I may be about to commit fashion suicide and send myself forever to persona-non-grata-ville. Well, frankly I don’t give a damn, to paraphrase Rhett Butler. I just think it’s time someone spoke up about this crime against reason that is taking place under the glaring spotlight of the fashion world’s adoration.
Let me make things clearer about what has gotten my goat quite so severely. Look at this holey, icky pink crop top and leggings combo. Forget the caption. Do you genuinely think that is a good look? Classy? Innovative? Saying something new? Deserving of a very, very, very large price tag? Be honest now!
I think it’s just awful, and I would think it was awful even if it was £4.99 hanging on a wonky rail in Camden Market (where it would probably look quite at home). And what about these? Day-glo plush and big chains and padlocks and lumpy trims and fabric that looks like it could be from a really ugly sofa and be labelled ‘draylon’. That’s just my opinion about these looks from the AW’14 Chanel collection, but if you have eyes I don’t really see how you can disagree.
Just to back up the point I am rather circuitously making, these are some looks from the Chanel SS’15 show that just happened Paris. As usual, the fashion world appears to be doing backflips of joy, combusting with excitement at how amazing this collection is and feting it’s creator, the forever monochrome Kaiser Karl.
Chanel SS’15 (images from style.com with thanks)
These are just a few looks selected pretty randomly from this show. Can you honestly say that this is beautiful? Does this really sit with the tradition and heritage of Chanel? I get ‘Ugly’ Fashion, really I do, but this is something else. This is ugly in a whole new way. Like just really rotten ugly.
I actually think that Karl Lagerfeld may be pulling fashion’s leg, just seeing how awful he can make the collections look and still get away with it. It’s an elaborate prank, a joke, a ruse. What else could this possibly be? And the fashion world’s taste-makers have all fallen for it. I think Karl must go home every evening and stifle the noise of his hysterical laughter by stuffing his mush into Choupette’s furry tum.
Okay, I have said it. I’m out and proud! Who’s with me? Or am I really all alone in fashion Coventry? Ooh, it’s gone awfully quite round here…