Saturday, March 31, 2007
Why don't you like me?
If my mother read my blog, I know what she'd say, "Meg, why don't you ever write about YOUR culture? All I see here is this derogatory reference to Indian boys being irritating. You know, India is very fashionable now, the girls there are very up-to-date."
(There's a lot of things I won't do, I won't wear Michael Kors, show my navel or stab myself in the fucking eye.)
"No mum," I'd sigh, "No, I've seen your very up-to-date Indian girls...and mostly, they're not fashionable. They just wear revealing brand labels, lots of make-up and have hair in varying shades of brown and yellow. They're about as up-to-date as Britney Spears' hairdon't...maybe even less so." And then I'll think about how hypocritical she is, apart from saris my mother has never worn anything by an Indian designer, Dior sure, Chanel yes, but no Gupta Mukherjee. AND her life partner is called Angus, guess how Indian he is.
She'll purse her lips and say, "Fine, I know you don't like being Indian anyway, you don't like wearing Indian clothes, or talking to Indian people, you don't even like me, do you?"
(Shit, she's right except for the bit about liking her, what shall I say?)
And then in the long suffering fashion that has been my way for years, I'll protest and say something half-hearted about Ronit Zilkha, even though he doesn't really count in my mind because he showcases at London.
But, the truth is, she's right, I've never paid any attention to designers within India because on the rare occasion I do see something, it's a trashy glittering article worthy of Bollywood and nothing else; the models actually look as if they will spin off into another dimension where they will break into an overlong cheesy song and dance in the mountains, with a hideous outfit change scheduled every 25 seconds.
However, being the forgiving and progressive thinker that I am, I decided that maybe I'd give it another chance. I started with Vineet Bahl who showcased his collection in Mumbai, and I was rewarded with this lot which I reckon my bin would turn it's nose up at if it could. Terrible colour palette? Check. Unflattering cuts? Check. Awful materials? Check. Heinous shoes? Check. Obviously, in this Vineet Bahl's mind, all these checks added up to a 'winning' collection. It doesn't matter if the models are a freaking size -2, if they look dumpy and wide, what will everyone else look like? Shit, some people should not be allowed to have dreams, they should have normal Indian parents who crush dreams and force them to become doctors.
Next up, Dev r Nil, and things weren't getting better; if Indian fashion week had a life chart, it'd be flat lining and dead at this point. I'm not even sure what they were trying to do, the sari looks dull and poorly put on for a start, while I'm pretty sure I had something like that ill-fitting butter yellow monstrosity when I was 7, and I tried to hide it everyday before school, even though it was really warm. By the third picture, I was pretty sure Dev r Nil (one person? two? whatev) was taking the piss and would own up to 1) not actually being a designer and 2) letting his colour blind daughter 'design' this collection with her Crayolas and felt-tips.
Okay, so moving onto Swapnil Shinde, who was better but still would have been better off working in an Indian sweetshop, making gulab for weddings instead of clothing for the guests. I'm still pretty bored and uninspired by what I'm seeing.
Vikram Phandis appears to have tried to make it interesting but still lacked anything special, his clothes stood out because of the different style and because the fit, materials and colours were better. I still dislike the use of heavy jewellery on catwalks and there were more than a few weak outfits.
Ashish N Soni (man, I hate collab. names like that). I think they were influenced by wallpaper. But the kind you're willing to leave up when you move into a new house.
Priyadarshini Rao
Ronit Gandhi and Rahul Khanna (model looks like a street urchin...not a Kate Moss type, more like a Dickens character).
So I'm pretty much concluding that while most of the designers appear to be out of their depth, I guess I shouldn't be too hard on them, I mean Zac Posen can still show his face at New York fashion week.
To finish off, here are some Indian and Iranian (quite rightly pointed out too, guess it was just wishful thinking on my part) designers that I can give the thumbs up to.
Sinha - Stanic
Gharani Strok chic, pretty, and not a sequin in sight
Ronit Zilkha
I might go watch a Bollywood film now, then again maybe I'll just watch Heroes instead and get my dose of Indian goodness from Dr. Mohinder Suresh. He's a bit of alright.
Labels: designers, random musings, rants
5 commentsThursday, March 29, 2007
Wincing our night away.
I went to see The Shins last night at The Forum with my BFF, Issie - who I hadn't seen in ages and ages as I am 3oo miles away at uni in Lancs, and she is busy not at uni (despite being the smartest person I know) being a part-time librarian, art volunteer, and soon landscape gardner-in-training aka a freaking overachiever. She looked like a Botticelli chick until Tuesday when she had her hair cut, and now she looks so chic that I am occasionally intimidated by her.The Shins were brilliant, as I expected them to be. See them if you get the chance, you won't be disappointed. I was also ecstatic that they weren't wearing jeans that were so skinny they'd had to lube up to fit into them.
I myself, continued to dress as inappropriately for events as I normally do, and rolled up in a dress of my favourite colour, with black ribbed over-the-knee socks and red ruched flats. The socks turned out to be a nuisance as they were forever slipping, and I eventually left them to it.
On the way home, we were thoroughly intimidated by some pervy men, I was irritated by the (middle-aged) couple who were practically having sex on the seats next to us, and we ate muffins. All in all, a good'un I'd say.
Labels: happenings, music
2 commentsTuesday, March 27, 2007
Jonesing for a better future.
The designer, the model, the...music?
Jil Sander such a change from all the layering (which I happen to be enjoying, don't get me wrong) with incredible clean, sober lines and beautiful metallic dresses; it's almost fashion for intellectuals. I heart you Raf Simons.
Autumn / Winter 07-08
Alexandra Sandor hopefully bringing an end to the reign of the 'alien' model, she's cute as a button.
The Apathist Mix 1 could be a regular feature, probably won't be, I'm goddamn lazy.
Can't get enough - The Infadels
Proofs - Mates of State
These Days - Nico
Femme Fatale - The Velvet Underground & Nico*
Fucking Boyfriend - The Bird and the Bee*
Girl and the Sea - The Presets*
Deceptagon - Le Tigre
So Much Beauty in Dirt - Modest Mouse
When We Are Cats - John Galston
Tropacalia - Beck
Modern Inventions - The Submarines
Sugar Water - Cibo Matto
The Now - Mouthful of Bees (band of attractive nerdy types, what more could you want?)
That Boy, That Girl - Hadouken! (Indie grime, possible? Who cares?)
Junior Kickstart - The Go! Team (if I had a 70's TV show, this would probably be the theme tune)
http://download.yousendit.com/B135FD79185A2928
*Brilliant albums, own them.
Labels: designers, labels, models, music
7 commentsSunday, March 25, 2007
Doin' it for the kids, yeah?
Dear Meg,
It has come to our attention that you are generally quite inept at being a successful teenager. We really thought that by now you would have mastered what life involves, however, as we see your unbrushed hair and mismatched socks, we realise you have a long way to go. Your attitude quite frankly, is appalling. Instead of being a sociable character who goes out frequently, you have turned into a recluse, shunning the company of others in favour of huddling over your laptop to watch Japanese dramas which exasperate you and make you cry, Ugly Betty and Supernatural. We believe in crying, but only when it is over something sufficiently angsty e.g. parents who don't understand you. We do however, congratulate you on watching Supernatural, as those two ass-kicking brothers are hot. Your drab wardrobe is mainly grey and navy blue with occasionally black in the form of tights. Also we have noted the absence of make-up from your life, perhaps you think that your sallow complexion and unremarkable face do not require any make-up (we do not count a Nivea Intensive Care chapstick, and face cream as make-up).
We additionally lament your complete lack of love life. On Friday, at the train station, when that attractive guy asked you for the time, you snarled because he was wearing a watch. Yes, we agree that perhaps he could have taken off the watch but you should have ignored that as there aren't many cute guys who are interested in girls like you. And then when you were in the train and he got stuck and had to pry the door open to get in, you laughed at him and turned to admire the handsome 35 year old man on the opposite platform( an age difference which is totally inappropriate by the way.) Our president, Jenna, often uses the nonchalant air of indifference to get her man but she does eventually acknowledge him, we are not quite sure what YOUR method even is. By any chance was it that thing you were doing at Watford Junction? Where you bought a coffee and a giant chocolate muffin, sat down in front of that guy who looked like Richard Gere in American Gigolo, and then proceeded to throw the muffin down your gargantuan cakehole and spill your coffee on your shoe? The act that actually made him stare at you in complete disbelief?
All we have to say, is sort it out. Pronto. You're an embarrassment to your peers. And us.
Yours Sincerely
The British Association of Teenagers
It has come to our attention that you are generally quite inept at being a successful teenager. We really thought that by now you would have mastered what life involves, however, as we see your unbrushed hair and mismatched socks, we realise you have a long way to go. Your attitude quite frankly, is appalling. Instead of being a sociable character who goes out frequently, you have turned into a recluse, shunning the company of others in favour of huddling over your laptop to watch Japanese dramas which exasperate you and make you cry, Ugly Betty and Supernatural. We believe in crying, but only when it is over something sufficiently angsty e.g. parents who don't understand you. We do however, congratulate you on watching Supernatural, as those two ass-kicking brothers are hot. Your drab wardrobe is mainly grey and navy blue with occasionally black in the form of tights. Also we have noted the absence of make-up from your life, perhaps you think that your sallow complexion and unremarkable face do not require any make-up (we do not count a Nivea Intensive Care chapstick, and face cream as make-up).
We additionally lament your complete lack of love life. On Friday, at the train station, when that attractive guy asked you for the time, you snarled because he was wearing a watch. Yes, we agree that perhaps he could have taken off the watch but you should have ignored that as there aren't many cute guys who are interested in girls like you. And then when you were in the train and he got stuck and had to pry the door open to get in, you laughed at him and turned to admire the handsome 35 year old man on the opposite platform( an age difference which is totally inappropriate by the way.) Our president, Jenna, often uses the nonchalant air of indifference to get her man but she does eventually acknowledge him, we are not quite sure what YOUR method even is. By any chance was it that thing you were doing at Watford Junction? Where you bought a coffee and a giant chocolate muffin, sat down in front of that guy who looked like Richard Gere in American Gigolo, and then proceeded to throw the muffin down your gargantuan cakehole and spill your coffee on your shoe? The act that actually made him stare at you in complete disbelief?
All we have to say, is sort it out. Pronto. You're an embarrassment to your peers. And us.
Yours Sincerely
The British Association of Teenagers
Labels: pop culture, random musings
6 commentsTuesday, March 20, 2007
I hate money.
I hit my overdraft limit today when I was trying to buy lunch this afternoon. Apparently I don't have a sponser who just deposits endless amounts of money into my account. What I do have is a gaping hole of an overdraft, and love for pretty things and sushi. Because I am ashamed of being so inadequate where money is concerned (in addition to: having no upper body strength, and actually enjoying idiotic programmes like Clueless and Sabrina because 90's fashion had no rules) I decided to speak the bank manager because I thought he must be a kind man; a man who had children of his own that he fretted about frequently, a man who was nice to his wife and never forgot anniversaries. A man, like no man before. Of course, I was reaching for the freaking stars.
He told me that me that he wouldn't give me an extension, and that if I wanted one I could apply for one but it would take at least 5 days to come through. Then he asked me why I hadn't taken care of this earlier which would have been more responsible, and in answer, I leapt over the desk and punched him...or imagined it anyway.
Brutally rebuffed, I figured it was time for the emergency £100 cheque and a phone-call to my mum because even though I'm coming home on Friday, I need money for storage and my train ticket. She was disappointed in me but I imagine, was glad to be of help to her youngest offspring. Which is when I realised I hadn't been paid for working at Swarovski over Christmas and when I called them, they had forgotten, so money incoming in end of April...when I won't really need it as much. Gah! Also, the new manager told me she won't need me this Easter because she has employed some other person because she didn't realise I wanted to go back so I have the additional joy of looking for a job 3 days before I go back home...either that or you'll see a post about how to have fun for free. It won't include anything about having picnics instead of eating out because those "tips" piss me off.
At least I know why rappers are always singing about having money, especially the song "Mo' money,"...though the bits in rap about "ho's, bitches, guns and beefs" still escape me.
Labels: rants
4 commentsSaturday, March 17, 2007
Fermez le freakin' bouche.
I have many unexplained absences in my life. From drifting off in the middle of conversations to dream about 80's Christian Slater (dreamboat), to Phys. Ed at school, the real world and French classes. Apparently this semester, out of 36 classes, I've been to 8. I'm very disappointed in myself, truly. Angela, my French tutor is actually quite sweet and I occasionally feel guilty that I don't go.
I still have to do the mundane tasks that the class requires of course, I have to write about French immigration aujourd'hui. Who in the name of Holy Jesus cares anyway? It's not like I'd ever live there, there's only so much I could take before I'd snap and start beating people down with croissants. The only good things I can think of that come from France are the Gainsbourgs and APC. Occasionally I include Air in the list, but then I listen to their music for prolonged periods of time and change my mind. I think I'd rather live in Paris, Texas.
Or Japan. I have a inexplicable desire to live in Japan, and it would be perfect; I love sushi, and often spend my weekends dressed in a bizarre Victorian Lolita style that involves carrying a parasol when not needed. Though it's possible I am lying about the latter. Dating would be difficult though, I'm all for interracial dating but there's something not aesthetically right about an Indian girl and a Japanese guy(or vice versa) even though they are sometimes freakishly attractive. Maybe I could fly over to India for that, I'm not really attracted to Indian guys though. I can't explain that comment really but mostly I find them pretty boring, irritating and unattractive. It could just be because the majority of Indian guys in England have taken it upon themselves to create some retarded form of 'gangster-speak' that requires a lot of "safe bruv-ing" and so on. Seeing Indian guys that don't conform to this rule is like seeing La Lohan sober, or Scarlett Johansson covering her breasts. I have seen exactly one on campus and sometimes spot them at gigs, playing the role of Indian Indie Guy so well that even I get excited and bestow him with a glance before pretending that I haven't noticed and resuming my normal expression of boredom (which I learnt from Daria, the only decent programme MTV ever produced).
Labels: pop culture, random musings
4 commentsSaturday, March 10, 2007
The Hallowed.
Dries Van Noten always gets it right. While many designers prove themselves to be one-trick ponies or inconsistent with good design, Dries Van Noten has never cropped up on my list of designers who should resign themselves to working as teaboys (or girls, The Apathist knows no gender boundaries) for Zac Posen instead. I never really appreciate designers who dream up wild fantastical creations because I think the beauty lies in how functional and wearable the clothing is, as well as being incredibly easy on the eyes. You should check out his complete collections because they're fantastic examples of great design.
Spring/summer 07
Autumn / Winter 07-8
