It is with great excitement that I am able report that I finally discovered the magic of Uniqlo this weekend. A huge contender to Gap – which at one time was my all-time fave store in the UK for couch-surfing gear – Uniqlo offers great quality clothing at super-affordable pricing. So check it out!
This is me in my new dog-walking outfit of sexy sleeveless puffa jacket and camel-toe jeggings.
Fashions seems to be in a bit of a pickle at the moment with its latest offering of the barely-there dress, usually barely encasing middle-aged bodies.
I’ve always taken a revolutionary stand on fashion and welcomed the more extreme style offered by Haute Couture, but I’m not so keen on the whole mutton-dressed-as-hooker look.
There are some truly unconventional designers who can create breath-taking fashion without the need to cut and paste the skimpiest morsels of fabric and crystals over women’s bits.
Which leads me conveniently to this little post, which I’ve sat on like an impatient hen since my trip to Europe, but have finally decided to share, even if you are bored off your faces by my recent lavish exploits a l’etranger.
Imagine the scene, if you will – you’re walking down the Champs Elysees like the tourist-nobody that you are, looking like you’re minding your own business but secretly feeling completely blown away by the fact that you’re walking down the fucking Champs Elysees, when you stumble across a Jean Paul Gaultier exhibition, right there, in front of you at the Grand Palais.,
And, well you know what a fashionista I pretend to be…
Having been one of those easily-influenced, slave-to-fashion, twenty-somethings saddos of the eighties and early nineties, I always had a bit of a penchant for the madness and enfant terrible image of Jean Paul Gaultier; in particular for his hyper-focus on certain longstanding elements of fashion that I am still partial to, like his mariner stripes, punk influenced fashion and fetish for animal print.
But even I had forgotten about some of the great man’s more radical and iconic designs, that continue to be recycled, decade after decade.
The freakiest part of the exhibition – and you’ll have to imagine this from my poor description alone, (because although I snuck some photos, even I didn’t have the balls to get the whole video-thing going, especially when I still can’t work out how to do it properly on my Iphone without my kids around) – was that somehow the exhibition designers had streamed living faces onto the faces of the mannequins and so they talked to you as you passed in front of them – including the mannequin of the great man himself.
It was clever, but seriously disturbing.
Nevertheless, I have to admit that I still felt pretty culturally superior as I moved through the exhibition in my op shop $20 black raincoat, Supre jeggings and Witner boots, although many of my fellow fashionistas embraced Jean-Paul’s influence far more overtly than me.
These were the boots of the guy stood in front of me in the queue.
It was interesting to watch the story behind Gaultier’s affiliation with Madonna and his creation of the cone bra, and to watch that video of her appearance on his catwalk with her boobs out in their full, dense glory.
(Not much has changed there, then.)
Whatever you think about her voice and the way she promotes herself so unashamedly these days, Madonna always did have great boobs.
Not sure I would choose a Gaultier wedding dress even if I had the money, but I reckon a bit of cone corsetry might even turn the old man’s head after all these years.