Not Another Hot Take... But a State of Mind
Margiela, menswear, musings and when the point simply becomes moot.
The weather in NYC continues to be a (literal) cry for help. Grey skies and wet grimy streets make for a less-than-ideal backdrop. In mental opposition, I spent a lot of the last week trying to rediscover my spring/summer button-ups for a pop of color (I’ll circle back to this in another newsletter), before ultimately tapping into my neutrals for the weekend.
All this rain, snow, and sleet, has confined me to spending evenings dabbling between indoor activities (a chilled red and 8-ball). Amid these pastimes, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about my desires and self-expectations and what I’ve truly learned during this lengthy period that I’ve spent growing up on the internet.
I sometimes fret that I don’t do enough on here (“here” being the World Wide Web). That my online presence falls short and leaves something to be desired. I can never seem to fully commit to wriggling out of my comfort zone and stepping into a much bolder, more delulu iteration of Devi. But lately, I’ve been asking myself, “Do I have to?”. Do I need to strive and change the person I inherently am (which is sickeningly private) just to do the things I desperately love on the internet and irl? In a recent talk I attended, Dev Hynes expressed a sentiment that resonated with me deeply. I’ve got a lot of drive, but not necessarily ambition. I don’t jockey for fame or notoriety, these aspirations tend to easily bore me— I do however feel it’s of the utmost importance to know and do my shit, fashion, learning, traveling, whatever that shit may be, well.
Some Monthly Musings…
Somehow it’s still January (I know), but I’ve tasked myself with not leaning into the discourse of time dragging or flying by. To speak of it would only mean to make it true, right? Instead, I’m enjoying what these last 94 days of January have left rumbling around in my brain and belly.
Menswear
I take it we’ve all seen Pharrell’s Americana motif-riddled LV show by now, and what about Dior menswear? KIM JONES DOES IT AGAIN!!!!! Gucci’s new creative director, Sabato De Sarno, single-handedly reviving the skinny scarf, and transforming trendy pieces like mariner chains into ultra-gaudy statement necklaces.
I love menswear, but I probably don’t give it the attention it deserves. I think the men of Hollywood don’t give it the attention it deserves either. But I love to stan the fashionably inclined musicians who do know how to show up and show out in a good two-piece.
Menswear often feels like the wild wild west, anything goes, the lines between fashion law abiders and rule-breakers blur at strange junctures, and designers throw things at a wall to see what temporarily sticks. I admire it a lot for that very reason. The trial and error of it, but with all the intentionality in the world. I invest a considerable amount of time reviewing and deconstructing these runway looks too, pinpointing the pieces that I’d love to fold into my wardrobe.
Maison Margiela Artisanal Collection
Margiela…. What is there left to say that hasn’t already been said? Gone have been the days of what I often call ‘mind’ fashion— dressing for yourself by yourself because you want to wear that something. By contrast, we’ve too long been strapped into a light-speed bullet train of trends with no end in sight. We haven’t needed to think about a body of work or the inherent criticality of a collection because we simply decided there wasn’t enough time to. In place of the dialog, the next trend is churned out, and we rinse and repeat until we forget.
John Galliano however will not let you wash your hands of the artisanal craftsmanship that goes into the very fibers and being of Margiela’s brand DNA. He does away with those attributing a premature name to his collection and instead builds a story around it— lets the story unfold: metal hands, soft breasts, curved hips, frozen faces— and delivers to the audience a work that asks, begs even, for us to feel, think, long for something for once.
He refutes the easily consumable and reminds us that he’s still the goat of haute couture, deserving of the respect he has so painstakingly earned.
And look, I’m not here to give anyone a dissertation by any means. All I can say is that it’s a show meant to be watched and not just experienced through the images (if you can help it)!
Minor Alterations?
In a step towards more intentionality, I’m trying to make a point (to and for myself) that the clothes I keep around me feel good, aren’t ill-fitting, and don’t disappear into the back of my closet.
Part of that journey means taking pieces to the tailor or cobbler to be fitted to me. I just took a vintage fur jacket in for alterations and I’m nervously awaiting the changes. I kept trying it on and something looked so wrong (think Hunchback of Notre Dame). It was only after I had a couple of friends try it too, that I realized the amount of fur on the coat collar was dwarfing my neck and swallowing my chin. I was giving total Uncle Fester from the front and side (╥﹏╥).
I like the piece so much. I was seriously in total awe when I unboxed it. It’s from Fox & Fawn, and there’s undoubtedly no other NYC consigner with an eye like Marissa’s. So, I earnestly hope I love the changes, because I’ve put in just about the same money as the cost of the jacket itself. Please pray to the tailoring gods for your girl! Maybe that’ll give me enough encouragement to show you what I looked like in it before (it was sooo bad LOL). More on that to come...
Ma Chére…
I’ll conclude this brain babble with a parting encouragement to read! more! books! If you’ve reached this far, then I truly appreciate that you’ve journeyed through this letter. Yet, I’ll argue that nothing slaps quite like an unexpectedly good book. The pleasure of challenging one’s brain is unparalleled. During bouts of writer's block, my escape route leads me to the nearest McNally Jackson. My current tome: I’m just about caught up to Simon Haisell’s slow read of Leo Tolstoy’s War & Peace, and every crack of the spine fills me with elation. The way my tongue is asked to twist and tug in Russian and French… I love it. Tolstoy’s overscrupulous manner of storytelling is a straight-up feast for jocund-bellied beasts.
To more book clubs and clothing that fits you perfectly. Happy dressing x