She continues:

The bad news: You won't find any Chanels, or sexy separates from hot labels like Alexander Wang, and the department store offerings are far more traditional than trendy - if they have plus-size departments at all.

Yeah, that's more like it. The article highlights blogs like Curvy Fashionista and a handful of plus-size online boutiques, but the overall truth remains that it's hard out there for a plus-sized shopper. I should know. With the holidays right around the corner, I've found that when you go just a couple of sizes up — from 14 to 16, or from 16 to 18 — the selection changes drastically — and narrows. Most of the time, cute scoop-neck tops and flirty dresses are suddenly replaced by dowdy tent-like tops and frumpy, conservative dresses. If you want to look on-trend, you have your work cut out for you. Plus-size online boutiques deserve applause, but quite often, the design and quality simply can't compete with real designer clothes by noted designers. It's crazy that adding 3 inches here or there means you're suddenly not good enough for J. Crew or French Connection.

In addition, there's the reality that plus size means different things to different people. Commenter "PLozar" rants:

What some posters don't get is that "plus size" doesn't equate to "fat." Even at my absolute thinnest, I couldn't wear tops smaller than size 14 because I'm well endowed… The problem (as kd9 points out) is that simply increasing the dimensions doesn't create a garment that FITS RIGHT — and it's all about fit. Clothes in general are designed for women who are …straight up and down — and they just plain don't FIT anyone who has curves.

On the other hand, it seems like a miracle that any designers and retailers welcome plus-size shoppers — and the substantial profits, since the American woman wears a size 14 — when you think about the mindset behind the other comments on this article, which range from "NO fat chicks!" to "Eating everything at the buffet is not cute or chic" and, of course: "Do these dresses come with a side order of fries?" You'd think that a piece about plus-size fashion would be a place for plus-sized women share experiences, compare notes, and, you know, talk about plus-size fashion. Instead, it's a repository for vile thoughts. merciless mocking of the model (pictured above), and relentless fat-shaming. Some comments have been deleted; it's left up to your imagination how nasty or derogatory the "conversation" was.

My favorite comment — winning points for fat-shaming and misogyny — comes from "tcttw," who says:

If the readers of these comments are going to be so sensitive — ok, offended — or, maybe it's the author, or the editors too, maybe stories like this should go on Jezebel.com. I cannot believe how many harmless but sarcastic comments were edited. It just proves you cannot take a certain gender so seriously.

Plus-Size Fashion Trends: More Options Online [SF Gate]

Forgive me if I revert to a 16-year-old Valley Girl version of myself, but ohmigawd, grody. This is soap wrapped in felt. My bathroom pet peeve is hair on soap. SOAP, BY DEFINITION, SHOULD BE CLEAN. If there's pube hair on your Lever 2000, your shower is VOID. Ew ew ew.

The sweater seems nice and all, but my lust is reserved for that Clothbound Penguin Classic version of Sense and Sensibility. Actually, my favorite designs in the series are the chandelier-covered Great Expectations and the peacock-feathered Picture Of Dorian Gray. You have Coralie Bickford-Smith to thank for the exquisite patterns.

This "message in a bottle" thingy is $16 for a little glass jar and some blank paper. Blink. Blink.

Is the "in-the-clouds scarf" pretty, in a shabby chic/grandma's attic kind of way? Yes. Is it $168 pretty? No.

Someone's been in the Ugly Betty wardrobe department.

My problem with Shabby Chic is my same problem with Olsen twins chic. It's not hip to be homeless, so why is it hip to LOOK homeless? Derelicte your own balls.

The "noble lore" blouse is probably cute and Blair Waldorf-esque, but the "hazy" photo treatment makes it hard to tell. It's worse than the time they shot shit underwater, because it makes me feel like I have glaucoma.

If I have one gift, it's the uncanny ability to look at a page of items and only like the most expensive thing pictured. In this case it's the "Enveloped Petals Cardigan," ringing up at $248 — the Upended Poppy tee is $68; the In-A-Moment dress is $118 and the Waltzing Daphne blouse is $98.

"He said he was a painter… He asked me if I wanted to get plastered… I didn't know it he painted walls… Still, he made me feel dizzy and weak in the knees! Or was it the fumes? All I know is I haven't spackled like that in a long time."

Excellent things about this shot:
1. Eyebrows
2. Eyes
3. Masculine/feminine combo of blazer and lace

Terrible things:
1. Blazer wouldn't look good on me/fit my rack
2. Doesn't come in my size anyway

AAAAAHHHH my eyes! Make it stop.

More lovely books. The striped "Saturation Point" heels are cute, too: $88.

She is humming "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes." Mark my words.

The "Great Heights Shift," $148: Cute or corny? As a city girl, I'm a sucker for a skyline.

Oh, Anthro. This always happens. I hate you, then you do something sweet — like pairing a girl "For Flora Skirt" ($168) and pindot tights ($18) with retro "Carved Celadon" heels ($168). Le sigh.

Anthropologie [Official Site]

Earlier: Man Shops Globe: The World Is Your Boho Bazaar
Man Shops Globe: The World Is Your Boho Bazaar
Anthropologie: Sartorialist-ic "Real" People Impossibly Pretty, Well-Dressed
May Anthropologie Catalog: Totally Watered Down
Anthropologie "Adorned": Critters & Kids Steal The Spotlight From Bags & Baubles
Anthropologie "Revival": TV-Ready Fall Fashion
Pottery Barn, Anthropologie & West Elm: Bedding Porn For Sleepyheads
CB2, Anthropologie & Delia's: More Bedding Porn For SleepyHeads
Please Do Not Look The Anthropologie Model In The Eye
Anthropologie "Vignettes": Forcing Us To Look Forward To Fall
Anthropologie "Giving": We Love To Hate & Hate To Love It
Urban Outfitters, Free People & Anthropologie: What's The Difference?
Anthropologie Doesn't Care About Black People

Related: Fetchdog, Drs Fosters & Smith: Howliday Humiliation For Dogs & Cats
Dear Santa: Have You Seen The December J. Crew?
Barneys: Wooing With Witticisms & Wallet-Emptying Wares
Ashro: Stop Being Such A Slob And Get Yourself A Suit, Hat & Wig
19 Crappy & Crazy Christmas Gifts From Sky Mall
Silver Belles & Butt Floss: Christmas At Frederick's Of Hollywood
Preclears On Your List? Shop The Scientology Holiday Catalog

All previous catalog posts

In the wonderfully titled piece, "Ridicule Keeps Fans of Harem Pants From Getting Too Big for Their Britches" Rachel Dodes interviews several women who claim that they're not going to let go of their fancy harem pants anytime soon, regardless of what critical friends, family members, or strangers have to say about it. "I feel like I look very chic in my harem pants," Maggie Betts, who spent $400 on a pair of black silk harem pants, tells Dodes, "Anybody who makes fun of me doesn't know the truth and is a loser."

The pants, as hideous as some of us (by some of us, I mean: me) think they are, are actually selling quite well, and Dodes notes that the reactions they elicit might be the reason. The attention might not always be positive, but it's there, and the women who wear the pants enjoy the challenge of wearing pieces that require confidence to pull off. "It's a form of antifashion," Professor Dincuff Charleston tells Dodes, "If you can pull it off, you know you're incredibly stylish."

Here's where I run into a bit of trouble: is it really "antifashion" if these women are dropping hundreds of dollars on these pants because they saw them on the runways and in the pages of Vogue and on the legs of famous celebrities? Is wearing a pair of pants simply because they're so ugly really that daring if the people who "get fashion" are right there with you? If they're selling "quite well" in several stores? If everyone who makes fun of you for wearing them "doesn't know the truth and is a loser?"

In the end, I suppose it comes down to what you feel most comfortable in. If some women truly love their harem pants, then more power to them. But as with every other stylistic choice ever, the rest of the world doesn't have to love harem pants, as well, and they certainly aren't a bunch of losers for opting to side-step the Hammer-revival trend. The fashion magazines may continue to push this trend for yet another season, but sometimes, you can't make fetch happen, no matter how hard you try.

[Image via BBC]

Ridicule Keeps Fans Of Harem Pants From Getting Too Big For Their Britches [Wall Street Journal]

"Why are Charlie's pants so small?" he would ask me, confused. The transformation had occurred, as it so often does, at college. Charlie had left in no-nonsense khakis and a serviceable close-cropped haircut. When he returned for Thanksgiving break, it was in microscopic Levis, vintage chelsea boots and hair that had been carefully hacked by a Brooklyn razor and disarrayed with the aid of a wax produced by none other than Jonathan Antin.

I for one was thrilled, and we quickly bonded over trips to the Salvation Army and earnest discussions of whether his new sartorial direction should be more Antoine Doinel or early Chris Squire. Sometimes we shared pants. His girlfriend, no incidental player in the transformation, looked on benevolently in cowboy boots and a vintage chubby.

My dad, however, was saddened. Charlie was his baseball buddy, his lunch companion, his pal - who was this nascent fop scouring eBay for belt buckles? Not one to look free clothes in the mouth, he inherited Charlie's castaways, and was soon walking the dog in carpenter jeans and an Abercrombie jacket while Charlie lounged and minced in pants that could just barely contain a wallet and soon showed the hipster's telltale back-pocket rectangle, the inevitable result of skin-tight denim and ever-present Camels. My dad, with the exception of a brief period in the 70s when a girlfriend accented his jew-fro with flares, is the sort of man who's never been in step with fashion and went blithely from mom to girlfriend to wife without ever having to worry too much about what he wore. Since my mother shopped exclusively at discount outlets, this was largely a good thing.

What was at play between the men of 10 Euclid Avenue was a conflict as old as time: serious men don't care about clothes, goes the traditional, while the effete, the affected, the decadent, do. Writes Jasper Gerard in the Daily Telegraph, <blockquote<Women have long been trained to understand clothes, whatever one makes of Cheryl Cole's extraordinary wardrobe on The X Factor. Because they have no obvious uniform, they actually have to think about what to wear every morning: how formal should I appear? How much personality should I display? Legs – yes or no? Ditto cleavage. Men just grab the first suit to hand and whatever shirt looks vaguely ironed, or failing that, clean. The only sartorial decision we have faced in a decade has been "tie or no tie?" and we're still trying to get over that trauma. Plant us under a palm tree and it goes hideously wrong, literally. Tabloids take cruel delight in highlighting celebrity cellulite on women, but it is the male tight Speedo/beer belly combo that has readers spitting out skinny lattes in disgust...Men are forgiven for looking boring off duty as long as they have clearly made absolutely no effort. But it is men who have tried that are ridiculed; particularly those who have almost certainly thought not only about their wardrobe but – ugh – about something more generalised, namely their "image".

Meanwhile, the new series "Puts This On" is predicated on the assumption that men don't know how to dress like grownups - and shows them how. This is as we've always understood the world should be. Men - and by this, people always mean straight men - shouldn't care. They can look fine, as long as a girlfriend or wife or gay man has taken them in hand and made them over, Drive Me Crazy-style. (When straight men make each other over, the effect is, instead, The Pick-Up Artist.)

What my dad saw as frippery and frivolity I understood to be something else: the knowledge that you can change the way you are seen and perceived, and express exactly what you want at any time. Charlie's makeover was not in a vacuum, but of a piece with new interests in books and music, and there was nothing wrong with this. Those men I know who are sharpest (and yes, there are goofy exceptions) are not empty-headed Brummels. I have one friend whose love of tailoring mirrors his passion for history. Another, the boyfriend of one of the site's editors and the sharpest dresser in existence, projects a cool confidence at all times that's of a piece with his music and his sense of place in the world. And we're not even touching Arlo Weiner.

My brother, meanwhile, has both grown (physically; he now wears men's pants) and evolved somewhat since those first heady days of New England Liberal Arts nirvana. He is, without question, a dandy: he gets all his thrift store trousers pegged and his hair still bears the hallmark of Williamsburg. But he's also an interesting and well-rounded guy who doesn't see liking outfits as at odds with anything else and is wholly without self-consciousness. He might wear an unfortunate tweed cap where my dad trumpets dog food on live TV. But at the end of the day, it's all a self-confidence that's good - or, at least, is what it is.

Why Men Are Disasters At Off-Duty Dressing [Telegraph]
Put This On: Web Video Series For Dudes On "Dressing Like A Grownup" [BoingBoing]

Arlo's fashion advice is wise-beyond-his eight years ("It's all about contrast...You know, if you're wearing a clean white shirt you should wear a bit of darkness with it"), but best of all is his explanation of this jumpsuit look:

We were playing a game where we hunt down my baby brother. We pretend he's something called a cutie pie-they're really cute but when you offend them they turn into monsters and eat people. I would wear the jumpsuit to school but mostly I've worn it around the house. It's so comfortable. I wear it to do dishes or take out the trash. It's really warm so it's also good for fall.

This is all very fascinating and instructive. But can we hear reviews from some of young Master Weiner's school-mates? One hopes they're appropriately respectful of having a fashion visionary in their midst.

The Littlest Dany [GQ]

Earlier: 8-Year-Old Boy Loves Dressing To The Nines
Mad Men Creator Fathered The World's Most Stylish 8-Year-Old

• According to the LA Times Twitter is the new outlet for celebrity feuds. Everyone from Perez Hilton (natch) to Chris Brown are getting in on the action. Apparently, part of the appeal of Twitter is that the entries are written and posted so quickly that there is no time for a publicist to censor the sentiment. • Jezebel contributor Doree Shafrir takes on the growing trend of American couples outsourcing surrogacy to India. Although homosexuality was only recently decriminalized in India, many gay couples are finding that some Indian clinics are easier to deal with than American surrogates. • A LDS church in Utah has become the target of vandals, who threw rocks at the window with the attached message "Stop spreading your lies, pagans." Police do not have any suspects, but they are already discussing whether or not hate crime charges will be filed. • Speaking of hate crimes, there is a growing push to amend New York state hate crime laws so that they protect transgender individuals. • After escaping an abusive boyfriend in 1998, Kalyn Risker found the Detroit non-profit Sisters Acquiring Financial Empowerment, to help other domestic abuse survivors learn skills to reenter the workforce and break their financial dependence on their abuser. The program is in high demand, since Detroit only has one domestic violence shelter but has seen a 7% increase in domestic violence cases this year. • Have you ever wondered why there are no calorie counts on cat food? According to The New York Times, it's because many pet foods haven't been tested for digestibility and true content per can. A 10 pound cat needs roughly 200-400 calories, but the best way to tell if it's eating enough is just to see if maintains a normal weight. • Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger has signed a bill commemorating Harvey Milk for being the first openly gay politician elected to public office in California. Under the measure Milk's birthday, May 22, would be proclaimed a day of significance by the governor each year. "He really saw this signing as a way to honor the gay community in California," said a spokesman. •

That young lady plans to start 7th Grade in "jeans and a white embroidered shirt from Abercrombie & Fitch." Adds the Washington Post,

Starting middle school is a turning point in the lives of many girls. In addition to the thrill of having their first lockers, they quickly transition from allowing their moms to buy them "cute coordinated outfits" at department chains to doing their own shopping at a handful of stores their friends have deemed cool.

Or not. I remember clearly the shame of starting Middle School in Gap Kids, my growth spurt (such as it was) still three years away. Other girls arrived, sleek and glamorous in black stovepipe pants, or effortless in frayed flares and Abercrombie button-downs.

But the thrill of "back-to-school" clothes never dies. Sure, maybe you've lost the chance to impress everyone with new height or a new guise, but the sense of renewal is eternal. Fall is the sartorial New Year, and not just in the High Holy Days sense. There is, always, a sense of opportunity and reinvention. In the past, it's when I've decided to spend the year based on Sylvia Beach, in T-straps and cardigans; or, later, "early-80's Harlequin Romance heroine pre-makeover." This year I'm basing my look on Angela Lansbury in Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Even if working from home doesn't exactly justify a sharp new wardrobe, I can't resist the lure of at least one piece of corduroy or plaid.

"When people think of Kristina Batal, I want them to think, 'Oh, she's someone you can count on. She has a great fashion sense. She's a good friend,' " said Kristina, 12, who is excited — nervous-excited — about starting seventh grade at Robert Frost Middle School in Fairfax on Tuesday.

Of course, Kristina Batal will learn, one day, that the clothes aren't magic. That they should be for fun and self-expression rather than disguise and talisman. And that they'll never have the power they seem to right now. That if you show up in an ill-fitting flannel dress and feel conspicuously awful and babyish, you can still grow into a confident, happy woman who doesn't feel embarrassed when she walks into a room of her peers. But that there are always fresh starts - and really awesome cardigans.

Flip-Flop Fashionistas Find Their First-Day Way [Washington Post]

The Fail's Louise Chunn writes a moving first-person account of her journey from the confines of "a fashion-forward greige silk dress, very loose cut, with sleeves over the elbow and hem just skimming the knee" to the cleavage-enhancing embrace of clothes her husband and male friends approve of. Dressing for a friend's party, she jettisons the dress and reflects "I know [my husband] likes me in a pair of close-cut, dark denim, cropped jeans I recently bought in New York - as he tells me so virtually every time I wear them." So she dons the jeans, plus peep-toe heels, and rejoices: "I had more than enough flattering comments and looks to make me acknowledge that I had made the right decision." Chunn explains,

I am not saying that every last item in your wardrobe ought to be chosen with an eye on men's fantasy fashion league, but going to a party with a partner who likes what you're wearing is surely a more pleasing proposal than sticking to your fashion guns, come hell or high water.

I know it's a figure of speech, but shouldn't Chunn's husband "like her" no matter what she wears? And is every sartorial decision really a choice between pleasing men and being a slave to fashion? What about pleasing yourself? According to Chunn's "fashion editor friend, Lisa Armstrong," that concept doesn't exist. She says,

Very roughly, you could say that fashion falls into clothes to get you laid, and clothes that you wear for other women.

Zzzz. Has anyone not heard some lame guy at a party spout the old "women dress for other women" line? Can't a fashion editor do better? Well, sort of, and sort of not. Armstrong continues:

In the Eighties, you were dressing to show you were successful and had status. Nowadays, the aim among many women is to show that you have a fantastic body.

It's not clear whether "showing you a fantastic body" is something you do to shame other women or to seduce men. But Armstrong, like Chunn, stolidly ignores the idea that fashion might be, like, fun. I for one always find strict definitions of sexy clothing to be the exact opposite of fun. After an adolescence during which I frequently tried to dress "hot" and usually felt awkward, I've come to terms with the fact that I have small boobs and skinny legs, and the "tight, shiny, black, with buckles" aesthetic that Dr. Alex Comfort recommends to Chunn usually makes me look like a slightly weathered, gothed-out twelve-year old. I always chafe when men — or women — tell me to dress "sexier," because I don't feel sexy in black or revealing clothes. And I know I'm actually more attractive when I'm not constantly tugging my hemline and feeling like a poser.

There's a deeper issue here than attractiveness, of course. Women dress for a lot of different reasons — and hopefully, plenty of these reasons are their own. Sure, sometimes women want to impress their husbands/dates/fuck-buddies. But in a world where we get plenty of unwanted "comments and looks" no matter what we wear (as anyone who's been cat-called while wearing a parka knows), is it so strange that we might not want to look "sexy" every damn day? That we might want to look interesting, cool, funky, serious, scary, even ugly? And that our reasons for this might not have anything to do with pleasing other people? Yes, clothing is public, and people often get dressed with the expectation that they will be looked at. But the assumption that every fashion decision can be categorized into sexy or not sexy is pretty simplistic — it makes both sex and fashion sound a lot more boring than they are.

Why Is Fashion Such A Passion Killer? [Daily Mail]

Take this buffalo check shirt, for instance. The pattern was proclaimed as being "everywhere this season" by the LA Times in November 2008. Silll, buffalo check is actually for sale in Topshop right now, and Delia's is carrying it too. Original? No. But no one can beat the (frighteningly) low $12 price tag Miley and Max are offering.

Another item from Miley Cyrus & Max Azria: Liquid leggings. American Apparel pushed these in 2007; When seen on Nicky Hilton in February 2008, we were instantly over them; Miley seems to think they've got life in them yet! Miley gushes: "I'd say anyone from age 8-80 can enjoy this line." Maybe she means "as a source of amusement"?

Leopard comes and goes, from Van Halen to Katy Perry. But we've definitely seen leopard print pants or leggings recently at Urban Outfitters, and at TopShop, Alloy and Delia's.

Of course the kids shopping for Miley's clothes are too young to remember Ginger Spice's Union Jack dress, or Austin Powers' Shaguar, and Lord knows they don't know anything about The Who, but you've got to wonder: Why would Max Azria want to do a Brit flag shirt? Does he just like keeping up with what the kids like? Or does he suspect that — priced at a very affordable $7.00 — this item will fly out of stores?

The ruffled blouses in this collection — in red, white, blue and purple — are actually quite charming, and priced at 12 bucks — well below what J. Crew is asking for a very similar style, though J. Crew's are silk. But the point is: When a world-famous designer who has designed for Hervé Léger, BCBG and his own eponymous labels teams up with a Disney Teen Queen, the results are generic, run-of-the-mill but probably people-pleasing — just like a Hannah Montana song.

SNEAK PEEK: Miley Cyrus & Max Azria's Design Collaboration! [People]
Miley Cyrus & Max Azria [Wal-Mart]

Shades of gray are gorgeous, so is the wind-swept scenery. Too bad it's so humid right now that merely looking at that sweater is giving me hives.

Ah, to be a well-tailored writer, pensive at a typewriter, instead of a muumuu-wearing blogger, snarky at a Mac.

This silk ruffled cami is so pretty, even if you're feeling ixnay on the paper-bag waist skirt. Of course, on some people, a silk cami means underarm sweat stains, and a general feeling of discomfort, but that's neither here nor there.

Look at all the colors!

"Jenna's picks" are predictably pale, soft and ladylike; but any whimpering you may hear is me, wanting that "Libretto" necklace very badly. (Click "full size" to enlarge photo.)

Whimper. Whimper. Whine. Whine.

Maybe I'm closed-minded and behind the times, but when I see these doo-doo brown, misshapen, ortho-fug shoes, one word comes to mind, and that word is: Ew. (Then I see the $225 price tag, and I think: LOL.)

These shorts are pictured with herringbone tights and just one of several pairs of shorts shown with tights. Is this the part of the anti-pants agenda?

More shorts with tights, modeled by someone who looks like Jennifer Jason Leigh in Fast Times.

What we have here, friends is some "creative" styling. She is wearing rhinestones and sweatpants. But that's not all! The caption reads: "Paris Drawstring Pant. Our stylist cut these off and rolled them up." I think it looks ridiculous, but apparently they consider it a serving suggestion?

Once you get over the fact that it's preposterous to purchase something which has already been destroyed, decide if J. Crew is trying to push thinspiration: These jeans are "matchstick"; the ones on the next page are "toothpick": and they are all set off by "superskinny" belts.

How do this dress and these shoes work together, unless she is headed to a prom slash pow wow?

Ew. There's the Ew Shoe. It is Ew.

The wedding/party dresses always manage to be light, ethereal, feminine and cut curiously small in the bust.

But the colors! The colors are fresh and juicy.

Although this is more like what I would wear if I still Ieft the house.

Hey look! Free shipping on multi-culti kids! (Click "full size" to enlarge photo.)

Time to place an order.

[J. Crew]

Earlier: Summer At J. Crew: Pretty, Pastel, Pricey
The WASPiest Items In "Vineyard Vines"
5 Hideous Things Urban Outfitters Wants You To Wear This Summer
May Anthropologie Catalog: Totally Watered Down

The truth of this assertion was borne out to me when my boyfriend and I went shopping to supplement his wardrobe of two pair of Dickies with something lighter. He tried on some inexpensive cargo shorts: a frat boy stood before me. Slim seersucker knee-lengths transformed him into the veriest urban fop. Hemmed denim, meanwhile, made him feel like a middle-schooler, and one who sported Tevas at that.

Now, this will raise hackles. I'm sure many have husbands and boyfriends and friends and brothers who sport each of these styles quite creditably. My own dad is as wont to pull on a pair of the Abercrombie cargo shorts my brother discarded in high school (the latter now wears only skintight jeans even in high summer) as some diminutive pair he bought in the 70s as the denim varietal my mom gets him - all accessorized with black socks pulled all the way up the leg, of course. Obviously plenty of men can transcend the tyranny of style.

It's funny; we don't think of menswear being as transformative - or as fraught - as our daily clothing decisions. But here I saw my boyfriend, who normally doesn't think about clothes, feeling as ill at ease and confused as I often do in a dressing room. And it was weird that something so seemingly functional and basic should provoke the anxiety. In the end, he just lopped the legs off one of his two pairs of pants and called it a day, effectively bowing out. And I've heard other guys express a strange anxiety over shorts: several just don't wear them. "Short pants are for children," said one cryptically, although he's not known for opining about such things. Another revealed, in confidence, that someone once said he had skinny legs, and now he doesn't like to show them. Don't get me wrong, I know plenty of women who aren't into shorts, but that sort of anxiety and consideration is not unique, for us, to summer.

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.No Pants - Sometimes. I'm on record in my opposition to the exposed-ass look, but sometimes there's nothing like a men's shirt and gams for pure sex appeal. Just ask Elaine Stritch.


The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Color - a lot of it. So what if everyone looks at you? You're brightening their day - and they're looking on your terms.


The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Absurdly Big Hair. If you're lucky enough to have an old-school beauty shop nearby, they'll know how to crank out a classic beehive, and cheaply enough that you can just rock it for an evening to the movies. There is nothing like the supreme confidence of absolutely stiff hair. And yes, wigs are awesome too - plus an afternoon in a good wig shop is an afternoon well spent.


The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Completely Unique Makeup. Anyone can be "flawless." Lynn Yaeger's made a career of looking totally like her vision of herself. And for something that would seem to be self-conscious, it's done totally un-self-consciously. Isn't that really the key?


The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Golden Girls chic. Which one, you ask? Well, you really can't go wrong: from bedazzled sweat suits to big-shouldered power jackets to leopard-print caftans, nothing says confidence like a little mid-80's Miami heat. And if it matters to you, this is actually a good look for hipster-heavy situations, because no one knows what to make of it and so, fearing what they don't understand, automatically respect and fear you. Also: easy to source at thrift stores.


The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.Wear an Enormous Hat. Bring the hat back. It's bold. It's completely gratuitous. It's the sort of thing that, unless you're in a costumey phase, you simply don't do as a teenager. Because being grown-up is wonderful.



What Not To Wear Beyond Your Teens [MSN]

The average dame will, apparently, spend a ton of time deciding what to wear for a "night on the town," devote hours to packing for a trip, and try on two getups in the morning before work. Says a study spokesguy, "Whatever the occasion your clothes portray an image and we understand this is fundamentally important to women." Thank you for understanding. And may we presume this study is restricted firmly to the First World? The burden of choice hangs heavy.

In fact, that quote seems to me like an oversimplification. I'd guess that most of this deliberation is rooted, not in insecurity, as that statement suggests, but in practicalities and, conversely, fantasy. There are the tights that turn out to have a run, the blouse that turns out to have a stain, the scarf that doesn't quite cover the stain, the skirt that actually didn't "steam out" in the shower, the perfect belt that's gone missing under a pile of dirty laundry. This adds up over a lifetime.

And then there's the dress-up element. "Portraying an image?" Well, yeah, but this can mean a lot of things. It's often a far less conscious and more emotional process than this, and a more pleasurable one. The point of clothes, I think, is not being seen - it's those moments of decision before you step out the door, when each piece is loaded with possibility and potential. Dressing in a vacuum, at the end of the day, can be the most rewarding kind. Think of it as time with yourself: in those Pollyanna terms, it's a year well spent. And, yes, a luxury.

Women spend nearly one year deciding what to wear [Telegraph]

One fashion insider has seen the light, and with the zeal of a convert, is preaching the Gospel of sustainability! A former influential fashion editor, Charty Durrant writes in Resurgence mag,

As a fashion editor of twenty years' standing I have found it extremely uncomfortable to admit that the seemingly harmless fashion industry is actually driving our demise. It is at the heart of all that ails us; pull at any social or environmental thread, and it will lead you back to the fashion industry.

We've talked a good bit about the consequences of fast fashion and the virtues - green, moral, aesthetic, and philosophical - of returning to a simpler and higher-quality way of being. A few months ago, I forswore fast fashion, and, Katy Perry-style, I liked it. The first few weeks were embarrassingly challenging, since I was used to breezing through Forever21 on my lunch break, or picking up basics at H&M. But weighing purchases, buying for quality and thinking about what I need have, in fact, saved me some money and made me feel better about what I wear. I went into Forever21 last week, by way of experiment, and I was shell-shocked: stuff felt so crappy! All the mass-market creativity looked so soulless! I bought a $7 necklace!

I got my just desserts when I got a rash, and then it hooked on the back of a chair and broke. But it did underscore the challenges of giving up easy gratification. Even stepping into that Forever21, I began to doubt myself, to crave novelty, to need a hit of of-the-minute. Which, apparently, runs pretty deep as we've come to take constant novelty as our due. Says Durrant,

As the ‘trend frenzy' deepens, we can see that fashion is no longer about style and self-expression: it is primarily about judgment – self-judgment and judgment of others. A toxic media reporting how women ought to look, and celebrity obsession further enforce this strange new paradigm...In the end the true antidote is to adopt an attitude of voluntary simplicity. A manner of living and being that is outwardly more simple and inwardly more rich. A way of being in which our most authentic and alive self is brought into direct conscious contact with every part of our lives.

That's all well and good. But the sad truth is that things aren't quite this simple, and she's talking about two issues, the philosophical and the gray-shaded reality. I used to be all about the boycotts, but a global industry is built on the backs of our fast fashion addiction, and wearing locally made, good-quality clothing in New York doesn't guarantee a better life for anyone - in many cases, quite the opposite. If we boycott, it must be mindfully - and not in a vacuum. Inaction, at the end of the day, is still that. Yes, research companies, and support those fighting the good fight and running good factories, rewarding and reinforcing rather than just punishing. Is "fast fashion" bad? Sure, but as a phenomenon, it's less evil than the specifics of unsafe, unsanitary working conditions or companies who fail to pay a living wage. We need to think not just of our own souls and worthiness, but of real issues like the economic viability of those people who produce clothing. Boycott? Simplify? Yes. But also research, donate, and be mindful of shades of gray. Most of all, let's break our addiction to easy answers.

Dressing Ourselves To Death [Utne]
The Tyranny Of Trends [Resurgence]

Organic And Fair Trade Clothing Directory [Resurgence]

Related: Do You Know Where Your Clothes Come From?
We Love Cheap Stuff, But Fast Fashion Is Hard To Defend
Slow Hand: Native American Dresses, Forever21, Kilts, And The Recession

We've always been kind of fascinated by personal shoppers, and the Topshop team - who deal in the lexicon of high fashion and the budgets of fast fashion - are a particularly fascinating breed. Describes the Times,

The creative style of the sales staff helps to create that illusion.
..Requirements include an exuberant sense of personal style, the ability to size up customers and explain what styles would best fit their body types, a bubbly personality and, above all, an encyclopedic knowledge of what Nicole Richie, Peaches Geldof and Sarah Jessica Parker wore when last picking up coffee at Starbucks. To sell Topshop, they must encourage shoppers, usually during two-hour appointments that are booked weeks in advance, to try things they would never think of wearing.

The team seems to be super-qualified: the piece describes former stylists and design students, all, naturally, hip to the point of pain. It's obvious, from what the piece describes, that, by example, enthusiasm and sheer force of cool, they bear customers along with their confidence, making them believe that they are people who'd wear a lycra mini with a clown's ruff, neon chef's hat and polka-dot fanny pack. Having been prey to the lure of this phenom at "Topshop, Oxford Circus, Lon-Don" more than once, and suffered some serious buyer's remorse stateside, I was girded for my first trip to the New York flagship, dressed not only in a marginally absurd outfit myself (so as better to fly under the radar) but prepared to resist the peer pressure and help others do the same.

While my coonskin cap (vintage- from my brother's toy chest) and 70s artist smock elicited admiring comments from several employees, I quickly got on their bad side: not long after I'd entered, I saw a timid-looking girl, clearly from out of town, being pressured, I felt, into getting a strange dress. She looked uncomfortable, but a team of arch hipsters was assuring her of the look's awesomeness. I could see her doubt eroding under their persuasion: maybe she could be this person, she was thinking. Maybe this was the beginning of a new life. As a former retail professional, I felt it my duty to interject. "Here's what I like to ask myself," I said in a friendly fashion. "Can I picture this in my real life? Will I think about it if I don't buy it? After all, it's only a bargain if you wear it!" She, her mother, the hipster children stared at me blankly. Who is this stranger in a Davy Crockett hat and why is she talking to me? said the girl's eyes. A few minutes later, I saw her buying the dress. Clearly the magic had not extended to me.

Trust Me. You'll Look Cool in This. [NYTimes]

When it comes to their mother's appearance, all daughters have views, ranging in ferocity from mildly scathing to fathomless reservoirs of scorn. That surely is the point of them. When they're not mewling, wingeing or bitching (depending what point of the evolutionary trajectory they're on), isn't their main function to set their mothers straight sartorially?

So, in the pursuit of cuteness, a few fashionistas lets their daughters dress them for an arbitrary amount of time. What follows is a run-down of "kids say the darndest things" slams of mom's trendy clothes or tired looks. Five year olds deck them out in gowns and clashing hues; one tells her mother to grow her hair and wear more pink. The author ultimately decides that, for all their lack of sophistication, "children can be remarkably perceptive about appearances and fearless, if not entirely precise, when it comes to expressing their reservations."

Then we see the flip side of the dynamic, when Armstrong "bonds" with her teenage daughters over clothes.

I often ask - and sometimes take - their counsel and try not to proffer my advice unless asked for, except when they insist on flashing dazzling amounts of cleavage, which they all seem to, or going out into a snowdrift without coats. Terrified of shunting them into an eating disorder, I initially banned myself from saying "Have you seen the size of your bottom in that?" but I have become more forthright recently, particularly with the trend for metallic neon leggings and the not entirely felicitous effect they have on the family's legs unless worn with long tops.

Um, ugh. Just reading that gave me sympathy chills, reminding me of an age when a mother's criticism was capable of filling me with a rage and hurt and confusion far disproportionate to its intent. Of wanting to please but resenting any suggestion; of knowing my own mother was not someone a teenage girl should be taking style tips from, but unable to not care what she thought. This piece, for all its surface levity, is a good illustration of the complicated evolution of the mother-daughter dynamic. What's cute and straightforward with an artless little girl becomes fraught and nasty when ten years are added to the mix. Suddenly it's "the family's legs" - oddly, as the daughters move away from her sphere of influence, she identifies with them more explicitly. Because, as we all know, it's not just clothes: when she criticizes her teenagers she's implicitly commenting on their generation, their tastes, their judgment, just as a daughter's asserting autonomy and guard-changing in all the approved ways. And let's face it: this isn't just any mom, but rather one whose business is at least partially fashion and who defines herself by what she wears. The subtexts are uncomfy, to say the least.
Should mums take style tips from their daughters? [London Times]