Great journalism is all about picking up on those nagging little details always seem to hide, as they say, the cruel radiance of what is: that weird burglary where the suspects turned themselves in to police with some cockamamie Cuba story; those mysterious "partnerships" mentioned opaquely a few inches into the SEC filing; translucent fetsuses and bugs at the Paris shows...
Based on Robin Givhan's coverage of the Paris shows you might think "Alexander McQueen and fetuses" might warrant more than one Google hit.
McQueen got lost in the theatricality of his show, with videos of crawling bugs, translucent fetuses and skulls. He cranked up the soundtrack with jarring music and the sound of nails on a chalkboard...He sent his models out in dreesses molded like an egg...Another had her torso encased in what could best be described as a ready-to-wear iron lung.
One editor suggested that McQueen was not demeaning women but rather underscoring their ability to overcome all obstacles. Even shackles cannot hold them down. Maybe that was his intent. But that analysis sounds like something from the mouth of a "Law and Order: SVU" perp just before the handcuffs are slapped on."
But that's fashion journalism for you! You can win a Pulitzer for attending public events and stating the obvious about them, because all the editors sitting next to you are too dizzy from the water and cocktail napkin diet to think.
And she did. After the jump, some of our fave moments in Robin, who we are not sure we heart as much as yesterday's ladycrush and fellow 2006 winner, Dana Priest.
Threads of Thought [Wash Post]
In 2005, Robin pointed out that Condi Rice was dressing like someone who might be hiding an S&M dungeon in her basement. Duh, right?
When looking at the image of Rice in Wiesbaden, the mind searches for ways to put it all into context. It turns to fiction, to caricature. To shadowy daydreams. Dominatrix!
She also called Dick Cheney out on for dressing like the Bush administration didn't care about Holocaust survivors.
The vice president, however, was dressed in the kind of attire one typically wears to operate a snow blower.
But the quintessential R-Giv column — Michelle Malkin's least fave, natch — is no longer online. It addressed the subject of perpetual train wreck Katherine Harris. Thankfully, the WorldNet Daily excerpts it!
Harris is described as having lips "overdrawn with berry-red lipstick," and of the "creamy sort that smears all over a coffee cup and leaves smudges on shirt collars." Miss Harris' skin, the description continued, "had been plastered and powdered to the texture of pre-war walls in need of a skim coat. And her eyes, rimmed in lines and frosted with blue shadow, bore the telltale homogenous spikes of false eyelashes. Caterpillars seemed to rise and fall with every bat of her eyelid. ...
"Hers were not the delicate individual lashes that can be used to fill out sparse hairs and give the eyes a lush canopy," the text continues. These were "cartoon lashes, destined for a 'Saturday Night Live' skit."
Are you listening, SNL? FETUSES, BUGS, IRON LUNGS, Law & Order SVU.