Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Boys Watch the Girls While the Girls Watch the Boys Who Watch the Girls Go By…

It’s occurred to me, looking through the archives of this blog, that there’s an awful lot about the ladies – but almost nothing at all about the gentlemen - a sore oversight on my part, which I will seek to redress in this here post.

Perhaps one of the reasons why I haven’t written much this year about men’s style is that I always thought that men’s style was much more straightforward than women’s. On account of the absence of breasts, hips and thighs, I’ve always held a firm belief that men have a much easier time dressing themselves – i.e., put on a pair of decent jeans, a button down, and a jacket, and you’re ready to rock the kazbar.

However, recent and close observation of the males in my life has lead me to conclude that men can be just as fabulous, if not more so, than us ladies. (Recently there has also been a lot of close – cough- ‘observation’ - of males who are not in my life, more’s the pity, at gigs and on sidewalks, but that’s a homily for another time).

I think we don’t notice male style dilemmas as they are played out on a more subtle level than female ones. As mentioned above, the fact that there are simply less shapes and styles of clothes for men to choose from means that there’s going to be less plurality in male dressing – it’s hard to break away from the pants and shirts model when it’s socially unacceptable to wear anything else. However, within, and perhaps because of, these confines, there are some spectacularly stylish men whom I feel it is my duty to valorise on this humble blog.

I ought to start with the inspiration for this post. On Saturday, Rosie Bon Jovie and I had the immense privilege and pleasure of listening to a brilliant indie-rock-folk band, The 45, at Ainslie Hall. The lead singer of said band, apart from having a voice like Nick Cave and the lyrical talents of Geoff Buckly, was a brilliantly stylish man, a light on the hill to which all of you gentlemen out there should aspire. Aside from a brilliantly scuffed pair of workboots and authentically worn-in jeans, this young rocker had perfected the waistcoat-shirt-tie-hat combo. This is territory where many have strayed and failed spectacularly, particularly in the first year of an arts degree at university. Proving that old fashion maxim about wearing your clothes rather than letting them wear you, this muso demonstrated that what I had once dismissed as wankwear can, and is, fabulously stylish when it’s done with a sense of integrity and reality – with a sense of owning the clothes rather than the clothes owning you.

My fabulously stylish friends, Jordan Hawthorne and Brody Leon, demonstrate, in their different approaches to style, that there are many ways for men to be fabulous on a tighter than tight shoestring budget. Jordan Hawthorne’s approach is to focus on quality accessories. Although Jordan looks similar whenever I see him, he always looks good, on account of having a capsule wardrobe of jeans and a few shirts coupled with brilliant accessories. Of note are his choice in glasses frames – which are always just noticeable enough to make you comment, but not so outrageous as to make him a laughing stock – and his signature satchel. I covet this satchel, not only for its innate beauty and practicality, but because of its quality and the feeling that it gives of being timeless. Which makes sense, given that Jordan picked up this particular piece of fabulousness in the middle east, during a year overseas. Again, like the abovementioned rocker, Jordan’s style works because, in addition to being well thought out and classically well accessorised, it is all his own, and speaks to his interests and his experiences.

In contrast to Jordan Hawthorne’s understated style, Brody Leon encapsulates all that is good about flamboyant-old school-vintage-student-chic. His endless and cheerful parade of tweed jackets always brighten the ANU campus. Never one to shy away from more flamboyant vintage numbers, Brody has numerous fabulous pieces, the highlight of which is his tuxedo jacket with tails – an authentic twenties number, I believe, and a piece which those not endowed with natural style would be swamped by. I have also heard tell that Brody Leon has come into possession of a particular pair of red Cuban heels…having not seen them with my own eyes I cannot pass judgement, but I’m sure they are as stylish as everything else in Brody’s wardrobe.

There are so many other stylish men that I know, I could go on for ages. I haven’t touched on Jimmy Henry’s board short collection, or Pete Morrisey’s burgundy velvet 70s blazer, or Hugo Kirkham’s leather jacket. If I had to draw a common thread that unites all these fabulously stylish men together, however, it would be their sense of stylistic integrity – of staying true to what they know is fabulous. Something which, in spite of my earlier reticence, is worth an honourable mention on this blog.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

I Love the Smell of Inspiration in the Monring

I won’t bore you with reasons why I haven’t been giving you the love and attention you and I both know you deserve…ok, I’ll give you some hints…

New house, dramas with new house and their resolution forthwith, 120 undergraduate essays and another 60 still to come, trips to Ikea, Goublburn, Queanbeyan, gardening, breakup with J-man, thesis, tutoring and counselling the kiddies, library fines, an early quarter- life ‘what-the-fuck-am-I-doing’ crisis, and a kicking housewarming.

Don’t you feel exhausted reading all that??? I do too, and I actually did it all!

So, I’m one busy lizzie, as you can see. And, as happens to the best of us, this busyness has left me feeling rather drained, in every way that a body can be. This, of course, extends to the sartorial. I’ve actually fantasised about coming to university in track pants. THE HORROR.

Which got me to thinking – how does one go about recharging one’s batteries – sartorially and spiritually? To who, where and what can one turn for inspiration when that creative kick up the pants is sorely needed?

Any newsstand would have you believe that inspiration, at least in a sartorial sense, comes from buying the latest Mari Claire and gallivanting off to DFO, backed by a cavalry of credit cards at the ready. Of course, being the recesisionista that I am, and also encountering the budgetary challenges of heating bills, this is not an option. Also, to be perfectly honest, I’ve never really been that inspired by fashion magazines. Firstly, they’ve got that styled-within-an-inch-of-their-life ethos, which is hard to put into practice, especially when the clock’s ticking and the hope of finding an available car park at uni is drawing ever closer to a snowballs’ in hell. Secondly, the whole disposable fashion thing raises numerous issues for me, in terms of the social and environmental implications – not to mention the storage ones! And finally, as I’ve said before on this blog, I don’t understand why we would all want to look the same, because then we’d get tired of looking at each other.

So, inspiration from fashion magazines; do not want.

Of course, one could argue that one draws inspiration from The Fabulous – those we admire and get all jelly-in-the-belly thinking about. The fabulous are not confined to the current flavours of the month – rather, they can be from any era, real or imagined, lauded or lampooned for their style. My personal list is too long and varied to go into here, but needless to say, it spans the known history of the world. But back to the point - dressing as a Fleetwood Mac era Stevie Nicks at my housewarming certainly got my creative juices flowing. There’s something mystical about taking on the mantle of another – of borrowing some of their shine – that can boost you even in the most trying of circumstances. Perhaps this is why ‘important’ people wear uniforms, or have ridged dress norms – it’s the hope that in dressing like a judge, a doctor, a rock star, or a politician, one might actually find oneself feeling like one. The same goes for dressing like The Fabulous – in times of inspirational crisis, it’s nice to borrow someone else’s shine for a while, especially when circumstances make it hard to be glossy in your own right.

However, borrowing someone else’s fabulousness can only last so long. It’s like a quick sugar hit – it keeps you ticking over, but eventually you have to take in something more sustaining. It occurred to me this morning, over my low GI nutritionally sounds breakfast of rye tost with tahini and honey, it’s the people we love that are the daily bread which both sustains and inspires me. How would we be creative with our style if there weren’t people at our breakfast tables, ready with the compliments and suggestions that stoke the fire of our sartorial inspiration? How would we continue to be enthusiastic teachers if we didn’t know our student were learning – if we didn’t have to read and grade their essays? And, most importantly dear readers, how would we continue to write if not for the gentle, and not so gentle, nudgings and naggings of our nearest and dearest? And, in a life full of dear ones, inspiration, sartorial or otherwise, is never too far away.