With glimpses of fall fashion trickling into stores, it's become apparent that we're not going to be pulling out of the recession this season. Affluence is out. Want to purchase a jacket in a luxe brocade? You'll find them in funky neons rather than sophisticated jewel-tones, colours specifically chosen to degrade the luxury of the item, mocking the affluence originally intended for it.
Leggings returned full-force this year after disappearing following a heydey in the early 90s, perhaps because they're cheap and can be worn as a substitute for pants. (Not -- please -- not that they should be substituted for pants, or that they look good on anyone when worn this way -- just that they can be.) Goodbye, tweed trousers. Who needs to streamline her legs when unemployment has forced her to be more thrifty at the grocery store? Grab those leggings to show off those slimmer thighs!
Gladiator sandals, too, were all the rage this summer. Warrior footwear. No delicate, thin straps to highlight petal-pink pedicures were seen this season. I saw toenails in bright neons, deep greens, sea blues -- nothing flirty and carefree. Summer's shades were all about making bold statements, they were about being seen, making yourself stand out (which, incedentally, you need to do in a big way to get a job in today's market). But you also need to protect yourself -- hence the studs and grommets, the knee-high cages certain sandal styles formed around the legs. Sky-high heels, too, were all the rage this summer. Height equals power. You're sure to be noticed when you're towering above all the other women at the party. Two-inch kitten heels? Forget it. There's no place for demure or understated right now. Flats are permissible because they're so functional. You can move in flats. No one wants to hinder movement in a recession.
Trying to decide between sandals or boots for the transitional weather of September and October? Fall's most fashionable footwear will make your decision a little easier. You can enjoy a wide array of high-heeled boots with open toes and cut out heels. With no pointed toes to scuff or dent, your shoes will last a little longer, saving you money in the long run. (Just be sure to wear socks when it gets a little colder).
Department stores are also stocked with a preponderance of plaid. Although these styles are more fitted than their 90s-era counterparts, the patterns recall days of Goodwill shopping and wearing that shirt till it literally falls apart. Good thing distressed denim is back, too. Now you don't have to scrap your jeans when they get holes. You can even buy jeans that already have holes in them, but I think these are just out on the racks to let people know that it's okay to wear this style again. (Really, who's dumb enough to buy clothes with holes in it?)
And if health care doesn't get reformed, we might see burlap make an appearance just in time for spring!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Ugly People Can Sing, Too; and Other Lessons Susan Boyle Taught Us
So the middle-aged Scotswoman with Brillo-pad hair and Freida Kahlo brows didn't win "Britain's Got Talent," but she did win the hearts of American and Britain. And she didn't even turn into a beautiful swan at the end.
Many people, especially women, have watched her audition on You Tube, only to be moved to tears. When Boyle walked on stage, the audience jeered; the judges snickered. The set-up was perfect: an unattractive, middle-aged, thick-waisted woman with a double chin entering a competition dominated by nubile, radiant teens and twenty-somethings. The punchline was brilliant. It was all there: those crystal clear notes, the pristine voice, the unadulterated beauty that emerged from the ugliness that was both Fantine's desolate life and Boyle's unattractive features.
Judges and audiences alike were shocked that such a wondrous voice could come from the little Scottish spinster standing on stage before them. In a world obsessed with manufactured beauty and perpetual youth, virtue and usefulness stand diametrically opposed to extra weight, wrinkles, and crooked teeth. Everyone expected Boyle to fail miserably; and when she didn't, they were ashamed. As they rightfully should have been. Why didn't anyone in that auditorium think that Boyle had any talent to display when she walked out on stage? Was it her matronly dress? Her double chin? Her unkempt hair? Her age?
Boyle undoubtedly would have gone on to the next round of the competition for her performance of "I Dreamed A Dream" had she been twenty, slender, and pretty. But she wouldn't have been an international sensation. Why? Because if a young, stylishly-dressed woman with a trendy hairstyle had sang like that, we'd say she was talented, but not remarkable. We'd even give her the benefit of the doubt when she walked on stage, expecting her to wow us in some way. Because beauty equals competence, usefulness, talent, virtue. Had Boyle been anything less than extraordinary, she would have been booed off stage. Good wouldn't have been good enough; even "really good" wouldn't have cut it. Deep-seated social attitudes necessitated that she leave no room for doubt; she needed to be an atomic bomb. After all, no one expects an ugly woman to do anything heroic or creative. There's simply no place for these Quasimodos in today's plastic society.
Which is exactly why Boyle became such a sensation. "Look!" we cried. "It's ugly! But it's singing!" She didn't force us to confront our deep-seated misogynistic stereotypes that link a woman's beauty directly to her societal value when she opened her mouth and sang -- she knocked those stereotypes out cold.
Unfortunately, these misogynistic tendencies got back up and shook themselves off rather quickly. The judges' appraisals were more annoying than the offensive, drawn-out wolf whistle that greeted Susan when she walked on stage. "Well," they exclaimed, "we expected a middle-aged, unattractive woman like yourself to sound like hell and embarass yourself, so imagine how shocked we are that you actually have talent!" They didn't congratulate her voice (enough). Instead, they patted themselves on the backs for being moved by it. They praised Boyle for defying their expectations, when the hideousness of this episode is in the expectations themselves.
Many people, especially women, have watched her audition on You Tube, only to be moved to tears. When Boyle walked on stage, the audience jeered; the judges snickered. The set-up was perfect: an unattractive, middle-aged, thick-waisted woman with a double chin entering a competition dominated by nubile, radiant teens and twenty-somethings. The punchline was brilliant. It was all there: those crystal clear notes, the pristine voice, the unadulterated beauty that emerged from the ugliness that was both Fantine's desolate life and Boyle's unattractive features.
Judges and audiences alike were shocked that such a wondrous voice could come from the little Scottish spinster standing on stage before them. In a world obsessed with manufactured beauty and perpetual youth, virtue and usefulness stand diametrically opposed to extra weight, wrinkles, and crooked teeth. Everyone expected Boyle to fail miserably; and when she didn't, they were ashamed. As they rightfully should have been. Why didn't anyone in that auditorium think that Boyle had any talent to display when she walked out on stage? Was it her matronly dress? Her double chin? Her unkempt hair? Her age?
Boyle undoubtedly would have gone on to the next round of the competition for her performance of "I Dreamed A Dream" had she been twenty, slender, and pretty. But she wouldn't have been an international sensation. Why? Because if a young, stylishly-dressed woman with a trendy hairstyle had sang like that, we'd say she was talented, but not remarkable. We'd even give her the benefit of the doubt when she walked on stage, expecting her to wow us in some way. Because beauty equals competence, usefulness, talent, virtue. Had Boyle been anything less than extraordinary, she would have been booed off stage. Good wouldn't have been good enough; even "really good" wouldn't have cut it. Deep-seated social attitudes necessitated that she leave no room for doubt; she needed to be an atomic bomb. After all, no one expects an ugly woman to do anything heroic or creative. There's simply no place for these Quasimodos in today's plastic society.
Which is exactly why Boyle became such a sensation. "Look!" we cried. "It's ugly! But it's singing!" She didn't force us to confront our deep-seated misogynistic stereotypes that link a woman's beauty directly to her societal value when she opened her mouth and sang -- she knocked those stereotypes out cold.
Unfortunately, these misogynistic tendencies got back up and shook themselves off rather quickly. The judges' appraisals were more annoying than the offensive, drawn-out wolf whistle that greeted Susan when she walked on stage. "Well," they exclaimed, "we expected a middle-aged, unattractive woman like yourself to sound like hell and embarass yourself, so imagine how shocked we are that you actually have talent!" They didn't congratulate her voice (enough). Instead, they patted themselves on the backs for being moved by it. They praised Boyle for defying their expectations, when the hideousness of this episode is in the expectations themselves.
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