Fashion: Vogue Reflections (Dec. '16)
Here's some thoughts as I enjoyed Vogue's December 2016 issue. Think of it as my zine of the issue.
1. Dad, Interrupted. 102-6. by Jeanne Darst.
I don't know who Jeanne Darst is. I haven't heard of her or read her book, which she writes about in this article. I hesitate to "review" her article because it would be unnecessary; I would say something like "Darst writes with concision, wit, feeling, and success." That tells you nothing—if she couldn't do that, she wouldn't be published in Vogue. Instead, I'll tell you what I heard in it. I heard the difficulty of family, not in the cliche way but in the way that everyone who's reading hears something that resonates with them. I heard a recognition of the all-too-regular failing of parents and children to grow into adult life together, though her situation was colored by a more identifiable issue—the publishing of a book she wrote about her father. Finally, I heard a woman who had used the written word to write about something that she had no other way to say—"maybe unconsciously I did know that a book was the only way to say these things without being interrupted"—but that writing had left her with a second situation which she could get out of no other way but by writing yet again, this time in the pages of Vogue. She opened and closed the article by speaking about Christmas, wishing that her holiday would include her father and their relationship the way it had been before the book. The irony was all too strong that, though the article was a sure means of expression—one published in Vogue, no less—the interaction with her father was uncertain, and the redundancy of the issue of person vs. publication comes as a warning to me as I seek publication.
2. The X Factor
Xiamena Caminos (read who & what here) is a visionary. People like her, who share her vision and understanding, are the future of contemporary art. I say this not because I know anything about contemporary art, but because she convinced me that I could engage with and access contemporary art.
3. Crashing the Party
I'm beginning to wonder if this month's Vogue was written for me—this article was about a man who wanted to be a writer, decided to get a job rather than trying to make money off of fiction, and ended up working for people who organized ritzy charity balls of NYC's high society.
This man, Adam Haslett, is looking back to write this piece—the article fills this month's "Nostalgia" section—but what I find interesting is that it doesn't say what he's doing now. He graduated from college with a degree in Philosophy, worked in NYC for a while, the had to get away from it so he went to Scotland, where he lived for only two months, and the story ends.
And I love that, because I think about this so often: first job. How important is my first job out of college? How similar will it be to what I do for the following ten, twenty, thirty years? Do I want to make money or work in education or gosh I don't even know. But thanks to this guy, I'm reminded that I can just do something for a little while, something crazy, something fun, something kind of weird, and look back on it later with detachment and appreciation. And that's freeing: I don't have to change my life with my first job. I don't have to change my life, I just have to live it.
4. Oliver's Twist
If Vogue is seeking to inform me of new things and make me care immensely about them, at least for the amount of time the article continues to ring in my mind before I go on to the next one, then they are absolutely succeeding at their job. (Brb, telling Vogue that they have my approval. #congrats) This article was about Oliver Theyskens, who has been designing for Theory for the last five years but just recently released a line under his own name for the first time since 2002. I don't have anything deep to say except that I love luxury fashion and I like this guy. I just looked through the 25-look collection and it amazed me (the nicer way of saying it made me angry because it was so good). Check it out on that second link!
1. Dad, Interrupted. 102-6. by Jeanne Darst.
I don't know who Jeanne Darst is. I haven't heard of her or read her book, which she writes about in this article. I hesitate to "review" her article because it would be unnecessary; I would say something like "Darst writes with concision, wit, feeling, and success." That tells you nothing—if she couldn't do that, she wouldn't be published in Vogue. Instead, I'll tell you what I heard in it. I heard the difficulty of family, not in the cliche way but in the way that everyone who's reading hears something that resonates with them. I heard a recognition of the all-too-regular failing of parents and children to grow into adult life together, though her situation was colored by a more identifiable issue—the publishing of a book she wrote about her father. Finally, I heard a woman who had used the written word to write about something that she had no other way to say—"maybe unconsciously I did know that a book was the only way to say these things without being interrupted"—but that writing had left her with a second situation which she could get out of no other way but by writing yet again, this time in the pages of Vogue. She opened and closed the article by speaking about Christmas, wishing that her holiday would include her father and their relationship the way it had been before the book. The irony was all too strong that, though the article was a sure means of expression—one published in Vogue, no less—the interaction with her father was uncertain, and the redundancy of the issue of person vs. publication comes as a warning to me as I seek publication.
2. The X Factor
Xiamena Caminos (read who & what here) is a visionary. People like her, who share her vision and understanding, are the future of contemporary art. I say this not because I know anything about contemporary art, but because she convinced me that I could engage with and access contemporary art.
3. Crashing the Party
I'm beginning to wonder if this month's Vogue was written for me—this article was about a man who wanted to be a writer, decided to get a job rather than trying to make money off of fiction, and ended up working for people who organized ritzy charity balls of NYC's high society.
This man, Adam Haslett, is looking back to write this piece—the article fills this month's "Nostalgia" section—but what I find interesting is that it doesn't say what he's doing now. He graduated from college with a degree in Philosophy, worked in NYC for a while, the had to get away from it so he went to Scotland, where he lived for only two months, and the story ends.
And I love that, because I think about this so often: first job. How important is my first job out of college? How similar will it be to what I do for the following ten, twenty, thirty years? Do I want to make money or work in education or gosh I don't even know. But thanks to this guy, I'm reminded that I can just do something for a little while, something crazy, something fun, something kind of weird, and look back on it later with detachment and appreciation. And that's freeing: I don't have to change my life with my first job. I don't have to change my life, I just have to live it.
4. Oliver's Twist
If Vogue is seeking to inform me of new things and make me care immensely about them, at least for the amount of time the article continues to ring in my mind before I go on to the next one, then they are absolutely succeeding at their job. (Brb, telling Vogue that they have my approval. #congrats) This article was about Oliver Theyskens, who has been designing for Theory for the last five years but just recently released a line under his own name for the first time since 2002. I don't have anything deep to say except that I love luxury fashion and I like this guy. I just looked through the 25-look collection and it amazed me (the nicer way of saying it made me angry because it was so good). Check it out on that second link!