I love fashion the way many people (including myself) love sports: I follow designers and await their new collections the way fantasy league-ers track the draft and speculate trades. I know a lot of people are fond of turning up their noses at the idea of being a fashion "fan", triumphantly crowing about how superficial and vapid it all is, very similar to the way that pretentious douchebags proclaim that they don't watch T.V. when you ask if they saw the epic season finale of "Dexter". (A simple "no" would suffice. Dick.) Fashion is not just pretty clothes. Hell, sometimes they aren't even that pretty, but that's not exactly the point. Fashion is an art. No, seriously. Those insane, completely unwearable creations that are sent tottering down runways in Paris, Milan, New York and London? They are the product of a designer's imagination and inspiration, taking influence from the world around and the mind within, and made into a tangible reality. If that's not the definition of "art" I don't know what is. But fashion doesn't just end with the realization of an idea, from there it takes on an entirely new momentum in the billion-dollar industry that it fuels. Fashion is business, and serious business at that. Anyone who doesn't believe has two options they can choose: rent "The Devil Wears Prada" and watch the scene in which Meryl Streep (as the aforementioned devil, based on Vogue's Anna Wintour) quietly and effectively tears Anne Hathaway's character a new one when she attempts to giggle about the so-called silliness of the business in which she works. In a couple minutes, Streep makes it abundantly clear that fashion is not only a massive industry, but it seeps into our everyday lives in so subtle a way, even those uninterested in clothing are affected. It's brilliant, it's brutal, it's sexy.
(I say sexy because of what my boyfriend had to say upon seeing "The Devil Wears Prada" for the first time. Rather than sympathizing with Hathaway's friends and boyfriend who can't understand this absurd, frivolous industry [while expecting her to drop everything to come to whatever occupational-related events they have going on], he cheered for Streep, claiming that any man who thought she was a ball-buster or a bitch and would rather be with the compliant Hathway, was scared of powerful women and not much of a man in the first place. Have I mentioned how much I love him?)
The other film I recommend is "Valentino: The Last Emperor", which chronicles legendary designer Valentino's 45 years in the fashion industry and intimately profiles the designer as a soiree in his honor is being planned while the majority share of his company (and his name) is being bought out from under him. The amount of work that goes into a single dress is staggering, employing a wide array of people, all of whom are exceptionally skilled. It's easy to shrug at a pretty frock when all we see is the model wearing it, but the attention to detail and the meticulous design process are enough to make an engineer recognize a peer. Another point to consider is the sheer number of people employed by the fashion industry: Valentino's featured dress (singular) had at least ten seamstresses working on it personally, not to mention his advisors, accountants, personal assistants and the production team utilized for a fashion show. (stage designers, lighting designers, audio designers, the technical director, stage managers, roadies, etc.) To sneer at fashion as a trivial pursuit is to sneer at all of these people who put in countless hours of rarely-recognized work, and who are operating at the very pinnacle of their industry. How many people can say they are the epitome of what they do?
Coming up next, I will address the actual runway show itself, concentrating on "unwearable" fashions and the controversy of skinny models...
