View From The Back

Allow me to set the scene: young Jo’burgers, in one sort of hatchback or another and I, the wincing muscle lover. Indeed, this is starting to look like a battle of the forms rather than a battle of specifics.

I do not like hatchbacks, at all. I don’t like their stubby cockiness or their Messi-esque responses; they just look a bit, well, rough. I favour lengthy elegance and flowing contours, which doesn’t leave me with much to enjoy in this age of (cringe) Hatchbacks.

I am a stubborn debater, so I write this with absolute reluctance: the new Megane is, dare I say it, rather nice.

It is not personal circumstance fuelling this erm, obsession (or is it?), I was merely pointed in the direction of this cleaner cut version. And it does look good, with less of an accentuated Derrière and more of a sleek profile, I think I have a car crush, but more than anything else, I am overjoyed that they trimmed that Kim Kardashian behind.

This leads me to the real point of this post- why are so many hatchbacks so additionally ‘blessed’ from behind? It is a marketing strategy aimed at the male vice? Or is it a trend perpetuated by deprived car designers who are appealing to their male love of ass? Regardless of the intention, there are a frightening number of these voluptuous models, some even penetrating revered fashion publications such as Bazaar and Vogue. Cue the Fiat 500 by Gucci:




Let me be clear, I did not intend this post to be a Hatchback bashing session, but I cannot swallow the arrogance of the Fiat, in fact, I am speechless (almost).

But shall I put one more bullet in this trend? I do not have to say anything at all, a picture does say a lot:




Can you hear the bass in that cockroach of an automobile? How fitting for Marlboro and Mayfair, if you’ll excuse my snobby commentary.

I don’t like hatchbacks, at all, but I do love the new Megane, and the Ford Fiesta and Focus but that is where it ends. Until those asses disappear or are reigned in, I shall slander.

Yes I am being an ass, but that also sums up your car.

The Mile High Club Is No More

Out with the old and in with the new, and platforms are- dare I risk it- so last season. So tell me dear trendsetter, what shall I do with my newly acquired contemporary floral platformed courts? Should I donate them to a worthy cause on Oxford Road, maybe someone with red-hair will appreciate them more than my gullible feet?

Like the very mature gentleman who donned one burgundy loafer and one navy one, I aim for the title of Fashion Rebel. Think of Mr. Galliano’s spacesuit and then equate my glam grunge look, anti-climax of note perhaps?

Let us not be led into the ridiculous by the designers we dig, we may end up gymming in feather trimmed waistcoats (an example I wish I could erase). It’s about time that the consumers took a stand against trends like tattoo bodysuits (at this point I’ll stop making Galliano references). Pull your snotty nose out of Bazaar and buy something YOU think is beautiful, besides, quirky is trendy too no?

I am much too tired to give you examples off the runway but that isn’t the point of this piece is it?

I hope that my advice is heeded by both sheep and shepherds alike, now go on Sir, find that other navy loafer while I strut my platforms into the articles which told me to throw them away…

Fetish vs. Retro; The Spring 2012 Debacle

It’s a seasonal issue Dear Reader; illustrated by women going slightly nutty with indecision over which trend should dominate their wardrobe. And the successes seldom outweigh the fails. There is always that group of women who go rogue and choose the most ludicrous trend, all in a sad attempt to “make it work”, tsk tsk ladies, you know better than to wear your underwear on the outside, this is not a Marvel comic book.




This season the battle is Fall’s Fetish up against the rather overworked Spring Mad Men inspired Retro shifts and embellished prints. Louis V’s handcuffs and glam take on bondage was contrasted by Sarah Burton’s ‘repressed angel’ Fall collection of restrainers and leather chokers, but of course, that’s just one end of this scale.

Swinging to the other extreme, Alexandre Herchcovitch’s Spring collection of vintage influenced dresses (both authentic and not) threw some of the most revered fashionistas off course (and by revered, I’m talking about the fashion Nazis that for a whole season pranced around in Emilio Pucci frills). They’ve been asking how to find a balance between fetish boots and that oh-so-pretty flared shift, but more importantly, if there even is one.

It’s at this point that many people want to shoot designers for being so bloody extreme, it’s a fashion debacle people, an utter crisis, and if we- the ahem, ‘intellectuals’- do not draw a line somewhere we’ll have a riot of mistakes: think champagne baby-doll satin meets black latex, a travesty I personally could never allow.

Ladies, some seasons are meant to be distinguished from one another, and please, I implore you, make that distinction in the pieces you put together.

A flared shift; gold handcuff bracelet and desert boots? Maybe.

A bubble shift with fetish boots? Over my dead body.

Designer Relevance: A Diagnosis of Sorts

Two days ago, my beloved sister bought me a sheer, navy t-shirt with a mélange trim, an exquisite piece under any circumstances. This tee proves to be especially appealing with the Spring 2012 sheer mini-trend and it feels Amazing. After recovering from the head rush of buying it, I contemplated the relevance of designer clothing, more specifically:

What pertinence does unaffordable fashion have in a country like South Africa?

In the past, designer attire was about quality and workmanship; an unrivalled level of attention to detail. Designer clothing still holds those points true but now, with more affordable stores clamping onto trends faster than leeches onto animals, and with their quality level rising steadily, are designers becoming irrelevant?

As much as I would like to scare the skirts off my readers (although I think I have none), designers may still have an ace up their sleeves: exclusivity.

For example, I do not know of an affordable store capable of manufacturing a decent Burberry inspired trench or a Dolce leopard print body-con dress (without being trashy that is). The basics of the collections are picked up by trend analysts, but the show-stoppers, the unattainables will always be the designers’ hook in their songs of fashion.

But here's another point:

Is there anything more annoying than having what you feel is a statement piece and then seeing half of the country’s population wearing it? I think not.

The allure may lie in knowing that you are one of a lucky few wearing it. So is it sad or scary that fashion is breeding an elitist attitude?

But that revelation will be elaborated on in due course, and my mélange trim tee will make me feel like a French Noble- with a head- and isn’t that what we all want to feel: Special.