May 31, 2006
I tried on this beauteous creation last week, so taken with the garment I immediately slipped it on, completely captivated by the unusual cut and shape. To my dismay, I looked like a turtle. The shopgirl informed me that Maria Cornejo's shapes are of a more voluminous nature, to which I nodded my head in agreement, but when I saw that the size was a six, I breathed a sigh of relief in the possibility that perhaps Zero can do volume nicely for the petite.
I was more intrigued when the shopgirl told me she had met Maria and said she was small too, and a very nice person to boot. Not only that, she is environmentally conscious as well, apparently using sustainable fabrics – probably in the form of organic cottons, etc. Bravo! I have seen Maria's garments around, but in person they are quite something. They seem crafted with the utmost care, are understated and minimal but somehow are also quietly ornate.
Case in point: the oyster jacket in a stretch slub cotton. (Even the name is wonderful, the word "oyster" conjures up images of organic beauty). But darnit, only a store many miles a way has my size…I think I need to visit her new boutique in the West Village.
May 31, 2006
It is a certain grace. My taste in style icons generally gravitates towards sprite-like creatures (with a mysterious side) like Jean Seberg. I love the charm of close cropped hair on the irresistably cute. I thought I was solo in my taste, however a fashion glossy this past month claimed that Edie Sedgwick would be "out" by the end of the summer to be replaced by cute Jean for the autumn.
I was somewhat crestfallen that this lovely pixie (who to me will always be Patricia Franchini, and has been a personal style icon for me since the age of thirteen) and her style may be coopted by Hollywood starlets and filter onto the streets. Will the masses appreciate her for things beyond the superficial? Will they know about her turbulent life and times and acknowledge her role as an activist? I guess since a biopic starring Kirsten Dunst is in the works, they will.
May 30, 2006
I was asked recently how many pairs of shoes I own. I could not arrive at a figure because I have never kept track. They keep accumulating, the way some people always stock up on particular household goods and groceries. They dot the landscape of my house, they hide everywhere – so I thought it a good idea to round them up for a yearly (or bi-yearly depending on how diligently I’ve been “stocking up”) family photograph, just to document how we’ve been growing together. We have been getting on famously, but I do not covet them, nor put them on a pedestal, treating them like works of art.
First and foremost they protect the foot and should carry the body with the utmost respect. Footwear is the most important part of a person’s wardrobe; not for the typical fashion reasons, but because they determine one’s posture, one’s gait, and will act as the proverbial apple a day for keeping the podiatrist ( and bad posture) away.
I cannot leave the house in shoes that I know will cause discomfort. I have nurtured a great relationship with my cobbler, we share an understanding of the importance of good shoes and that taking care of them is in fact, taking care of yourself.
Nevertheless, the challenge is always to find the perfect marriage of comfort and beauty. I think in most cases I have managed to find it, and if not, they will simply sit at home to be admired, but not worn out on long walks about town.
May 30, 2006
Once in a while, you come across an individual who carry themselves with exceptional confidence and grace – every garment seems to be worn because they truly love them, and you imagine that they would look the very same even if they lived solo on a deserted island.
This woman on hel looks is one such individual. Additionally, I concur with her comment on her style and relationship to clothing:
“My style is a bit crazy, berlin-like. I’ve got a brand new haircut from Berlin. I like small details like this giraffe brooch. My clothes need to be comfortable. I like clothes with a history of their own. That’s why I often wear clothes that used to belong to my mother, like this shirt. But I try not to become too attached to my clothes. They are just clothes after all.”