Sitting Out on 2008's Biggest Fashion Film
The Sex and the City movie is premiering next week. Judging from the amount of press it's gotten from the fashion blogs, everyone with even a mild interest in fashion is supposed to care. Yet I don't. I've never had cable, and never seen the show. Since the lives of the rich and fabulous don't interest me, SATC doesn't even merit a spot on my Netflix queue.
Cute but not revolutionary.
I missed the Carrie Bradshaw fashion icon boat. On the one hand, I can see how the clothes were shockingly different from the grunge and faux goth attire of the 1990s. I can also appreciate a strange mash of styles and contrasting looks. Piles of pearls with a tee is alright by me. Heels and jeans are a particular favorite, and don't get me started on my deep love of big brooches. Unfortunately what I see women emulate the most is spending a months rent on a Fendi baguette or Manolo Blahnik stilettos, as if the designer name will bring a fabulous life or exquisite sense of style. Fashion has always been about art and expression for me, so I can't relate to clothing as status. I may love the Fendi B bag, but that has more to do with my buckle and patent obsessions than the desire to have other women know what I spent on my purse. (No, I don't have a B. Maybe when the price drops down to $200.)
Accessories are an easy way to take risks, so why don't more women try?
I especially don't understand the fascination that Sex and the City holds for women here in the Midwest where wages are generally lower, warehouses outnumber offices, and the lack of sidewalks destroys any $700 shoe purchase. (I'll withhold my thoughts on what it's like to love fashion in Practicalville for another post.) Plus, some of the City styles just don't translate here. I remember when Carrie was donning nameplate necklaces, and white shirts over a black bra. In middle America, we just call that trashy.
Ninety's midriffs aside, these looks don't work off the show and certainly not for the average midwestern woman.
Are you a fan of Sex and the City styles? Can you explain it to my thrifty midwestern self?
Cute but not revolutionary.I missed the Carrie Bradshaw fashion icon boat. On the one hand, I can see how the clothes were shockingly different from the grunge and faux goth attire of the 1990s. I can also appreciate a strange mash of styles and contrasting looks. Piles of pearls with a tee is alright by me. Heels and jeans are a particular favorite, and don't get me started on my deep love of big brooches. Unfortunately what I see women emulate the most is spending a months rent on a Fendi baguette or Manolo Blahnik stilettos, as if the designer name will bring a fabulous life or exquisite sense of style. Fashion has always been about art and expression for me, so I can't relate to clothing as status. I may love the Fendi B bag, but that has more to do with my buckle and patent obsessions than the desire to have other women know what I spent on my purse. (No, I don't have a B. Maybe when the price drops down to $200.)
Accessories are an easy way to take risks, so why don't more women try?I especially don't understand the fascination that Sex and the City holds for women here in the Midwest where wages are generally lower, warehouses outnumber offices, and the lack of sidewalks destroys any $700 shoe purchase. (I'll withhold my thoughts on what it's like to love fashion in Practicalville for another post.) Plus, some of the City styles just don't translate here. I remember when Carrie was donning nameplate necklaces, and white shirts over a black bra. In middle America, we just call that trashy.
Ninety's midriffs aside, these looks don't work off the show and certainly not for the average midwestern woman.Are you a fan of Sex and the City styles? Can you explain it to my thrifty midwestern self?
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