Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

Don't it always seem to go...

I wouldn't like to imply by my title, that I thought Lee 'Alexander' McQueen was shamefully underrated in his lifetime: he was quite rightly vaunted and fĂȘted as a bright and fabulous talent.  I'm just a bit sad that it's taken a tragic and premature death for me to come out of the closet and pin my colours fully to the mast: My name is Charlotte and I love high fashion.  I love designers.  I'd give much to go to the shows.  I buy Vogue.

I'd like, in this post, to talk you through my highlights in one collection, in the hope that it will explain why I feel this way.  I warn you now, though, there's going to be a whole lot of florid language... it's going to get pretentious. 


Today, at Paris fashion week, the Alexander McQueen Autumn Winter collection ('All Angels and Demons') had its show. And it was glorious.  (I understand, by the way, that the label will continue - but this collection is unquestionably McQueen's own creation, and as such it's of course the last true McQueen one there will be).  Despite being nominally 'Ready-to-Wear', the shows in Milan, London, and Paris aren't really about creating outfits many of us would want to wear to work or parties.  When inventive catwalk fashion is taken out of its milieu, it often looks alien and undesirable. Hence Gwynneth Paltrow's gothic, string-vest ballgown at the 2002 Oscars (also by McQueen) looked unflattering, harsh and inappropriate.  But the shows offer me two things here on my grotty sofa in South London. In part they are the delivery of aesthetic concepts.  It's like a collision of art and theatre... textures, colours and shapes - given movement and personification.  Secondly, they point the fashion industry, and also me, in a new sartorial direction.  It makes me think about adding this accent or that flavour to my style.  It's inspiring.



The two short dresses I've selected (above and top) have loads of gorgeous elements that can, and I hope will, filter through to the high street this autumn.  Immediately obvious are those gorgeous theatrical reds and the heavy brocades the colour of old gold-leaf.  But look at the shapes. I bet we'll see that belted kimono (top) influencing jackets and cardigans as well as dresses of all lengths.  No buttons, cinched with a belt, bell sleeves (perhaps somewhat toned down for 'real life'), - It's flattering and wearable by women of all ages, and it's a new direction, although importantly for our sense of continuity, it still has an echo of where we've been (the belt cinching in voluminous heavyweight fabric has been big in coats and jumper dresses for a while).  The second frock also has a taste of the familiar: it doesn't take a fashionista to see the silhouette similarities with the tulip skirt.  But it's the new ideas that are exciting.  That effect of the top 'layer' looking as if it's been pulled to meet at the waist and then falling back like a curtain at a window to reveal the contrasting base fabric, that's an idea McQueen has used several times in the collection, and it has potential to make its way onto the high street in quite a direct way even if it's just a general trend to focus attention on the waist through diagonals, that's good news: this look even creates the illusion of a waist from scratch if you're boyish of figure.  The sleeves too, are beautifully excessive - so many folds and pleats, it screams sensuous opulence but with delicate, girlish proportions.  And wouldn't those of us with large upper arms welcome something so generous of cut and, well, spirit, that it'd make our own dimensions look mean in comparison?



Of course, as I said, some of it's about the artistry.  Fashion design - design in general - is the less-respected step-cousin of fine art, and I guess that's because of the bed it shares with commerce.  It's certainly not unfair to suggest that an artist might produce work which more purely represents their vision if they don't have to deliver several pieces of it to a preordained schedule twice a year, every year.  Art too, is free from  constraints of utility:  it does not have to withstand being worn and walked about in, and while fashion designers have pushed the envelope of avant garde, at the end of the day they are creating coverings for the human body.  It isn't then, pure artistic expression - but art, I would argue, it is.  The dress and mantle above inspire an emotional reaction in me that happens outside of my evaluation of them as clothing.  That heavy crust of gold towards the bottom makes me think of life and decay and glory. The quality of it is at once industrial and organic and I want to get close to it and see it in detail but for some reason I don't want to touch it and find it too essentially 'real'.  I'm experiencing it in the same way I might a painting, although admittedly not so deeply as, say, a Rothko. To someone else looking at the same frock, there might be no reaction at all (isn't that true of all art?) but to me - this speaks.


But ultimately, this is a style blog, and my passion is for clothes and the wearing of them. This jacket is by far my favourite piece in the collection. The shape is Old Hollywood - elegant, poised, dramatic - the face is literally framed.  The texture is my favourite part, though - and sadly I can't imagine that making its way to mass production with any success.  It's brittle and detailed like a delicate clockwork model, but at the same time reminds me of a viking feather cloak: tribal and animalistic -  it gives an overall impression of such strength. Over that skirt it puts a new spin on the fishtail gown - the look of a grown-up mermaid.  I'd love to see it on a bride.


Tuesday, 17 March 2009

I've been a little distracted...




...because I got engaged!

And with only five months to the wedding I've been enjoying working myself up to a fever pitch looking at dresses online. I won't be giving you the blow-by-blow on SSS, because most of you aren't needing that advice, but you can expect regular (if non-specific) updates. I've decided to have something made, so if any of you know a confident, competent, lovely and reliable dressmaker (as opposed to a couturier, since I already have a pattern) - please let me know! I need to speak to her (or him) and find out how long it will take to make, so that we can count backwards from mid-August and I know how long I've got to try and shrink myself.

I can't show you the pattern - or the dress, but I will detail the search for something flattering; the sleeve-or-not dilemma; the underwear missions; and of course, the search for the perfect shoes.

And in between times, it should be business as usual: keep your shopping dilemmas coming in, and I'll do my best, along with keeping an eye out for the good and bad being made and sold for us to wear.

Not quite the look I'm going for!

Friday, 16 January 2009

Allow me to share...


... the meaning behind the name. (no shopping in this one, but I warn you now - it's a 'happysad' story.)

Swelegant Style Shopping's name comes (for those unacquainted) from the song "What a Swell Party" from the musical 'High Society'. The song was immortalised in the movie by Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, but I've only heard them do it a few dozen times. To me, the song belonged to my Dad - who used to sing all the time as he wended his cheerful way - and very often the opening phrase "I have heard / among this clan..." or a Bingalike "Bom bom-bom / Buh bom bom bomm".

When we knew Dad's death wasn't just inevitable, but a matter of days, we began to discuss the funeral. I guess there was a familarity in planning a party, and a focus in having something to achieve. I felt really strongly that there should be something swinging for my Dad - a Rat packer at heart (one of my fondest inherited traits) - despite my mum not being a fan. I suggested "Fly Me to the Moon", but Mum reminded me that "What a Swell Party" was his every day favourite.. That night, I was on bedside duty, and when it was clear that the remaining time was in the minutes, and I was waiting for my family to arrive, I ran out of nonsense to say to him. In the quiet on the 2am ITU ward, I softly sang that song to him.

We did play it at the funeral. It is a fabulous song, and I've decided to have a line from its chorus tattooed on my foot: "What a swell party this is" since that really sums up my lovely Dad's positive attitude to life; the trait I most of all admire him for. Were my feet bigger, I would no doubt have the sentiment written in full - because what the song says, loud and clear, is "what a swelegant, elegant party this is".

And it's not wrong.

Since October, I've written this blog to remind myself that life is swelegant. My grief has subsided a little, but strangely this blog - this displacement activity - has become one of the most enjoyable parts of my life. Life's a swelegant party indeed.

BGW 3rd January 1937 - 10th October 2008

Sunday, 2 November 2008

What to expect from Swelegant Style Shopping

So, I've started this blog for the purposes of translating some of the ridiculous hours I spend on both internet-based procrastination and planning my next clothing aquisitions, into something marginally creative.

There's also the possibility that I might be able to give some pointers to anyone who does read. I can't buy everything. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with that sad fact, but I simply don't have the money, or the body, to justifiably buy all the gorgeous stuff there is out there.

I've also come to realise that lots of my lovely friends find shopping an intimidating experience. On a website I frequent, Urban75, some forum posters have asked for help in finding outfits or items which flatter them. Lots of people can give advice on this - I'm not claiming a unique skill, but I do speak from the perspective of a great many misspent hours reasearch on the matter - and from the perspective of dressing a challenging body with an oft-complimented panache.

On which subject: let me lay myself bare (in words, at least): I'm 5ft 3" - with unfairly, disproportionately short legs. I'm currently a size 20. I have boobs that go beyond 'desireably large' into 'holy crap!' (34JJ). I have cellulite from waist to knee. I have ridiculous size 3 feet, but they're broad with perilously high insteps. On the plus side I have a small back, and I don't carry much weight on my face... but it's not much in my favour. And yet despite all this, I love shopping.

So - that's me, and that's why I'm writing.