When "stylists" are not, and exceptions
Over the summer, I broke my media fast for a few weeks, and dipped into a specific niche on social media: the influencer/stylist. It was, as my original stylist, Mom, would say, "a riot."
In a rash of click-promiscuity, I looked at anyone my algorithm delivered. I will not name them, but you couldn't swing a cat without hitting some woman posing on her deck in her idea of what looks good on her (and therefore, she insists, on everyone.)
My binge lasted long enough for me to reach three conclusions: I cannot spend another moment of my limited lifespan on this; dozens of soi-disant stylists' reels have not sparked interest in one trendy thing; and, at least 80% of the suggestions affect the stylist's compensation—in other words, they are shills.
Exceptions
Photo: theplatinumage on Instagram |
Except, theplatinumage! Hop on that and admire makeovers (or more realistically, makeunders) of mature Japanese men and women who looked just fine before but with that slight tweak (always hair, sometimes clothes), they absolutely shine. Some pearls slide into the 'fits, too. Just a delight and a terrific guideline for what to expect from our stylists.
Photo: What People Are Wearing by Linoya on Instagram |
Except, originals. Now and then I see someone so inherently creative, chic, or magnetic that I bow before their distinct persona, from a pristinely strict Dutch woman to a salty Californian with a fondness for accessories emblazoned with a blunt term for female anatomy. I scan Instagram accounts like "What People Are Wearing" by Linoya, who took the photo of the Moroccan man above, because, from Budapest to Bombay, the cultural influences are a hundred times more captivating than strenuously-styled influencers wearing ubiquitous clothes.
Photo: Corset by Redthreaded on Instagram |
And, the exception of speciality garments for those pressed to find clothes for their bodies, be they adaptive clothing, hard-to-find sizes, or gender non-conformity. There are also fascinating sites for persons looking for specialties such as historic corsetry or antique pieces.
The result of that endless stream of images has been to return to my uniforms. There's a world of garments that are not in my life anymore: suits, evening wear, and nearly everything that's dry clean only.
I occasionally look at the modern masters who carry the flame of impeccable tailoring, but it's much more fun to see it worn on the street, in the hands of a real person.
Photo: Simbarashe Cha for The New York Times |
The challenge now is to find what I like at a price I want to pay. For example, Apesi's Italian silk-and-viscose panne velvet jacket, so perfect I want to weep, is $900, plus shipping and duties.
Photo: Apesi |
Apesi gets copied by—you guessed it—fast fashion houses like Zara, but cheapie velvet is a forlorn fabric, too shiny and one-dimensional. Here's the Australian-based Belle & Bloom's Eternity polyester blazer, on sale for $143, but would deliver even a pinch of the sensuous thrill of the Apesi version?
Photo: Belle & Bloom |
I need Mr. Buffet, now. He has time for us next Tuesday, and this is my question for him: "Can you get a cheaper version of a high-end item and be happy?"
Comments
Laura J: I never figured out how much attitude counts, but it has to be at least... half?