OUR resident fashionista took leave for New York so I had the job of filling in her Style Council column this week. The task was to scribe some advice on what to wear to work and rant over model Agyness Deyn.
The rant follows below:
SUPERMODEL Agyness Deyn has become fashion’s hottest twiglet on the catwalk and SC is getting pretty bored of the whole thing. She’s been fetishised on the fashion pages of every international style bible as an irrestible rags to riches maverick woman that’s swopped working in a Lancashire chip shop serving up chip butties and saveloys for the restof life in lieu of a career stomping catwalks of the world.
Granted, the fact that her determinedly tomboyish-looks have generated so much hype in an industry obsessed with an homogenous code on what it means to be feminine and sexy is to be commended.
But you can’t open a magazine without being greeted with that gangly frame, unkempt ragamuffin platinum crop and eighties day-glo clobber she cobbles together in a seemingly thrown-together fashion that’s become her signature style.
She’s the face of this, the body of that and meant to embody the spirit of pretty much everything else.
SC senses a situation of over-kill coming on.
The good news is that fashion is fickle so let’s hope that this is a trend isn’t one that lasts.
Postscript: Having said all of that, I've purposely chosen one of the hottest shots of her foraged off the web for the purposes of this blog. Hey, if you're going to add to the over-kill, you may as well enjoy it. So do.
0 comments:
Post a Comment