Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Plastic Pussies Make Me Puke

Anyone else sick of teeny tiny yet tall toothpick super models owning the runways? I mean, why can't we have variety? I'm not saying fuck em' all and replace them with big gals. I'm saying we should mix it up, throw in all sorts of shapes and sizes. THAT is real beauty. There is no beauty in a flock of skin and bones. Variety is a beautiful thing and, I think, more interesting to look at then the typical runway body frame. When you've seen one stick thin 90 pound body you've seen them all. They just look like bones with fake titties or absolutely none. Nobody stands out in a crowd like that besides skin tone. Robots. Sheep. Mannequins. An obscure definition of what 'beauty' is. A death wish to girls that want to be 'perfect'. WE ARE LIVING IN REALITY- SO LET'S GET REAL. People stand out when they're among others that are different from them. One red brick does not stand out in a wall made of all red bricks. Make a wall out of all sorts of stone, and suddenly it becomes art. Suddenly it catches your eyes. Mixed media. I haven't the slightest clue how this idea hasn't caught on until now. This is an article I spotted on Yahoo! from Newsweek earlier today. I found it quite interesting and exciting- perhaps you will too.



Rise Of the Real People

Scott Schuman is prowling SoHo, camera over his shoulder, looking for subjects for his photo blog of street fashion. He spots a promising model: a girl with long, shiny hair, wearing high heels midday on a Saturday—two signs, he says, of a fashionista. But ultimately he decides her look is "a little too Nordstrom." Instead, he shoots a bearded man wearing a brown puffer coat that cinches at the waist. The image, when posted on Schuman's blog, The Sartorialist, draws more than 70 comments about the coat: a good response, but hardly unusual—a single photo on the site can attract posts from hundreds of fashion-savvy commenters, who hotly debate the length of a jacket cuff or the fold of a pocket square.

Schuman is part of a growing group of bloggers posting pictures of fashion as worn by real people around the world. (Schuman needn't be too worried about the competition: he has a monthly page in GQ and two book deals in the works, and last week's opening of a show of images from his blog drew a line down the block.) Bloggers say their sites (Street Peeper, Last Night's Party, Fashionista and Stylesight, to name a few) are both creating and responding to interest in street fashion. "The Look Book," a collection of photographs of fashion-conscious New Yorkers originally published in New York Magazine, came out last September, and one of its subjects is already a star: AndrĂ© J., a bearded cross-dresser, graced the November cover of French Vogue. Merlin Bronques, who posts photos of trendy clubgoers on his blog, Last Night's Party, has shot his friends for ads for Ben Sherman and Converse. Now real people are even strutting the catwalk—the swimwear company Lycra plucked 20 women of all shapes and sizes off the beach to model their suits at last year's Miami Swim Fashion Week.

Fashion-industry folks say the trend of using real people to sell clothes attests to a fatigue with skinny, expressionless models in ads and on runways. As proof, they point to the negative publicity surrounding the painfully thin models at last spring's Fashion Week. "I definitely think there's some backlash amongst people who see fashion shows, then read stories about how the models have to smoke themselves to death and only drink lemon water for six weeks," says Simon Rogers, head of Ugly New York, a casting agency for "real"-looking models. "People would like to see somebody up there who reflects how people on the street really look." (The TV show "Ugly Betty" echoed this sentiment in a recent episode where Betty staged an "alternative" fashion show with nonprofessional models.) Now, with New York's Fall 2008 Fashion Week arriving this week, fashion watchers say we may begin to see subtle indications of the trend on the runway: the models will still be thin and gorgeous, but they may look more like thin, gorgeous versions of real people than like stereotypical models. "In the '80s and '90s, models were expected to look glamorous and clean, like Niki Taylor and Christy Turlington," says Faran Krentcil, former editor of Fashionista. "Now people want girls wearing concert T shirts and jeans they've patched themselves—girls who have an appeal that goes beyond how pretty they are." In other words, the demand is for models who exude personal style, whether they're wearing their own ratty duds or haute couture.

Much of this interest in real-looking models is driven by the Internet, which has democratized the once rarefied world of high fashion. "Fashion shows used to be for a very small number of people, very exclusive," says "Look Book" editor Amy Larocca. "Now you can see them an hour later on the Internet. Everyone can be involved." Larocca also links the increased accessibility of fashion to the number of high-end designers creating affordable lines for mass-market stores, such as Isaac Mizrahi's collection for Target, as well as reality shows such as "Project Runway."

Clothing companies are responding to the trend by seeking real people who look at home in the clothes being sold. "With the photos for Ben Sherman, I put the clothes on friends I knew who already wore Ben Sherman," says photo-blogger Bronques. It helps, of course, that Bronques happens to have some pretty great-looking friends. "The most successful brands know how to fuse what's happening on the street with their product," says Krentcil. "But if you don't look good in clothes, you're not going to sell them." And herein lies the sticking point: even designers who would embrace real models on runways face obstacles. Designers typically can make their clothes for the shows in only one or two sizes, negating the possibility of showing them on a range of body types. Rogers of Ugly New York says he's had inquiries about his models for Fashion Week but had no confirmed bookings yet.

Still, there's no denying that change is in the air. While Ben Sherman won't be showing at fashion week, Dana Dynamite, VP of marketing, says the brand is enthusiastic about using real models on catwalks in the future. Response to the ads, she says, has made her a believer: "People on blogs are saying we're so much cooler now that we did this."

© 2008 Newsweek, Inc.



Yes, this truly made me smile. I'm actually really interested in contacting Simon Rogers/Ugly New York to get a bit more info on them and how they work. Maybe there's hope for me to be struttin' my stuff on the big time catwalk after all! I'd always hoped this outlook would spring up, and what luck that it's during my life time. Maybe it'll fizzle out and go back to blah, but if this 'trend' sticks around it'll better the entire world, I think. It gives all sorts of gals (and guys!) a chance to shine and show the world how many forms of beauty there really are. Time to take off those rose colored glasses and crush them beneath our feet.

I also saw some dumb ass post a response to the article saying that skinny people are more healthy than 'fat' people, and that basically normal people aren't fit to do the kind of job sticks do. Say whaaa?? Come on now, I am just shocked that anyone could be that ignorant. Body types don't go from fat to skinny. What about the in between? And who's to say being overweight makes someone unhealthy? Skinny bitches that hardly eat and inject heroin between their toes and under their nails aren't healthy just because they're slim. Why do people associate health with size? And I'm not saying all skinny girls or runway models use drugs or don't eat. My friend Kel is proof of that. She is gorgeous and she eats what she wants when she wants. And yes, she's also a model (and an amazing one at that). She's worked the runway at many events and even graced New York Fashion Week with her presence. But for anyone 'unlucky' enough to be born with a fuller body, slow metabolism, and dreams of doing what Kel has done, they'll be under a lot of pressure to lose as much weight as they can as quickly as possible. For a lot of girls that means crash diets, drugs, anorexia, bulimia, or just not eating a damn thing. What kind of a life is that? All just to get the gig. All because of the warped perspective the fashion industry has had for far too many years. These people have lost touch with reality. You don't walk down the street and see an army of Kate Moss look-a-likes. And if you do, run- because they're probably killer robots sent to take over the world.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Delicious Digs & What's Bad for the 'Big'

Has anyone else noticed clothing lines that mass produce their styles are seemingly oblivious to the fact that skinny girl styles do NOT look good on the plus size girl just because they made it in her size? Different bodies have different shapes, and what looks good on a stick doesn't look so fab on a more curvacious figure. I think if they want to take a slim cut style and make it available to the plus sized they should at least re-work the cut/pattern of the fabric. The neckline, the length, the over all shape of it, and even the print. Apparently that's too much work for those that cut corners to make an extra buck or two. For example: Big gals should NOT wear tube tops. Conceal that pit fat, honey! It just doesn't look good, and when you think they're looking at your tits- they're really gawking at your flaps of pit flab. Nobody wants that, right? So try a halter top that has plenty of coverage, and a v neck will be oh-so flattering to your collar bones and chest. Also the thick cotton beater-cut tanks are wonderful, especialy with the low rounded neckline.

I see so many girls wearing the wrong styles. Just because it's "in" it doesn't mean it looks good on everyone. I don't care how much you like that tiny little butterfly cut belly-bearing beaded tank top, it's going to look gross as hell with a gut hanging out below it. You can look just as sexy- if not more- wearing something with coverage and detail in all the right places. I know how it is; I was a big gal once, too. 230 pounds, and I'm down to 130 now. Long journey that was, and I can't tell you just how pleased I am (and my boyfriend) with the way I currently look. Being able to wear most whatever I want is something I use to think would never happen, and shopping was my worst nightmare. Especially pant shopping. What a horrible experience that was, crying in dressing room stalls and cussing out Jesus- that motherfucker.

And then there's sneaky brands like Abercrombie and Fitch that label their jean sizes so you think you're much smaller than you really are. A size 8 would be a size 6, so suddenly your ego boosts and you think you've lost some weight. The number on the tag means absolutely nothing, though. What matters is how it fits and flatters your form. I had a friend that refused to acknowledge she was a size 11 and would constantly wear a size 9. She had love handles galore and a stomache that busted over the waist band. Maybe she felt smaller, but she sure as hell didn't look it. Most of my friends say they never noticed I was that overweight, and I think the reason is because I always wore clothing that concealed it, giving me more shape and less bulge. Don't get me wrong, I may sound like I'm bashing on big bodies, but I'm totally not. I love the differences in the shapes of people. It makes the world more interesting and variety is a beautiful thing. Even teeny tiny bodies can look strange and awkward, by no means do I bealieve smaller = better or sexier. I think some good meat on a body is a gorgeous thing, and I wish more women felt okay with their bolder body type rather than feeling they constantly need to lose 5-10 pounds.

And then there are the women that say they can't afford to dress well, or fashionable. Total bullshit, I say. You don't need a thick wallet to wear some cute digs. Most of what I own cost me $5, $10, $20 bucks. I have some adorable full outfits that cost me $15! Excluding shoes of course, though I always snag a bargain on those, too. But one thing that recently dawned on me was the over-all difference between cheap heels and designer heels. The way shoes are built is increadible to me, I can hardly fathom what it takes to make some of the detailed masterpieces out there. But after buying a few pairs of Nine Wests, I tossed aside my cheapo knock-off's and basked in the cushy support of my new killer kicks. Comparing the time it takes my feet to start aching from one pair to the other is insane. I can last hours more in my Nine Wests than in my digs of doom by the Deb shop in my local mall. And I got my Nine's for $25! Originally $70 or so. How fabulous is that? Marashalls is a new bestfriend of mine, the only thing I dislike about it is how messy and unorganized everything appears to be. Definately the kind of place you have to dig around in to find some real gems.

I've noticed lately that I've begun to adopt a more british/chic/couture style since I first bought my black babydoll dress with a peter pan collar. One of my favorite additions to my waredrobe, by far. Dressed up with blue or red stockings it's suuuuper cute ^_^, especially with my platform maryjane shoes. I wish I had some photos for you all, but I haven't had a digital camera for a while and the one that I have now doesn't have a usb cord that fits so I can't upload any of the photos I've taken onto my computer. Major bummer, but I'll hunt one down on the net. I'm sure ebay will have one for a penny or something. Right now the only new photos I have on my computer are taken with my out-of-date web cam that a friend gave me years back. At least I have that, though. Otherwise I might just go mad. I am a major photo taker, and yes, I do some modeling when I can. Perhaps I'll post some of my favorite images for ya'll to check out. Right now I probably don't have anyone viewing my blog, but in time- we'll see.



And now I'm off to do some hardcore knitting!

Monday, January 28, 2008

An introduction, indeed



Hello vast community of blogging bloggers of bloggville, I am Emma Ro and I'll be your host.







I haven't kept an online journal in years but I think it's time I return to this outlet, I sure as hell need it. I guess this is more for my entertainment than yours, but- on the rare chance I somehow start to gain viewers/subscribers- I do hope you enjoy. Where to start, though? I'm not sure what the beginning is, so I'll just start where I'm at.

I'm siting in a slightly broken chair passed down to me by my brother at a computer desk found on the side of the road with a sign that read "Free", on a computer I kept when an online school I went to years back had shut down, while smoking a cigarette from a pack I had to barter drugs for. On my desk lies a lighter- an essential to the cigarettes and bowl of marijuana that sit on either side of it. Marijuana that was most definitely and totally earned and deserved. Next to that there's a camera recently stumbled upon in a box of unclaimed 'Lost and Found' by luck and love, a fairly new cell phone I've been using more and more often, a Poland Spring water bottle empty and aching to be filled again, and THE coolest Batman mug in the entire universe filled half way with delicious hot spearmint/green tea- complimented by just a dash of sugar.

I am exhausted, though I really didn't do much today. I did, however, accomplish quite a bit when it comes to the scarf I'm knitting. Nearly doubled in size since yesterday, it's starting to take shape with the promise of becoming something other than a block of stitches. It's hard to believe this entire thing is made up of one continuous strand of yarn. I think in hyper-speed when I'm in my knitting zone, and it's easy enough I don't have to put much thought into what I'm doing. Sometimes thinking that fast isn't a good thing when your mind wanders off into dark unknown forests with mutant beasts and sharp-toothed lizards. There you're in much more danger than Little Red Riding Hood ever was. And there I was, letting myself drown in strange waters for no real reason. I guess you could call this feeling a panic attack.

Yeah- knitting, panicking, unsure of why. Combinations of feelings, possible reasons, and horrible heaviness. It really is kind of like spiraling down into the deepest part of an ocean and not knowing which way is up or down. I had a lump in my throat for hours, and I fought back tears in an attempt to take control of my emotions. I knew it was irrational, I knew my hormones were raging and my paranoia booming. Missiles went off in all directions while I tried to find safety and solitude under the blankets of my bed. My 2-mattresses-on-the-floor. My cat nap corner. My crater in the shape of my body. My soft worn cotton sheets, and my new fuzzy brown bear addition. I scratch his head like he can really feel it, and gently rub his nose against mine. Eskimo kisses. It calms me down. What triggered this harsh reaction in the first place, I'm not sure. Could be a couple things, but none of them are especially upsetting. Sometimes this shit happens for no reason, I can't explain what I don't understand. It will come in on waves or just tackle me out of nowhere.


Any how, I'm sane again (if sane is what you would call it) and I'm feeling pretty mellow. I've not had one of these episodes in quite a while and it's odd because I just had a conversation about them a couple days ago with a friend. Why now? I'm hoping this doesn't come back full force or worse. I just have to keep my head on straight and let my logic guide me. I try to stay rational, I think it's a wise route to tread. But tomorrow is a wonderfully new day with whatever possibilities I give it, so I'm going to make the best of that. Join me, yeah?

Great.


So now that I've made buddies with my blog I'm going to give it a hug and a kiss on the cheek, say goodnight, fare thee well, and we'll see each other again soon.


Truly,
Emma Ro