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EDITORIAL: Curiouser And Curiouser
MAGAZINE: Vogue UK (Feb 2007)
PHOTOGRAPHER: Tim Walker
MODEL: Coco Rocha
The above is my favourite Alexander McQueen dress of all time, worn by my favourite model, in one of my favourite Vogue editorials (named after a line from one of my favourite books), photographed by one of my favourite photographers. So... it's pretty damn epic.
Here's the gown's original debut on
Alexander McQueen's Spring 2007 runway:
It reminds me of a goddess of sorts, rising from the fluffy clouds,
like some Venus on a half shell. Peter Ustinov once said that if
Botticelli were alive today, he'd be working for Vogue.
And here are a few other amazing pictures from the editorial:
THE ENTIRE EDITORIAL:
{Click on thumbnails to enlarge.}
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On a random, entirely unrelated note, I just watched the Beverly Hills 90210 theme song from the original series in the 90s, and marvelled at how I used to think these characters were the best dressed humans to grace the good earth. Once upon a time, long before I looked to Jane Birkin, Françoise Hardy and Audrey Hepburn for hair inspiration, the holy trinity consisted of Daphne from Scooby Doo, Ariel the Little Mermaid and Brenda Walsh of Beverly Hills 90210 - my paragons of good hair (I was very, very young at this time, as you might have gathered). Because of this, I think I've always carried a soft spot for Shannen Doherty, regardless of her professional or tabloid failings. She was Brenda bloody Walsh! There was an era, long, long ago, in a distant land, far, far away, when I wanted to BE Brenda Walsh and date Dylan McKay. How embarrassing. Anyway...
Even now, I still catch myself punching the air twice at the beginning, when Jason Priestley does it. How catchy is that theme song? How bad are those clothes? Which brings me back to my original point. Upon observing just how dreadful the wardrobe choices were, and remembering exactly how they looked through my 1990s-coloured glasses (Brilliant! Stylish! Amazing! En pointe!), it doesn't make me question my past fashion sense as much as it makes me consider how much taste is subconsciously shaped by popular culture, even when we don't actively seek to imitate. I didn't like those 90210 duds because they were trendy; I was probably too young to even understand what trends meant. In all honesty, my young mind believed that those clothes were fetching, and even flattering to the figure (I now see that in most cases, I was mistaken). But of course, it's all subjective. What I consider flattering to the figure now might very well change in a decade's time, not just because fashion changes, but because popular opinion about a woman's figure and what should be concealed and emphasised will also evolve. Few of us make the conscious shift of personal opinion to mirror the popular one, but even the most rebellious of us eventually do, and will come to sit at their blogs like I am right now, wondering when and how the hell it happened - half feeling grateful it did, and half like a brainwashed bot, swept away (or drowned under) a riptide of change with little choice in the matter... because it all seemed to happen like we were Rip Van Winkle, suddenly awakening in a new era after a deep night's sleep, when it was really a hundred years. Or a decade.
People speak of 'objective beauty' or of being 'objectively stylish', but how can either of those things exist, unless governed by the zeitgeist of a particular era? I remember when amazonian bombshells were all the rage when I was growing up - Cindy Crawford, Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell and anyone who was ever in a cheesy Guess ad, with their face splashed across the paper bags. Then, the time for models was over, and the profession was reduced to little more than a line of obscure, walking clothes hangers, validated only by a handful of die-hard fashion fanatics (perhaps am guilty as charged). Now, we live in an era of Jessica Albas, Jessica Biels, Scarlett Johanssons, Rihannas and Megan Foxes. THE CURRENT IDEAL: 5'5" to 5'8" in height, a pretty face with a modicum of sex appeal, a toned figure but not too muscular, very very slim, yet miraculously possessed of sizable breasts, and a pert butt achievable only with the aid of a personal trainer and/or an unholy workout regime. What is judged 'flattering' to a woman by way of their garments is usually measured by the clothing's ability to transport the woman closer to the 'ideal' of that era, whether it's a Hervé Léger dress that gives the impression of impressive mammaries, maxi skirts that conceal wobbly thighs that haven't seen the light of a gym, 5-inch Givenchy heels that propel a petite girl into the ideal height range and saves her trousers from grazing the floor, Lanvin flats for the tall girl who exceeds the ideal height and risks appearing mannish or a giant, slimming colours for the obese, loosely figure-skimming blouses for the excessively thin and bony, etc.
Sometimes, I look at a few of the more classic fashion designs from the current decade (say, bits and bobs from Chanel, Lanvin or Burberry Prorsum, as opposed to something trendy that dropped from Balmain), and find it nearly impossible to imagine how they could be cast in an embarrassing light... say, 20 years from now. But the 'ideal woman' will have changed, and so clothing will aspire to transform its wearer into something quite different from what is ideal now. Perhaps that will render unappealing what we currently find attractive about certain garments, more so than any other factor, and through no fault of the design.
