Over time, however, these "little splurges" can add up. I try not to do the math.

 * * * * *

Now no one likes returning something. If not an admission of guilt, the return will be an inconvenience at best, an annoyance at worst. I counsel, in the immortal words of Cher in "Moonstruck", get over it. I understand; it's a hurdle, but you will feel so much better unloading this thing you don't really want. Just don't make it a habit.

Always know the store's return policy. Have you ever been confronted with "no returns, exchanges only" when trying to get your money back? This mainly happens at small, expensive boutiques where you have spent too much by even going in (longing can be costly).

In conclusion a splurge can be justified with some kind of logic (twisted or otherwise) and can (usually) be rectified should your cooler head prevail. In any case a splurge is an act best made sparingly.

PS While researching images, I found the photo of that dress, above, on Poshmark, along with a cropped blouse version in the same arresting print. Well, I already have the dress, but I just bought the blouse. $25—an affordable splurge.

Stylish Read: "When Women Ran Fifth Avenue"

Fashion! Shopping! New York! "When Women Ran Fifth Avenue: Glamour and Power at the Dawn of American Fashion" promises a lot. I wanted to love this book. I didn't. While the subject is fascinating, and the three women profiled have interesting stories, author Julie Satow has crammed in much extraneous information, literally sowing these chapters into the book in a different typeface. 

In truth none of her main subjects (Hortense Odlum, Dorothy Shaver and Geraldine Stutz) "ran" Fifth Avenue. In its heyday Fifth Avenue was home to dozens of male-run department and specialty stores. Not to put too fine a point on it, Henri Bendel wasn't even on Fifth Avenue when run by Stutz. Each woman was important but ran only her own show.

Instead of telling one woman's story in a linear manner we time travel between Hortense and Dorothy and Geraldine for no particular reason. Satow will come to a decisive moment in someone's life, end with a teaser (..."and there were changes on the horizon that would soon threaten Dorothy's impressive legacy") then move on to another subject. Resisting the temptation to skip ahead, I went along with the clunky style, finding myself more and more annoyed.

* * * 

Hortense when she ran Bendel's

Hortense Odlum is an unusual choice to profile as she was president of Bonwit Teller for barely seven years. She had never worked a day when her husband picked up an ailing Bonwit's as an investment. Hortense reluctantly took on the task of updating staid Bonwit's, ostensibly to allow him more time with his manicurist girlfriend. Floyd Odlum eventually married the manicurist, Jaqueline Cochran, who, as a crack pilot, did much for women in the WWII air forces. See what I mean about wandering?

Dorothy in her office

Dorothy Shaver at Lord & Taylor, deserves a book of her own. A southern gal who came to New York with a dream, she achieved her lofty goals with visionary ideas and the knack for getting things done. Her tenure at Lord & Taylor was a long one. Under Dorothy Lord & Taylor set the stage for department store as style arbiter. Many of her innovations (like the College Shop) were adopted all over the country. Hired in 1921, she was President from 1945 until her death in 1959, and her influence guided the store for many years after.

Geraldine at Bendel's

Henri Bendel may not be familiar to as many readers. Bendel under Geraldine Stutz was small but mighty and dripping with cachet. Her embrace of upcoming young designers brought recognition to many. A master of display and believer in visual merchandising, her "Street of Shops" concept became the model for shopping as an Experience. These chapters feel the most complete, likely because Satow was able to interview many who knew or worked with Stutz.

And while interesting nuggets on their own, her forays into other areas (the first Black-owned department store, Elizabeth Hawes' experiences purloining couture to copy in Paris, the history of store window mannequins, etc.) feel like padding.

Would I recommend "When Women Ran Fifth Avenue"? For the information, yes. For the pleasure of reading a well-paced, well-edited book? Not so much.

* * *

Unlike the author, who regrets she missed the Great Age of these stores, I remember them well. I miss those days, when walking into a store filled one with delight and promise, longing and satisfaction. Some of my own recollections from that magical time long, long ago:

Bonwit's NY flagship in the '30s

Bonwit Teller had a teeny-tiny branch in Cleveland, but it was the place to shop when you could, if you could. That was where my Aunt Sally bought a $40 handbag back when $40 was equal to $400 today. She swore me to secrecy. My one-and-only Lanz dress came from Bonwit Teller, as did the Hattie Carnegie label I found on the dressing room floor that I sewed into a cotton dress. It then ran in the wash.

L&T— famous for its Christmas windows

Lord & Taylor was so much a part of New York, its closure can only have been met with disbelief. L&T was where my mother and older sister bought winter coats on our family trip in 1951. I can still see my father impatiently tapping his feet while they tried them on and reacting in mock horror when he got the bill. Me? I was just biding my time until we got to FAO Schwartz. Years later Lord & Taylor was where my mother, since moved to NYC herself, got her post-retirement job in the lingerie department. She loved it.

The 57th Street Bendel's

 
I interviewed once at Henri Bendel with Geraldine Stutz for the position of Art Director. I had no business even applying because I was woefully unqualified. She was incredibly nice and never told me I wasn't right for the position, but I'm sure she knew. Once I realized what it entailed I was truly relieved not to get the job.

Top Ten Fashion Truth or Consequences

Like all things in life, fashion has its pitfalls, its La Brea tar pits. Fall into them, and you may sink. Madam here reveals the traps that may trip.

And what gives me the authority? Well, I am a woman. I have been shopping for clothes a good 70 years and wearing them for 81 1/2. I know what the lessons are but don't always learn them. I have faced the consequences. My lovely friend DO started this ball rolling, reminding me we've all been there and misery loves company.

Ten of the most galling truths, in no particular order:

>Just because it looks good on the hanger doesn’t mean it’ll look good on you. If it looks terrible on the hanger, it may actually look good on you. This is why when you go shopping you must try everything on.

> Buy for the life you have, not the life you want to have. Too much aspiration is a bad thing! You end up with a museum of clothes that are “too good to wear.” 

> “Love the fabric” does not equal “love the garment.”

> "Love the color" does not mean you should wear it, but you can live with it. Interior decorating is fun!

> If your shoes hurt it doesn't matter what you are wearing. You will be miserable, and no matter how beautiful you look, you will feel terrible.

> Never take new shoes (or new anything for that matter) on a trip.

> Try not to wear something for the first time to a special occasion, unless it's your wedding. Since this is practically impossible to do unless cocktail hour around your house is quite the event, try on all the pieces enough times to feel very sure how everything goes, sits, moves, etc.

> If something in your closet stares you in the face as a bad buy, get rid of it. Don’t throw good money after bad. If it’s fundamentally wrong, you can’t fix it, no matter what accessories you think will save it.

> Try your new purchase on again when you get home. Things look different in your own mirror. Leave the tags on and keep the receipt handy. Buyer's remorse is debilitating, and returning can be an admission of defeat at the very least, but sometimes it's necessary. Those who work in retail do understand...to a point. Serial returners are never welcome. If you are one, you need to learn restraint.

> If you've had a really bad experience wearing a particular item of clothing, get rid of it. I know; it happened to me, and every time I looked at that shirt I remembered a Really Bad Day. While the reverse can be true as well, if you can't fit into it or it isn't part of your life anymore (hello, college sweatshirt) pack it away tenderly and carefully. Just don't keep it in your closet.

In light of all that can go wrong, don't be too hard on yourself. You'll have another chance to get dressed tomorrow.

Stylish Read: "Double Click"

If you're old enough to remember the Doublemint Twins campaign for Wrigley's gum, the title "Double Click" makes perfect sense. Twin sisters Frances and Kathryn McLaughlin were born in 1919, grew up adorable, photogenic and attached at the hip. Exceptionally smart, they both gravitated to art, then photography and married photographers. Each had successful, separate photographic careers and were still close (but less attached at the hip) throughout their lives.

Franny and Fuffy (Kathryn)
or is it Fuffy and Franny?

 
So how could this possibly fill 405 pages, including 46 pages of end notes, a 20-page index and 12-page "cast of characters"? Read that first, by the way, as therein lies the heart of the story. The author, Carol Kino, realized that her twin subjects were at the very center of New York fashion and magazine publishing in the 1940s and '50s. The people in their lives included the well known (Carmel Snow, Alexander Liberman) as well as the lesser known (Toni Frissell, Margaret Hockaday) and a whole bunch more. They all get their own profiles as the story of the twins unfolds.

Franny and Kathryn (for sure)

As a student of all things fashion history, I was enthralled, but less so by the twins themselves. For much of the book they seemed to enjoy a good time and having fun, albeit in chaste ways appropriate to the era. They weren't interviewed for this book as both died in 2014 at 94 and 95. Frances lived the longest.

How could they not come off a bit entitled? Fuffy and Franny (the names they went by) were gifted with good looks and intelligence. Although they claimed to have worked hard, which they no doubt did, the novelty of being twins surely must have given them two feet in the door.

Full disclosure: I knew Frances McLaughlin-Gill. She often had assignments from Glamour when I was starting out (1965) and worked for Glamour until the later part of the '60s. She was a welcome visitor in the art department, where everyone called her "Franny" and seemed to have known her for years, which they did. 

Franny shooting for Glamour in the '50s

In 1946 Frances was the first woman hired as a staff photographer in the Conde Nast photo studio. Although the studio closed in 1954, she was still working freelance for Glamour. By the time I met her, she was doing the smaller shoots around town and studio work but never sent on the big trips. Those were often shot by the Europeans Alexander Liberman was "trying out" at Glamour before moving up to Vogue or by a stable of New Yorkers, all men (especially Bill Connors and Sante Forlano). Franny was dependable and uber-professional. Her work would be exactly what the assignment called for. No drama.

I remember her as a nice looking woman in her 'mid 40s, She wore little makeup and had a simple hairstyle. I recall her wearing a plain shirt and skirt or a chino raincoat. Of course I never called her Franny; she was "Mrs. Gill" to me and was always very pleasant to this newbie learning the ropes. I had no idea she had a twin. Kathryn (Abbe) was also well known both as a fashion photographer and candid photographer of children. 

A very young Carmen by Franny

 
If I was somewhat disappointed that I never felt I knew the two McLaughlins, "Double Click" was rewarding in many other ways, from the little known history of College Boards and junior magazines to the host of amazing talents and personalities that were part of their lives.

I arrived in New York City at the tail end of this era, but Kino's cast of characters were still important, and their goings-on were still office fodder. I learned who all the players were and some delicious gossip to boot. Reading "Double Click" filled in the gaps and polished the gems. It was fun.

She plays a role in the story.

 

 

Fashion Magazines Have Lost Their Minds

It's official. With so little left of print publications, the few major remaining (Vogue, Harper's Bazaar and Elle in the United States) have been teetering on the absurd for ages. They've now toppled.

Of the three Elle, with Nina Garcia at the helm, seemed the most reasonable. It celebrated the fun that is the fantasy of fashion along with some stuff you could really wear. The March issue, at 216 pages and healthier than usual, is both silly and sad.

Really?

Really?

Really?

Really?

I have a sheet...

Really?

Really?

What even is this anyway?

Gone are the days when a magazine had the hubris to tell you what to wear. Once upon a time Glamour even published a "What to Wear With What" chart twice a year that I looked forward to. A blessing! Yes, it can be a relief not to be restricted as to "what's in/what's out" today. On the other hand... Some love rules and feel comforted by them. Others like rules in order to flaunt them. 

 
So no rules today (other than those of decency and your own preferences). But what about inspiration? Where are we getting that from? There are a few good authorities—Jess Cartner-Morley, Alyson Walsh and Trinny Woodall—but none of them are based in the States. Vanessa Friedman is a terrific reporter for the NY Times, but she's largely not an advisor. Celebrities? How many red carpet events do you attend?

I will troll the stores to see if I can get excited. There are less of them, and I have better things to do. Once upon a time my path from work to home took me onto Fifth or Madison Avenues; lunch break meant I could run down to 34th Street or up to 59th. I don't live there anymore. Even in those halcyon days, I loved fashion magazines. I can only imagine their many thousands of readers outside metropolitan areas loved them too.

Depending where you were on your life's journey, the fashion magazines spoke to you like a wise young aunt, a hip big sister or a smart, chic girlfriend. You might not always take her advice, but you loved hearing what she had to say. Today's magazines may be amusing themselves. but they are delighting—and enlightening—no one else.