TIME TO GET PATRIOTIC
(we’re all having supper tonight)
Finally, the Olympics have arrived and to celebrate this momentous occasion I think we should all indulge in some chauvinistic consumerism. Here is Charlotte Olympia’s London 2012 Perspex clutch, which is nothing less than the crème de la crème of patriotic flare. The interchangeable satin pouches offer whimsicality and versatility – perfect for when the Olympics are over and the hype that surrounds it diminishes to the size of Ryan Lochte’s left nipple.
And lastly, for the sake of patriarchy, where my Thai designers at? I guess THIS will have to suffice – for now.
(Someone call Thakoon, I don’t have his number)
This is that crème de la crème horse-riding-country-girl shit.
We’ve all been there. That moment you realize ‘shit, I have nothing to wear’ and looking through your closet is like looking through a Walmart catalog, or even worse Victoria’s Secret (self-loathing at its prime). Yet you continue to dig through as if that Thakoon dress you found on net-a-porter, but didn’t buy, (let me repeat that: did-NOT-buy) is exquisitely hiding in there… somewhere. (If this has never happened to you, consider yourself the queen of crème de la crème). Sadly, this happens to me every day – sometimes multiple times a day. Yesterday, stands as a case in point, for 20 minutes of my life I was dissecting my wardrobe and speculating where I had placed my Isabel Marant bekket leather and suede sneakers. Today, I was searching for my Peter Pilotto K printed crepe skirt. Tomorrow, I will probably be searching for my Proenza Schouler PS1. I like to call this the net-a-porter effect – similar to the rainbow effect, in which one can see the rainbow, but can never have the rainbow, you see?
Thus far, I have yet to find a solution that does not involve spending the majority of my monthly allowance on net-a-porter, forcing me to live on 5-dollar-footlong subway sandwiches (because, people, that’s bang for your buck right there) for the rest of my monthly existence. As a result, I forced my graphic designer best friend to teach me how to use photoshop, just so that I can create images like this one and this one. This, people, is a true life example of the power of the net-a-porter effect.
So here is what I would’ve worn today if i was cracked out on that rainbow shit. Take note: when I choose what to wear I pick a lead role (that is, the one piece of clothing that you decide will stand out the most – like Brad Pitt in all of his movies. Because you wouldn’t wear Brad Pitt and George Clooney at the same time would you? Yes, you would. Right, so everything I just said: disregard it). Ok, let me start again. Some days I like to keep things simple – so when you want simplicity, pick one lead role. If you want some crème de la crème bad-ass-sass, pick two, three, or four (this seems to be getting a little too corporeal).
In this case, the lead role would be ‘my’ Peter Pilotto K printed crepe skirt, followed by the lead’s right hand man, metallic heels by Arfango and then the right hand man’s right hand man, Roberto Cavalli’s printed jersey t-shirt (are we all still following here?). Finally, finish of the look with accessories, which we’ll call the props. For props we have: Dannijo’s spilk ring, rima bracelet and symson cuff; the black leather bracelet is Gorjana and the clutch is 3.1 Phillip Lim. I realize I may have just applied the concept of film to the concept of style. What does that demonstrate? That style is EVERYWHERE, people. Style is free, even though net-a-porter is not.
So what is it really about the color red that makes it so sexually defining? As per usual, I had no answers – why? Because instead of delving into thought-provoking actualities like this, I choose to read up on (seemingly) more fundamental issues like, ‘why is hippo milk pink?’ and ‘who is Courtney Stodden?’ So, I turned to my life coach (Google) and after vigorously investigating (like the Google Warrior Princess that I am) I came across some answers. Apparently, it all comes down to one thing: fertility. So that’s it people, wearing red lipstick causes men to believe that you are the crème de la crème of fertility. Word.
Now, you may be thinking to yourself: why the crème de la crème is this any kinds of significant? Well, it is. I know there are many of you out there who have (for so long) desired to try this never-ending-always-trending trend of rouge lips. I also know that many of you haven’t acted upon such desires due to a multitude of reasons – looking too ‘provocative’ is most likely one of them.
This is where my short essay on my love for Google starts to garner a point: wearing red lipstick does not suggest that one resides in a brothel-like environment, nor does it imply that one is a lady-of-the-night, concubine, floozy, or any other term that suggests anything less than crème de la crème.
People, wear your lips red and power to all things fertile – including our ovaries and the soil from our gardens.
So let’s just sit and eulogize a couple of (very) crucial things here. First and foremost, the sweet (sweet) marriage of the prussian blue heel, the contrasting monochromatic checkered print and the bad ass black-as-night matte leather frame that frankly screams, ‘I could step on your face and put my cigarette out on your forehead – if I needed to’. I want to wear these. I want to feel the leather embrace my feet. I want to know that I could step on someone’s face and put my cigarette out on their forehead – if need be. But I don’t smoke and (let’s be honest) I don’t own these. This is that crème de la crème shit.
Accompanying my brief analysis, I have compiled a list of special people whom I believe should (and must) buy (and wear) these shoes. I don’t even know if it’s morally OK to categorize such visionary gems under such a characterless term as ‘shoes’, but for the sake of flaunting what little French I know (or googled), I have to say one thing: Proenza Schouler’s pièce de résistance will likely forever be these shoes.
So I guess that’s what we’ll call them, and here’s who should wear ’em:
crème de la crème French (krm d lä krm)
1. Something superlative.
2. The finest of the finest, top of the line shit
example 1 –
Person 1: i heard she goes to USC
Person 2: well that’s some crème de la crème shit right there
example 2 –
Person 1: this tastes like the Louis Vuitton of peanut butters
Person 2: yeh, it’s that crème de la crème shit
example 3 –
Buy THIS and stay sassy
[French : crème, cream + de, of + la, the + crème, cream.]