Annoying Fashion People
One of the most annoying things about the world is all of these Other People who are in it! It was either Jean-Paul Sartre or Archie Bunker who said “L’enfer, c’est les autres.” Never is this statement more valid than when it’s being applied to the fashion world. Name another industry where one person’s creation is purchased by some, reviled by others, worshiped by still others and eventually becomes a dated object of cultural ridicule. With the exception of the Saved by the Bell industry, you simply can’t.
What makes fashion people so annoying? Is it boredom? Is their shitty attitude merely the expression of an aspiration towards a higher level of aesthetic standards for us all? Or do they have a need to judge others based on superficial criteria, thereby increasing their own sense of importance? The answer is all of the above, but mostly the last one. Liking clothes and style can be all well and good but, as ever, there are people out there who take it too far and make you wanna throw up your hands, never look at a magazine again and wear your 'œI Got Verklempt at Leigh’s Bat Mitzvah' t shirt with the giant coffee cup on it (90s!) cargo pants and mukluks and just forget the whole thing. Here are they.
Chloe Sevigny
Yes, she does sometimes have and demonstrate an interesting sense style. Occasionally she will wear an outfit and you will say, to yourself or to a friend, 'œThat is an interesting outfit! I would not have thought that x and y item worn thusly at the same time would be to positive effect but it is. Huh.' But that’s it. Why is she tapped as some sort of ethereal style goddess? Dynasty children from Connecticut with no real job and plenty of disposable income damn well better have some hot finds from off-the beaten path thrift stores, otherwise what the hell do you do all day and what am I supposed to aspire to?
These videos are super-fun, btw.
Andre Leon Talley
Yes, he is amusing. Here is a man who plays up every possible gay-fashion stereotype and shamelessly. Yet somehow, a la fois, is able to make you feel like a clueless, back country hick for not owning any of Rodarte S/S 2010. He is also a man who in the movie Valentino: The Last Emperor, upon viewing Valentino’s final collection is heard to cry: 'œIt’s a triumph! A triumph of the will!' Uh, no. That was this.
Clint and Stacy of 'œWhat Not To Wear'?
For the uninitiated: this is a show wherein decent, unassuming people who have ostensibly neither burned anyone with a cattle brander nor run over a group of museum-bound schoolchildren with a tractor, are publicly humiliated at the behest of their 'œfriends' who have decided that their style is so untenable they must be shamed out of it on national television by two human-shaped piles of Max Factor makeup known as 'œClint' and 'œStacy'. Under their cackling, repulsive tutelage, the bewildered recipient of their attentions is forced to throw out every single piece of clothing that they own, regardless of sentimental value or comfort, and submit to a Draconian fashion dictum in which their personal preferences are shunted aside in favor of looks that would be more pleasing to Clint and Stacy. It’s gross.
The Tavi Haters
We all know fashion people are insecure but it takes a special kind of asshole to shit all over the enthusiastic accomplishments of a child. Editor after editor has found something cutting or nasty to say about the blogosphere’s best known 'œfashion prodigy', (whatever meaning that term may hold) but it really just sounds like sour grapes. I could see feeling slightly threatened by her if, while I were mired in my rigorous, pouty-cigarette-smoking curriculum at Parsons School of Design, an eleven year old girl on her family’s shitty Dell in the Chicago suburbs was having insights about color and shape far more trenchant than any that had yet occurred to me, AND getting flown all over the world to have brunch with Rei Kawakubo and shoot squab with Karl Lagerfeld into the bargain. But, I’d hope I could at least feign support for a smart kid who will probably be controlling my job in a few years.