Showing posts with label valentino. Show all posts
Showing posts with label valentino. Show all posts

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Game Theory

Lifestyle plays a key role in determining a personal style. I learned that following a move from a small barrier island in the Atlantic Ocean to the dark islet of Manhattan. Not long after, I was reminded to dress for the unexpected, to budget for surprise and maybe even invest in a good pair of shoes that can carry you comfortably from downtown haunts to uptown meetings. Let's not take ourselves too seriously here, but there is a nice metaphor: Invest in quality—be it ideas, art that you love, books you will read a second and third and fourth time, in relationships of substance—and you will be the wiser woman.

Which is why this season has been so uniquely exciting. We've seen wardrobe staples reimagined for life in 2014printed furs, opulent evening dresses, simple black pants with satin folds that mimic garden roses, and sweaters, knits, and overcoatsthat are wearable (read: sensible), chic, and refined enough to retain their good looks over the next decades. You could picture yourself in Valentino's fur for the next forty years, imagine openings and galas and performances in tandem with Aquilano e Rimondi's silhouette, and countless meetings held in the company of Alexander Wang's Balenciaga knits. 

Valentino

Aquilano e Rimondi

Balenciaga  

Simone Rocha

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Crisp Genes

Walking through the city today, my boyfriend asked, "Why is it that girls dress like guys now, and guys want to look like girls?" In front of us was a couple. He wore skintight black pants rolled at the ankle, loafers (sockless) and a tailored leather jacket. Very svelte. She wore mud-colored baggy pants, combat boots, a motorcycle jackets and printed brown and blue scarf.

He had a point. Mine was that perhaps we always want the other. We're intrigued by what isn't ours, and when we're told something is the way it is, there's a certain sect that wants it even more. By taking what is traditionally male or female and spinning it a complete 180, we succeed in sartorial domination. Perhaps.

In a move I chalk up to the balancing of sugar sweet and/or an adherence to clean lines, the white shirt is having its moment.  Here are a few looks gleamed from the interwebs and Milan's fashion week. I love the looks because they manage to keep cool and wear in a realistic way. Besides, aren't we all a little male/female?


The Sartorialist, Street Peeper

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Tangerine Dream & Sci-Fi Florals

One of the lovely truths about spring dressing is that its prescribed Fashion Week takes place in the midst of what is typically a dreary, cold fall (though that wasn't the case this year. Thank you, global warming). Time to dream of sunny backdrops and future attire.

One of the freshest hues to come off the runway for spring was the shade of burning sunset, a blush tangerine:


Ports 1961 does tailoring so well. Not only is this peach dress a phenomenal hue, but it's cut to perfection. Paired with simple red and black heels that are just as sleek, the look is minimalism at its best. 3.1 Phillip Lim has its own recipe: white, blush, and lavender silk.

Why hello, J. Crew. Nice to see you looking fantastic in the showroom. Ok, so I'm not done with my tangerine obsession but let's take a moment to ingest this gorgeous lemon skirt. Again, we're seeing a modern approach to color--it's bold but sleek. Note the yellow shoes and white purse. No black, clean hair and makeup. The second look incorporates a few of this season's trends: the peplum, the printed two piece, and gorgeous sci-fi florals.





Valentino's blushy strapless dress is another example of  the power of an intense color, one that I can't help but compare to Jil Sander's dress from spring 2011 (right). They're both perfect. I think the Valentino can appeal to an older woman, while Raf Simons' rotund cut requires a svelte, younger frame and possibly the disposition to want to pull it off. 




And alas, Peter Som's acid floral dress, replete with turquoise oxfords.