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I like to think that [my time at Jezebel] is a natural extension of my time [in college], where I spent my time trying to have something to say about the way in which language registers trauma, the way in which Virginia Woolf posited an imagined apocalypse, the way in which James Joyce's Molly Bloom was able to engage in time travel through remembering kisses. Fashion, like literature, like language, is about interpreting a narrative. And being a fashion blogger is about finding what's interesting and what's substantive about this medium, and being unafraid to occasionally remark, "Sorry, but I think this is bullshit." (Which is a statement frequently incurred when presented with...anything, like a bad novel, without a point of view.)...

[T]he really helpful thing, I think, that I got out of my education in the humanities was an awareness of restrictions and liberations afforded by subjectivity. All day long, I write about what I think is "good" and "bad" in regards to that most heinous of phrases, "personal style." But what I'm always trying to remind my readers is that these are just my opinions. I don't really know any more than they do about these things. I just know what I like and what I don't like, and they should be unafraid to have opinions about how they dress themselves too. The unusual thing about covering fashion for a blog as opposed to a print publication is that my readers interact with me in real time. The moment I post something, they're off commenting. In a five minute window I will be told by people I don't [personally] know...that I should quite my job, move to L.A. and become a celebrity stylist, stealing the reigns from Rachel Zoe, and then hear from someone else that I have the worst taste of anyone "ever" and that I should never leave my house. Occasionally, this leaves me amused; frequently this leaves me paranoid.

The internet is still the renegade medium of the publishing world, and oddly even more so of the fashion world, a community that, of all things, prides itself in being more forward thinking, inventive, and creative than the rest of the poor mortals inhabiting the earth. I suspect that part of the resistance is that fashion community has longed thrived on its insular nature, the fact that only the so-called elite who work in it are privy to its ups and downs and changes. The Internet is all about accessibility, which, in my opinion, is what the fashion industry should be about, too. Fashion is fun; It's silly and a little frivolous, sure, but it is also about self-expression and one of the most direct and palpable manifestations of the culture and politics of our age. It's impossible to not see a connection between current events and the way in which 'lady-ism' and prim and proper hyper-feminine silhouettes emerged on the runways following September 11th, showing a desire, perhaps, for older, more conservative and debatably safer times. For Spring 2008 Marc Jacobs...took these dainty lady looks and shredded them to pieces, doing granny suits in sheer fabrics, or with entire panels cut out of the sides and backs. The shoes he showed hand an inverted heel: Though many critics hated the style Jacobs showed, I admired it. To me, it was one of the most vocal cries against conforming to the current political agenda - this desire for the costuming of "safety' and nostalgia - I have seen to date. Getting dressed might not be rocking the vote, exactly, but fashion is a form of art and powerful tool for messages of revolution and rebellion.

Victoria Beckham, however, is not. But the most-trafficked article I ever wrote was, in fact, titled "Victoria Motherfucking Beckham Is Here." It was the liveblog I did from my little Blackberry chronicling each and every second of the Project Runway finale this season...but I really am a great admirer of Ms. Beckham's. She is probably the most influential face in fashion right now which is hilarious because all she ever did, really, was be the worst singer in a cheesy manufactured pop girl group, marry a soccer star, and spend lots and lots of money on clothes. But I think the way she has been championed by the big name fashion magazines and the tabloids alike is, in a perverse way, a good sign for where things are going in the fashion community. Beckham is, really, a sort of everywoman: She is an average girl who made her something into something "important," if you will, essentially though dress. To me, she represents how things ought to be: Any of us can be something more, or at least different, through how we choose to present ourselves through our wardrobe. And Beckham gets this: She knows she's just a front and I respect that, because, really, that's all that fashion is, too. It is only representation.

I also think I have the world's best "people" (my "actual" family and those who are like family to me), all of whom allow me to love what I do because they are a part of my life. (If you are reading this and nodding, you are one of those people, btw.) In particular, I have to thank Matt, who always asked for/feared a post about himself; my parents, who put up with all my mishegas; and Jason, the world's wisest younger brother, who can accomplish anything he sets out to do.

But beyond that — and her putting up with demanding edits, late night emails, two exhausting New York Fashion Weeks, a diagnosis of vertigo, and hundreds of hours watching Martha, The View, and Regis & Kelly — Jen has done a number of features that I think regular readers should revisit and new readers should introduce themselves to. (Readers with other suggestions are welcome to link to them in the comments!) There was her foray into foray into pole-dancing, her tryout for America's Next Top Model, her liveblog from the Project Runway finale in Bryant Park, her experience being silently judged at the Soho Prada store, the Hooters party she hit up last fall, and, my personal favorite, our Label Whores feature, for which Jen sewed designer fashion labels into cheap clothes and tried to sell them to snotty consignment stores. All of these are examples of Jennifer's singular initiative, good humor, intelligence, creativity and energy, for which I will always be grateful. Ralph Lauren is a lucky man. Godspeed, sweetie, and don't forget those polo shirts!

Earlier: You Can Take The Girl Out Of Jezebel But You Can't Take The Jezebel Out Of The Girl

Jennifer and her MoDo iChat avatar are abandoning us for the preppier, more well-financed clutches of Ralph Lauren, where she will be their new Women's Editor — designing, creating and conceptualizing original content for the women's holdings under the RalphLauren.com umbrella. (She will also, hopefully, be sending us free pairs of Madras shorts and brushed-cotton tees that we can wear on our nonexistent yachts during our nonexistent summer vacations with our nonexistent, tow-headed Aryan children.) But she will continue to be found on Jezebel occasionally — she still owes me that May Past Fashion on bridesmaid and flower-girl dresses! — and we will be running small tribute posts to her throughout the week. What I'll say now is that we simply could not have launched this blog without her, and her endless amounts of energy, devotion, and creativity are both enviable and inspiring. We're damn proud of you, Jennifer. I only hope that we've been as good to you as you have been to us.

Earlier: Meet The Editors

1:10 PM
Ok in my seat @ duckie. Swag is a men's shaving kit (with a brush and everything) and a box of RIT dye. Mine is kelly green. I am going to try to spy in other people's bags to see what color they got.

Hmm, Guy next to me got green too. He seems super puzzled by the dye. Dude, aren't we all.

In the front row are these people I was chatting with before: A middle-aged-ish woman and her 13-yr old niece. The older cousin is friends with the designers and they met her cousin and invited her to the show
This is her first-ever fashion show, she told me, and the other kids in school are all really jealous. I am glad her first show is menswear. Now she'll just think fashion is cool and fun and quirky and not about anorexia. Also this crowd seems more...oh, how shall I put it? It's more gay men and less bitchy women.
As opposed to the usual 50-50 split at most shows. Subsequently, there is an air of bonhomie, as opposed to silent judgment, in the air

1:15
Ooh the music is starting. It almost sounds funereal; Lots of organ, think fast-paced phantom of the opera. Ok they're taking the plastic off the runway...

If I were a gay man, this music would make me want to dance around in a g-string and do poppers. Everyone's swaying in their seats to the music. If I didn't know better, I would think this was an episode of Pinky & The Brain. And that the music is here to make us never want to stop swaying in unison so the Brain can take over the world.

1:30
Ok lights are going down...it's starting...They turned the music all the way down. There's a very slim, tailored suit with an full blouse underneath. Very cool. And a wool coat I want for myself! Ooh and this hooded grandpa sweater in green. I would totally wear that.

Everything's in black and grey and green is the only color. Haha, someone just whistled at one of the male models - and considering we're sitting here in silence, it was awkward.

Ah - a purple hat! And a purple suit that almost looks like a dress from behind?

These slouchy knit caps are fierce. I even think I could talk my boyfriend into one of those

1:35 PM
A sheer crochet sweater, however? Not so much. Same goes for the glittery sweater. And the blouses being shown underneath the suiting

And...it's over. I think my straight man would wear the plaid shirt, the windbreaker-puffy jackets, and I would beg him to try one of those hats. And I want a hat and that green sweater for myself, all the way!
Gender roles: who needs 'em?

P.S. Overheard by a fellow attendee exiting the show: "I loved all the papery weirdness!"