Going to Hell in a Handbag

It's the end of the world as we know it. Like a very tardy Chicken Little I have only now discovered the $1790 Balenciaga trash bag. It popped up yesterday on my Facebook feed but has been collecting derision and debris since August 2022.

Perhaps that is even more astounding. This affront to good taste and raspberry to consumerism is still on the Saks Fifth Avenue website as well as others, including Balenciaga's own. In fact a used trash bag costs even more ($1980). Maybe it briefly carried a celebrity's trash. I didn't investigate.

I can be a fashion jokester. My favorite necklace is one I made from a copper elbow joint from the hardware store and a thick piece of cord. I love when it's admired and love even more when I'm asked, "Is that an elbow joint?"

But a trash bag is different. It too closely resembles the homeless I see on the street carrying their worldly belongings. The next thing I think of is a former First Lady's "I really don't care, do you?" jacket. I'll never understand why she was not more pilloried for that, worn to a disaster site no less. 

Unforgettable and unforgivable

This trash bag just isn't funny. Or wry. Or intended to make one think. It's listed as "in limited supply" and comes in black as well. 

Don't even get me started what this does for the legacy of Balenciaga. Cristobal Balenciaga was an elegant, Spanish-born couturier, hailed by Dior as "the master of us all". Even the curmudgeonly Chanel sang his praises. His exquisitely fashioned designs were most prominent in the post-WWII years until he closed the House in 1968. He was not a splashy self-promoter, but it's pretty well acknowledged his work influenced everyone in how women dressed. When Balenciaga died in 1972 the headline in Women's Wear Daily read, "The King is Dead." The brand was revived in 1986, but I think it's fair to say "in name only."

Cristobal + a 1951 Balenciaga

Why this trash bag is still kicking around for real is a mystery. I will commend Saks Fifth Avenue for not removing the 4 and 5-star reviews from their website. They are clever and pithy and will give you a chuckle as you realize it's the end of the world as we know it. I do care; don't you?

You've Got Mail!

When was the last time you found an actual letter in your mailbox? I can't even remember. There have been the occasional birthday cards from far-away friends (thank you!!!), but even those have dwindled. Forget about Christmas cards. Since the price of a "forever" stamp is now 66 cents, I doubt I can count on a festive display this year. I even get less bills. Not because I have less; many companies opted out of sending them as most are paid online.

There we are. Very little reason to open the mailbox other than to relieve it of the few magazines still limping in and the deluge of junk mail touting hearing aids, burial plots and prime wasteland in mid- Texas. 

I still get excited when I spot a catalog. Always have, even when I was a little girl and they were addressed to my mother. A favorite childhood pastime was to decide what to choose from each page. There had to be one thing, and some of those dresses from Lana Lobell were god-awful.

At times it was hard...

Although I grew up in a moderately-sized city, large enough to support several department stores and branches of a few New York specialty shops, it was still a thrill to order from a catalog. One in New Rochelle, just outside New York City, catered to my fashion-obsessed teen self. "The French Boot Shop" got the zeitgeist of the '50s-'60s. Long gone, it still has rabid fans, and the rare old catalog making it to Ebay gets snapped up fast.

Rare as hen's teeth...

Sears, Spiegel and Montgomery Ward were known as the "dream books" as they made delivery a reality throughout the country. I wonder what waiting for your order to arrive was like. Without other options it might have been bearable. We don't have patience for that today. Even a week seems like an eternity. Overnight is better.

Slo-mazon...

The catalog morphed into an important promotional tool. The goal was not to sell you this or that from page xx or xx but to pull you into the store. J Crew pretty much became the success it did on the strength of its catalog, as did Anthropologie. Both created worlds to either emulate or envy. Either way, they brought you in.

Anthro dreams by the dozen...

Sometimes it didn't work. J Peterman (yes the one from Seinfeld) publishes one of the most readable catalogs in direct mail history, but their foray into brick-and-mortar failed miserably. That white shirt was just another white shirt without the backstory that made it so irresistible on paper.

The pleasures of J Peterman...

We tend to save catalogs. I have a bunch from defunct stores that I loved looking through but never ordered from. Could be why they are defunct. Ann Taylor catalogs from the '90s were my guide to looking like a professional working woman. I can't throw them out, despite the giant shoulders and my long-standing retirement. 

Tailored for the job...

Along the way I picked up some late 1920's (pre crash) catalogs from Marshall Field. What fun they are to read, all the while thinking how little anyone knew what lay ahead.

Who could know...?

Many catalogs I receive are on account of my having shopped there and would physically do so again. J Jill, Talbot's, Johnny Was and J McLaughlin have stores in town. Land's End and LL Bean do not. They all present the merchandise pretty clearly. 

I recently read Boden is particularly successful in the US with its feminine/sporty/Princess Kate style. Boden has only one actual location (in London) so relies on its catalog for probably 99% of sales. Here is where I think that catalog misses the mark. The photographs are so lifestyle centric you can barely see the clothes. I would need to go online to do so. At the same time one must order online, where there are presumably many other items to choose from. Like my hybrid car, we have entered the age of multiple technologies. Get used to it.

What am I buying?

I will look through any catalog you send me. The holidays are not the same without The Swiss Colony and The Vermont Country Store. I will admire the bounty of your pecans at Sunnyland Farms, marvel at your variety of fruit cakes on Collin Street and always wonder who exactly are Harry & David. But the fashion catalogs will always be the true stuff of dreams.

Why I've Become a (Fashion) Vegan

Vegans are here to stay...

Becoming a Fashion Vegan has nothing to do with my love for animals or my choice of diet (kinda sorta vegetarian but for the occasional hamburger). I became a convert because Fashion is now doing such wonderful things with vegan leather.

I put down plastic leather in its early days, despite having a pair of black "pleather" pants. I felt rather risqué wearing them, as if they were some kind of bondage gear. They were also sweaty. No tears were shed when the material began to peel and they hit the trash.

I never minded impersonations, up to a point. I've long known that "patent leather" is no more leather than the apricot candy and "tortoise shell" accessories are honest-to-goodness plastic. But there was something about imitation leather shoes or handbags that seemed a poor substitute. But things that fool on purpose have always been fine (ie fake leopard anything).

When motorcycle jackets and black leather pants made it into my fashion stratosphere, I bought the real deal, a Schott leather jacket that weighed a ton and black leather pants I could hardly walk in. Evidently I was not meant to join that fashion gang. 

When introduced in the early '70s who didn't love Ultrasuede? A Japanese invention, Ultrasuede was used by Halston in 1972 for his first couture show and both were immediate hits. More supple than suede, washable and able to be produced in any color, alas Ultrasuede was expensive.

Halston and his first Ultrasuede creation

Fast forward a few decades and today you can find Ultrasued-ish garments in every price point. We just take it for granted now. This embrace of Vegan leather still feels newish. I only had to search "Vegan leather" on the Banana Republic Factory Store site to find myriad examples beyond pants of stylish Vegan leather and (because "Ultrasuede" is copywrighted) faux suede.

Classic trench $150

Bermuda short $56

Oversized shirt $63

Sleeveless coat $108

Knee-length dress $48

Casale top $33.97

Read the care labels of almost anything today, and the fabric is a chemist's cupboard of ingredients whipped into amazing replications of cashmere, silk or wool. Even the dreaded rayon seems to have been replaced by another, improved, rayon. And much of all this is sprinkled with a dusting of Spandex for good measure.

While the plethora of pleather (couldn't help myself) hasn't entirely lifted the fashion malaise I'm feeling, I'm curious and willing to try. I better order that Casale top on final clearance before they're all gone. 

Quiet Luxury Bores Me to Tears

"Quiet Luxury" is Fashion's latest buzz-word. This laid-back ode to neutrals, simple shapes and luxury fabrics harks to a time when simplicity ruled. These were the days of Donna Karan, Calvin Klein, Giorgio Armani and Helmut Lang in their prime and at their best. 

No surprise. Pared down looks often follow a period of over-the-top styles, be it the broad shoulders, sharp edges and brilliant jewel tones of the '80s or the silly-frilly "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" frocks of recent summers.  

Luxury should be rare and/or look expensive—precious metals and jewels, exotic furs (once upon a time), hard-to-get (or hard to work with) fabrics, hand-sewn details. You should be able to see and feel what you've paid for.

Quiet Luxury is all that, but it whispers. Colors are soft and often neutral—camel, gray, beige, ecru. If there's color it's muted. Fabrics are soft too—jersey, cashmere, fine wool, silk—and the shapes less structured. One brand, Bruno Cuchinelli, has been doing this for a while. It's quiet luxury and not in any sense sense affordable. This cashmere sweater is $3,000.  

One harbinger of the Quiet Luxury trend was the tv series "Succession" in Sarah Snook's character of Shiv Roy, who succeeds (or did she?). It may be an offshoot of last year's Coastal Grandma, retooled for any age or coast.

Sarah as Shiv in "Succession"

The problem with Quiet Luxury is it can be replicated down market. Today's fabric blends easily imitate cashmere and silk. Practically no one works with 100% wool anymore, even the so-called luxury brands.  

And therein lies the problem. Quiet Luxury is everywhere—on the high street in Britain or the mall here in the U.S. It's no longer the mark of a trust fund, executive position or sugar daddy. Anyone can afford it. What's more all that gray, ecru, taupe and camel is boring, boring, boring.

I predict Quiet Luxury won't be around for long. But if you insist (and I understand that for some it's a welcome return to sanity) I can suggest the way

TO SHOP FOR IT: 

> Everything should function. Avoid anything with purely decorative effects—fake pockets, extra trims, zippers for the heck of it. 

> Think of color in candlelight. Neutrals show off this look best but you can add color. Like the cinnamon sweater above, colors are softer, toned down, as if you were in a room lit with candles.

> Avoid prints. Woven tweeds or plaids or stripes as part of a weave are fine. Avoid anything but the most subtle of prints (a woven paisley perhaps).

> Feel the fabric. Even though today's blends can be amazing, it doesn't mean they all are. Is it soft to the touch? Does it hang well? How do you take care of it? Are you willing to baby it with hand washing or dry cleaning? If you don't follow care instructions you may live to regret.

TO WEAR IT:

> Less is more. Chanel was famous for saying to take off the last thing you put on, but then she liked to wear a lot of accessories. Quiet luxury should be telling you fuggedaboutit. Don't even think about layering necklaces and bracelets. Take off your earrings if you dare. One golden or silvery bangle. It doesn't even have to be real.

> Tone down your makeup. It should whisper as well. If you like a red lip, keep it, but go easy on eye makeup. Throw away your hairspray.

> Oh and carry a big stick. You know what they say about speaking softly. 

What's "On 34th?"

Macy's flagship store in Manhattan is on 34th Street between 6th and 7th avenues. There are 503 others across the country since Macy's has been gobbling up ailing department stores and rebranding them as their own. Suffice to say there's probably "a Macy's near you". 

There's one near me too, in the Houston Galleria. I always park near the Macy's entrance and loop through the main floor just to see what's on offer. It's usually middle-of-the-road and not very exciting. There's Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, Vince Camuto, Anne Klein, DKNY, Calvin Klein, Michael Kors, etc. These are not high-end offerings from the familiar names, just what the average woman might like.

Macy's has had and continues to have "private brands". Once the I.N.C. line was trendy and fun, now it's tatty and cheesy. Others are Alfani, Bar III and Charter Club. Not impressed. But rounding the corner I saw a new "shop", On 34th. Right away I was transported to Herald Square (the slice of concrete on 34th Street facing Macy's). So, how was Macy's channeling their famous location for the rest of America? Reminding customers that Macy's is a shopping behemoth and has been around for ages at its iconic address is a very smart move indeed.

Basic basics, yes

The offering are Basics, capital B intentional, but I was happy to find they were basics I understand, like a $49.50 leopard midi skirt (my kind of basic). There was nothing tricked out about the displays, just racks with some vague kind of story to tell. A 100% cotton striped boat-neck tee with wide 3/4 sleeves was $39.50 and available in many color combos. The most fashion forward item (and highest price I noticed) was a heavyweight polka dot trench coat. 

$39.50 tee with style

$150 rain worthy trench

In this day and age of escalating clothing prices it's pretty refreshing to see this much quality at, shall I say, reasonable pricing. The fabric and composition is good. Things look well made with no (thank goodness) extraneous trims and gew-gaws. Plenty of offerings in plus-size too. I didn't see any petites.

$59.50 rugby mini—impressive

This has just hit the stores and maybe a little early in Houston as I did read about an August 17 launch date.

The only thing lacking might be a real focus. Who is this line for??? I think I figured that out too: everyone.

2023: The Summer of Jackie

You could do worse than make Jackie Kennedy Onassis your Summer of 2023 Fashion Muse. She was always appropriately dressed with understated flair, but it's amazing how many of her looks are so right this year.

From my vantage point a lot of the fashions we see in magazines and on the red carpet are unwearable fantasies—fun to look at perhaps but totally impractical. Some trends do seem to be emerging as a mix of what the stores are offering and what is already in our closets. 

If many of us are buying less these days it's a combination of decent clothes becoming so expensive, understanding fast fashion is bad for the environment and those who make it and less formality in dress overall.  

Jackie's style was always a subtle nod to east coast Preppy, understated Boho or refined Ladylike. No logos on the Preppy, no far-out shapes on the Boho, no extraneous gewgaws on the Ladylike. For sure you can't go wrong with:

Preppy: The black t-shirt and white jeans with supporting players— sandals, tote bag, big sunglasses and head scarf. Leave off the scarf if you like. Make the pants skinny, wide legs, boot cut or flared. Choose the style that fits you best. 

Boho: Black top tucked into a midi skirt with a ruffle, worn with a wide belt, sandals, tote and sunglasses. Here's where the skirt has to flatter you too—maybe not so full or no ruffle. Try a wrap or an A-line. This one has buttons for more swoosh. Although I have a full collection of belts I've avoided wearing them since I lost my 24" waist. I should snap out of it.

Boho with Preppy: The button down shirt with a colorful summer skirt is a classic. Yes, it's a hat or a hairdo, but the straw hat acts as the third piece to make this an outfit. Subtle, but notice how the shirt blends but doesn't match any of the colors in the skirt.

Preppy and Boho: The colors make the difference. You couldn't get any preppier than red and blue unless it was red, white and blue. The oddball mustard-colored pants make the same shapes Boho.

Preppy with Ladylike: Jackie showcased oversized gingham in the early '60s. She took an American staple thought of as folksy and made it cool. There really hasn't been a summer when gingham something wasn't a perfect choice. Okay, you think you want sleeves. Will you accept a cap sleeve or drop shoulder? They are not impossible to find.

Ladylike: Obviously the white gloves are off the table, as is the matching bag and shoes. White shoes themselves have become "bone" or "neutral", but you can't go wrong with a simple silhouette. 

When she visited India as First Lady in 1962 Jackie went to great lengths planning her clothes to reflect and honor her destination. She didn't go for a wardrobe of saris, which might have been interpreted as cultural misappropriation (if we had thought in those terms). Instead she adapted the current silhouettes (which she also inspired) with fabrics and colors that would play well throughout her trip. Shouldn't you always think about where you're going when you plan a vacation?

 

 

 

Women We Love: Dame Edna

Or shall I say "the late Dame Edna"? Word has come that Dame Edna Everage passed away at age 89. Virginia Graham, Patricia Routledge as Hyacinth Bucket and Dame Edna have always been my favorite "women so far-out they can't possibly be women". And one was not.

Dame Edna barely admitted to being Barry Humphries, the Australian comedian who created her in the 1950s. Or was it the other way around? At her death, Dame Edna's estate released an obituary of Barry Humphries that all us possums (as she liked to call her adoring subjects) will enjoy:

Drag goes back in my memory, from crazy Uncle Miltie clomping in heels across 1950s television to the fun of seeing Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon dolled up as flappers (albeit to escape Chicago gangsters) in 1959's "Some Like it Hot". Of course some of form of drag has been around for ages, and this post is not about drag history. What's clear is drag is now celebrated and enjoyed in popular culture as never before. And like everything fun, from Elvis to deep-fried Twinkies, there are those who say it's bad for you.

She charmed everyone...

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing a local production of "The Legend of Georgia McBride". Georgia is the drag persona of an affable, straight young man whose not just bad but terrible Elvis impersonation is getting him nowhere. Through plot twists only a playwright could concoct he is forced to replace a drag performer doing Edith Piaf and ends up, after a lot of determined hard work, creating the beloved Georgia McBride (with a little Elvis thrown in).

Georgia and Company

As could be expected, it's a fun show with many laughs and over-the-top routines. There are heartfelt revelations as the two long-time drag performers tell us how much drag means to them. Our hero struggles with why he avoids telling his wife what he's really doing and questions should he even be doing it. I couldn't help thinking this is a play for our time. 

Unlike Ru Paul who seamlessly morphs from Ru Paul to RU PAUL, I never thought of Dame Edna as anything but a delightful, eccentric grande dame, someone I would love to be if I dared and had lost all sense of dressing tastefully. Barry never entered my mind.

Barry as Barry and Dame Edna as herself

Stylish Read: "Anna" by Amy Odell

If you think of Anna as the devil in "The Devil Wears Prada", Amy Odell's biography won't change your mind. If you've always given Anna Wintour benefit of the doubt—how could anyone be that self-centered and self-serving?—you may still. 

Amy Odell's tone is mostly reportorial, using positive quotes from co-workers, acquaintances and—yes—a few friends. So Anna likes dogs and tennis and can joke around? That doesn't a person make, and the facts pretty much speak for themselves.

Anna I as I think of her—very alone

I waited quite a while for my library hold to come up, and there were only five people before me. Some reader or readers had it for a very long time, and I think I know why. It's a bit of a slog. 

Though I knew a little about many of those mentioned, I still found myself Googling and going down tangential rabbit holes, slowing the reading even more. The author also makes no bones about using published sources, so if you've read your Tina Brown, Graces Mirabella and Coddington, Andre Leon Talley, etc., you will find them quoted here.

Hers was not a straight path to the top, now Global Chief Content Officer of Condé Nast, a position that didn't exist before Anna. Her ambition was always to be Editor of Vogue and she never hid that from anyone. During a job interview with Grace Mirabella (thenVogue's Editor), when asked what position she would like, said, "I want your job."

Looking uncharacteristically vulnerable

Anna is both hard to root for and hard to root against. Her determination and work ethic are admirable. No one has ever accused her of slacking, only a little shirking (getting others to do what she didn't want to). Her ideas of reporting fashion and style were often ahead of their time. Her armor-plating kept her from backing down from her beliefs. What she lacks (at least in public) is a sense of humor, the saving grace of someone like Martha Stewart or even Elon Musk, who can laugh at themselves while still forging ahead.

I've worked for people I liked and respected (the best), and I've worked for people I respected but didn't particulary like (a few). I've also worked for some I did not like and did not respect (that never lasted long). I've never worked for someone I was afraid of, and that would seem to be many of Anna's hires. No doubt this is no fault of her own as Anna's reputation always precedes her. 

"Anna" is also a sober commentary on the state of print publishing today. It's not my imagination that since 2012 magazines have gotten thinner and less frequent. The question is, are they also less relevant?With her continued influence across platforms of fashion, media and culture, that's clearly not a question to ask of Anna Wintour.

Would You if You Could?

The other day at the Lovely Little Boutique Where I Work (which in fact sells moderately-priced casual clothing to a mostly mature customer) a client spent close to $2,000 buying two of everything she picked out.

Not that one should ever assume, but coming into the store she didn't exactly look like someone who would have duplicate closets. Not dripping with diamonds, no chauffeured limo waiting at the curb, she was lovely and undemanding. At first I thought she must have a twin and they still dressed alike. No, she has two homes in different states and likes to travel light.

I've been thinking about this. Not only was that not an everyday occurrence, it was later followed by a customer who rudely declared she wanted no help and proceeded to tear up the place looking for some pants I could have found for her in ten seconds. 

That's a whole other retail rant. Why do some customers (and this is only the rare few) treat sales associates like lesser beings? Many of us have either been at our gigs for eons and know more what you're looking for than you do. The newbies may have been head of nursing at a prestigious hospital or a federal judge (among two of my recently retired co-workers). Like I said, one should never assume.

But would you, if you could, buy two of everything? Would it be worth packing a suitcase to have more variety? Or is it better to have a smaller wardrobe with less hassle? I know where I would land. If I could travel with a stand-up walk-in trunk, I would. It's that hard to decide what to pack because how will I know what I want to wear? What mood will I be in? What will I be doing? Where will I be going? When forced to I traveled carry-on for a ten-day European trip and forgot to be bored with my limited wardrobe, but that's not a scenario I relish. And if I had homes in two very different places, wouldn't my clothing choices be different too? 

I will, of course, never know the answer because the two homes I've had were never at the same time.

But would you, if you could???