drawing – an invocation of San Precario

drawing — Danielle on April 16, 2012 at 4:11 pm

One day in the office, we were chatting about the issues we face as the young and self-employed. I was just back from my trip to Rome and I joked that there should be a patron saint of freelancers… and a single google search later, we had one. San Precario‘s history is appropriately, a short-term one:

Since February 2004 San Precario, patron saint of precarious, casualised, sessional, intermittent, temporary, flexible, project, freelance and fractional workers, has appeared in various Italian cities. The saint appears in public spaces on occasions of rallies, marches, interventions, demonstrations, film festivals, fashion parades, and, being a saint, processions.

San Precario is also transgender, and it has appeared also as a female saint. A “cult” has spread rapidly and has led to the development of a distinct and colorful iconography, hagiography and rituals.

My version of San Precario goes out to all the freelance fashion females out there. May you always be invoicing, may your barista get your name right, may your WIFI be forever free, may your follower count ever increase, may your stilettos support your weight.

Now, I am not a religious person. Because my work is by its very nature, uncertain, I do try to get philosophically comfortable with uncertainty rather than turn to mythology to explain the unknowable. Still, I have found the rhetorical idea of San Precario to be a useful one. Part of pursuing a creative career requires a type of irrational faith that your efforts will be worthwhile, when almost always, there is no actual evidence to indicate that is so. An invocation of San Precario, even in jest, reminds me that I am not alone in a capricious world.

four more fashion queens

history,thinking — Danielle on April 13, 2012 at 2:00 pm

Since I posted about some of my favourite fashion queens, I’ve been alerted to a couple of outstanding omissions and discovered a couple new favourites. While not all of them are necessarily fashion-y, all of them have a keen sense of majesty and thrilling stories about how they used their power. Here they are.

Queen Nefertiti played a symbolic role in a religious revolution. Otherwise, very little is known of her life or death. Her bust, discovered in 1912, has become an indelible modern image of feminine majesty, just as her alleged torso evokes idealized fertility.

Eleanor of Aquitaine is remembered as an icon of courtly love, but her real life story (as I learned thanks to BBC’s She-Wolves) was much more interesting than fairy tales. As one of just a handful of fierce Medieval Queens who lived in an era where power had to be physically fought for, Eleanor’s role as a monarch was dependent on being the mother of an heir, and very precarious despite her considerable intelligence and ambition.

Queen Nzinga of the Ndongo, like Hatshupset, avoided the question of gender by crowning herself King. With a wily way of playing her opponents off of one another, she secured her kingdom in the turbulent era of early colonialism, playing an ambiguous, notorious role in history. The most famous Nzinga anecdote has her imperiously perching on a servant’s back when no chair was offered to her.

Empress Elisabeth of Austria is perhaps the most fashion-y queen of them all. Thanks to Lorna for properly introducing me to her! Brilliant, eccentric, and vain, “Sisi” remains forever beloved for her cult of beauty. Her hair took four hours a day to maintain, during which she would study, she had a very unusual diet and perhaps even an eating disorder, was dressed in exquisite House of Worth gowns, and when she aged she ceased allowing her image to be reproduced.

Are there any more amazing fashion queens out there? I love discovering more!

click click – 08-04-12

click click — Danielle on April 8, 2012 at 1:24 pm

Welcome to click click, the sporadic review of what I find worth clicking on the internet.

If you’re looking for vintage magazine clips, as I was for this post, the best place to go, as ever, is The Fashion Spot. Above is a 1994 Miu Miu ad by Ellen von Unwerth, below is a 1988 Christian Dior ad.

Karma for participants and players -

  • Factory 311 – one of the best Q&As I’ve ever filled out, touching on blogging trends, how I construct a click click post, and the unique concerns of fashion illustration.
  • angela demontigny“Edginess and elegance intertwine with cultural Chippewa-Cree-Metis elements.”

cinema karma – Beijing Punk

interviews,watching — Danielle on April 5, 2012 at 1:04 pm

A recent fascination of mine has been the spread of Western youth culture across the world. Subcultures that are considered totally past their best-by date, mundane and commodified to us are incredibly fresh and vivid in different contexts. It brings up a lot of ideas about how trends spread, evolve and adapt across geography and generations.

This line of inquiry brought me to Beijing Punk, a documentary by Shaun Jefford. When he noticed I posted the trailer to tumblr, he got in touch, hooked me up with a legit copy of the film and shared some of his own interesting insights on the punk scene in Beijing.

Beijing Punk is currently festival-hopping across the globe and will be released in North America soon. If you’re in Paris, you can see it at:

May 26 2012 at NOUVEAU LATINA 20, rue du Temple, 75004 Paris
Cocktail at 8pm, screening at 10pm, after party from midnight to the sunrise at Black Dog.
Organized by Hejorama and Panic! Cinema

It’s a candid, intimate portrait of a burgeoning scene. Jefford has a light touch – he allows the charismatic subjects tell their own story with affection and without judgement. Punk documentaries can often seem impenetrable for non-punks – not so with this one, I found it to be refreshing and engaging.

While I watched I scribbled down a few ideas and questions, and sent them over to Shaun. His reactions follow.

Most of the bands and the audience in D-22 are dressed in a very ordinary way. It doesn’t strike me as such a heavily fashion-driven scene the same way as it was in London in the 70s and 80s. Is this because “punk style” has already been co-opted and de-fanged by international pop culture? Or is it because signalling visual allegiance to punk has social and legal consequences, as it does in Indonesia?

It looks like bands like Demerit and Mi San Dao and are using style signalling successfully, however it seems like all of the imagery is imported wholesale from Western culture. I was hoping to at least see at least one Mao version of the classic God-Save-The-Queen t-shirt. While some of the lyrics are China-specific, did you ever notice any punkifications of Chinese or Communist iconography? If not, is it because it’s a shade too subversive?

It may seem like they are just normally dressed teens to our eye but compared to their peers, these Chinese kids are having a serious cock out rock out. Tame to our eye but in terms of local visual cues these guys are positively raging against the machine. In China the average “12 hour a day working stiff” does not look like the NYU – inner-city-anywhere-irony-is-alive- hipster-set and dressing like them is marking a clear line in the sand. In China dressing in any way differently is a huge statement in itself. They have little popular culture to rebel against ( as compared to the west ) but a vast political one.

I think it is fitting that their rebellion takes shape in western forms as they discover and appropriate the whole history of western musical rebellion ALL AT ONCE instead of sequentially, over time as we did. But it is also fitting that they will rebel in a CHINESE WAY – that is to say, low key, modest, staid and restrained. But believe me, to Chinese eyes these kids are just as offensive and iconoclastic as Johnny Rotten was.

It’s not to say that there is a dire danger for them doing this – its not like that. Not like the police will throw them in jail for wearing hipster clothes. Its more a social death – as Leijun, skin head center of Beijing Punk, from the band Misandao once put it to me: “Look at me! I’m a fucking monster! No one will hire me, no one will look at me. They want me to be invisible!” I think that is the handle right there. Dressing differently equals a social death, a little silence associated with your name. More attention from authorities, a mark as trouble to watch.

Many of the characters in my movie seem to love the iconography and style of punk, rebellion as fashion, but they seem fixated on the latter days, where drink and drugs and excess took over and the ideals were lost. We touched on the controversy of the music in China, I think more of this would have been interesting but I felt I was treading a fine line between letting the world know about this movement and alerting the authorities and getting everyone into trouble. Because of this I chose to present the movie as a comedy, so as to swing in under the radar a bit more – I could see the Chinese censors looking at my movie and wondering if I was making fun of them or not. In some cased the Chinese punks have fallen into the Topshop punk aesthetic and don’t really want to make a difference with their music. But more often than not, the people I chose to be in the film were intelligent street smart kids who had something to say and had found this crack in the wall to say it.

Also, beer is cheaper than water in Beijing. When I realized that I wondered if that’s to keep people drunk and oppressed and happy without giving them the ability to change what’s around them. Some of the characters from my movie have all fallen into that trap certainly.

A lot of the lyrics and philosophies of the subjects have this really sincere, enthusiastic quality that couldn’t contrast more with Western punk’s sarcasm and nihilism. At one of the concerts in the film, the band (Demerit I think?) is singing a chorus of “fight your apathy” and I was wondering, is this where the knock-off culture ends and China’s own unique spin on punk begins? Do you think that punk philosophy stands for something different in Beijing than it does in London?

People still don’t know China is capable of any kind or dissent or resistance within. My questions come from being a music geek and a deep believer in the power of punk as it originally was, from Stooges and Ramones through Clash and Black Flag.

What I found so startling in this journey though was that there is a point where the weight of all of this accrued punk history ends and the Chinese take on things begins. There is hope and a wish for change in the younger generation that has been ignited by the internet and is fueled by the revelation of years of careful planning by the Chinese government, to now step into the center stage and take up its position as a world power. There is hope there now where before there maybe was a feeling of isolation and a locked in fate. Now there is a hope for change. The balance of just how far the kids are allowed to stray out into the light until the hammer falls is yet to be seen.

But it is exciting to watch and I know its going to be a surprise, what ever happens in the scene.

The scene is such a sausage-fest! I only noticed a few female supporting characters and they were exceptional – and not very talkative. As someone in a gender-imbalanced scene myself, I’m cool with the idea that some stuff just appeals more to one sex than another. But I’ve always wondered with male-dominated scenes, do the guys ever remark that there’s hardly any girls around, or even wonder why?

Regarding sausage to foofy ratio in the scene the female members of the Chinese punk scene are exceptional in that it takes a certain kind of person to gravitate to toward this scene to begin with – it’s not exactly the safest career move in China to become a punk. Now if you also happen to be a woman then you have the weight of gender inequality against you as well. You are certainly stepping out of the established comfort zone for women in your culture. Then the fact that they are actually loud, proud and GOOD is remarkable.

The women in the scene that interested me were

  • Atom – the drummer from Hedgehog. (Above – Out of all the bands in the movie, I found Hedgehog’s music to be the most accessible, they have a fresh, universal pop sensibility. -D)  She has a few scenes in the movie. I really wanted to do more with Atom but the opportunities never presented themselves.
  • Bianbian – the fun / fiery vocalist from Candy Monster.
  • The girls from “Ourselves Beside Me”.

I never heard anyone comment on it but I did ask a lot about the women in the scene and they were regarded as just as hard core as the men and serious about the experience. Atom by far is the most well known and quite loved. Always at screenings of Beijing Punk I get asked what the news is with Atom and Hedgehog, I tell them all I know, which is that they are still out there, still making music.

Thanks so much Shaun for sharing your film and a fascinating conversation!

If you see Beijing Punk on a marquee near you, I wholeheartedly recommend checking it out.

the indefinable decades

thinking — Danielle on April 3, 2012 at 8:00 pm

The origins of my interest in fashion were survey texts I found in the library of the small town I grew up in. Most fashion history books tend to be organized one decade per chapter, simplifying the chaos of costume history into clearly demarcated digits. Often they include cute little charts on silhouettes and hemlines like the one above. I loved the neat little rows of figures, and without a doubt that deep, early impression formed the format I would adopt as an illustrator.

As I discovered fashion at the end of the 1980s as an eight year old, the tidy division of decades was beginning to break down. The sharp-shouldered silhouette dissolved in the 1990s. I remember looking forward to the end of the century so I could see the 20th century laid out in a row of 10 clearly defined figures, but of course by the time that happened, I was old enough to realize that the 1990s didn’t fit the formula. There was no single silhouette that somehow contained the essence of the decade.

Having exhausted the survey-texts of my hometown library, in 2001 I started fashion school and began systematically working my way through the fashion, textile, sewing, art, design, illustration and photography sections of the library, as well as the periodical archives. I got my tuition’s worth out of those stacks. As I did this, fashion’s patterns began to get more and more complex.

Still, there’s something satisfying, if superficial, about summing up a decade’s definition. Silhouettes have stopped standing in for decades and now signify more abstract concepts. This post is about how I think of the last four decades, and the character of the designers that emerged in each one.

The louche 1970s silhouette of bell bottoms and blowouts does seem to suit a decade of deconstruction. There was a great relaxation of sexual signifiers – men and women both grew their hair long, abandoned structured clothing and embraced colour and pattern. Casual came of age. The last modern western youth culture drummed the postmodern death knell with punk. Exhausting modern street style, designers and rock star trendsetters alike turned to importing inspiration from the past and abroad. The frenzy of appropriation increased the momentum of the homogenization of international fashion culture.

In contrast, the designers who wove their labels in this decade are autobiographical auteurs. Giorgio Armani, Diane von Furstenberg, Betsey Johnson, Calvin Klein, Jean Paul Gaultier… and at the end of the decade, Gianni Versace.

The 1980s was the last decade that did have a stereotypical silhouette – sharp-shouldered supermen and women. It was the last time media was still monolithic enough to brand a decade with a catchphrase. There is an essential straight-forwardness  to the 1980s that we will never recapture. Rich people looked like rich people, and that’s what fashion was for. Fashion was still a small scene and mysterious at the beginning of the decade. It parlayed that glamour into the big business fashion has become.

By the end, it was celebrified, corporate, and at the peak of its power. Supermodels. Branding, a pretty straight-forward way to commoditize. Money was cheap. The many designers that established their businesses in this decade became rich and powerful and continue to dominate decades later, with huge companies. Heavy hitters from the class include Marc Jacobs, Donna Karan, Miuccia Prada, Yohji Yamamoto, Dolce & Gabbana, Vivienne Westwood, John Galliano, and Michael Kors.

The 1990s, the decade that defies easy visualization, was fashion’s intellectual phase. It evolved from a straightforward business into something much more complex and self-aware. For the first time it was the subject of rigorous critical and academic attention, and schools became very important and influential. Thus, the dialogue between designers and media became much more sophisticated. Braindead branding was abandoned and designers began to challenge the boundaries of fashion using narrative and spectacle.

Just as the television monolith exploded into a multi-channel universe, so did fashion. The demand for increasing theatre and provocation sped up. Youth cultures were practically stillborn before they were absorbed, and the world was plundered for every available aesthetic. That’s why there’s no unifying symbol for the decade.

In retrospect, the brainy 1990s was an amazing decade for fashion and produced many diverse, compelling creators. They have not yet been able to build the massive empires of their predecessors, though. Alumni include Alexander McQueen, Hussein Chalayan, Anna Sui, Isabel Marant, Jeremy Scott, Viktor & Rolf, Roland Mouret, Rick Owens, and Junya Watanabe.

The 2000s was a difficult decade to enter fashion. The success and storytelling of the last two decade’s designers inspired a lot of us to apply to fashion school. At the same time, like every industry, fashion was facing the challenges of a media transition and the consequences of an increasingly complicated world. Again, there is no way to nail down a single silhouette to tie the aughties into a neat knot.

Money has become much more expensive, just as media has become cheaper. Fashion has become more about media than the other way around. The scarcity of resources, and the division of attention has produced a very harsh environment for new names on labels. Perhaps it’s no surprise that designers of this decade now often turn to uncontroversial, technique-based design or celebrity dressing. Fashion seems like it has become more muted, or maybe we’ve all just become jaded from too much visual stimulation.

It’s hard to tell which designers from this decade will be able to establish long-term careers. My bets are on Alexander Wang, Proenza Schouler, Christopher Kane, Gareth Pugh, and Zac Posen.

Who knows what’s in store for the 2010s? We live in interesting times. The only thing that’s certain is that I can’t draw an outline around fashion anymore.

drawing – Fashion Futures 2012 entries

drawing,education,London — Danielle on March 28, 2012 at 12:42 pm

This was a serendipitous opportunity – I happened to run into a flatmate of an acquaintance in Rome while I was on vacation, and a classmate of theirs referred me to an organization in London called Fashion Awareness Direct. FAD is a bit like the Passion For Fashion in Toronto (where I taught an illustration session in 2009/10) – offering free fashion education and career-building opportunities to young people. If you’re a fashion professional interested in mentoring, or a young person curious about pursuing a career in fashion, you should check out FAD.

I was invited to sit in and sketch on a jury day for their Fashion Futures 2012 competition. The entrants were presenting their creative process, their sketches and muslin toiles of their designs. To sketch their ideas, I took a look at the toiles and guessed how they would look on models, so these drawings are from imagination except for the linear details of the garments.

From top left to bottom right, the designer’s names are Jakita, Randa, Robin, Sophia and Hazar.

 

click click – 27-03-12

click click — Danielle on March 27, 2012 at 10:00 am

Welcome to click click, the sporadic review of what I find worth clicking on the internet.

Paisley is another example of a culture-crossing textile – check out the Guardian slideshow here.

A cup of karma, toasting new internet friends -

  • Calgary Fashion – asks me a few questions about fashion blogging mistakes and advice.
  • The Mod Social“fashion in the digital era”
  • Fashionarium“helping independent fashion designers & illustrators turn their ideas into businesses”

drawing – Sunstar Barbie for Butikofer

drawing — Danielle on March 22, 2012 at 11:13 am

I drew this version of Barbie for my fashion designer friend Adrienne. It was for a competition. I was very pleased with how the illustration turned out and it also met with the approval of Adrienne’s 3 year old daughter. Even though we both thought that Sunstar Barbie was brilliant, the judges didn’t agree and she didn’t get to go to the finals. You can read the whole story on Adrienne’s blog. I love how she describes her creative take:

Barbie gets a hard time, a lot of the time. From Moms. From Feminists. From Feminist Moms. You know, everybody loves to hate Barbie, give her flack about her unachievable proportions, her being a bad role model for little girls. She is often acquiring another career to appease her critics, to make her more of an independent woman who is in charge of her own destiny. So my gal, Sunstar Barbie, is the antithesis to the criticism. She’s all about being the unapologetic center of attention, the centre of the universe, actually. She’s rockin in the free world, strutting her stuff, a happy, fun, shiny star.

I would totally buy this Barbie for my daughters. I didn’t want my design to have anything to do with sexiness, or even beauty (in the Barbie sense). I guess. But this Barbie is a dynamic, individual of a woman that I want to know more about.

Adrienne’s Barbie idea definitely had a better shot than mine did in 2004 - I guess there’s only so much subversion you can get away with when it comes to Barbie.

inappropriation – why fashion is a cultural scavenger

thinking — Danielle on March 21, 2012 at 3:00 pm

When I read about this UN expert stating that Rodarte’s Fall 2012 “Australian” inspired collection was offensive, I was… confused. The designers had licensed the images from the artist, so it wasn’t like they had done anything illegal or hateful. I couldn’t imagine the Rodarte sisters in their studio plotting to nefariously decontextualize Aboriginal art. What is cultural appropriation, anyway? And why am I so culturally insensitive that I can’t even tell when appropriation is offensive? Is there something wrong with me?

I don’t like to jump to conclusions so these questions led to a long line of online inquiry… and at the end of a long weekend reading all sides of a relatively new and controversial subject, I still feel ambivalent about it. A lot of what is written about cultural appropriation on the internet is very difficult for a new initiate to the subject to get into – much of what is available is accusatory and angry and doesn’t offer any clear directives. It seems like this kind of rhetoric builds a barrier to understanding what exactly the issue is, because it took me quite a while to find a demystifying description, and I don’t think most people would take that kind of time.

To get my problem out of the way first – I think the reason why I am culturally insensitive is twofold. One – I enjoy offensive stuff. To me, fashion needs friction to be interesting. The edges where fashion offends are where new fashions form. As such, I tend to view stuff that others perceive as offensive with detached curiousity. Two – I’m white, atheist, and have been raised with many privileges within the world’s most dominant culture. I have no experience of belonging to a distinct race, religion or culture, so my ability to truly empathize is limited. I have to be deliberate to be conscientious.

So, why are the Rodarte sisters culturally insensitive? Many critics suggested that the designers should have known better in the aftermath of the 2010 M.A.C. collaboration controversy, where the names of the cosmetic colours referenced a town in Mexico most famous for systematic violence against women. In that case, they released an official apology and retraction, and M.A.C. pulled the line and donated projected revenues to appropriate charities. Like many followers of fashion, it was the first time I learned the story of Juarez.

In all of the coverage of the controversy, I didn’t find anyone who asked why the inspiration referenced was so dark. The collection itself was, in my opinion, one of Rodarte’s career highlights – I even created a paper doll inspired by it. To me, Rodarte’s design identity belongs in the same category as artists like Lana Del Rey – let’s call it American Decay. Sadness and dissolution are part of the beauty. The sisters take a lot of their inspiration and identity (even their name) from the southwestern United States where they grew up and are still located. The Mexican border is close to home, and their natural proclivity as narrative designers towards creating sad beauty explains why they were drawn to Juarez because of, not in spite of, its tragic story. The distressed Quinceañera dresses created an indelible impression and were well received.

All of these are reasons are why Rodarte Fall 2010 was a successful collection in a creative sense – it told a story that obviously resonated with the artists – and in turn, their audience. The risk of cultural insensitivity in this case was well worth the artistic result. The makeup collaboration however, is by its very nature a commercial endeavour. This is why it diminished its source material, instead of honouring it.

So why did the Fall 2012 “Australian” collection also diminish its subject? To the critical eye, the pretty dresses with their printed motifs seem innocuous, even boring. As far as collections go, it was less successful in creative terms. Why would the sisters choose to source such distant reference points that resulted in a predictable, dull collection? Why did they choose to use the idea of Australia, rather than visiting the country itself?

Fashion designers tend to resort to appropriation once they’ve exhausted their own autobiographical resources. Yves Saint Laurent launched into a long series of appropriations in the seventies as his creative faculties were in decline. After abandoning the Dior tradition of using abstract “lines” labeled with letters of the alphabet, YSL found success culture-mining local European street style, the world of art, and his own childhood in Morocco. After that, then what? In his case, it was Orientalism.

Fashion is ever-hungry for novelty. While many designers start out using their own experiences as launching points, the ability to turn that into something new and unusual on a relentless six-month schedule is creatively exhausting for even the best and brightest. While it may seem like cultural appropriation is the lazier way out – and it is in the sense that infusing novelty from a diffuse dominant culture is near-impossible – you just wouldn’t accuse fashion designers of being lazy if you knew one or tried to be one. It is one of the most demanding creative professions both in terms of time and money. Why did the Rodarte sisters not take a trip to Australia? They probably would have loved to – what is most likely is they didn’t have the time – and if industry gossip is true, they don’t have the budget either. Fashionable appropriation just isn’t as great a money-maker as it was when Pierre Berge launched Opium in 1977.

Cultural appropriation is a risk that fashion designers take – sometimes garnering success and acclaim, and sometimes provoking offense and controversy. In either scenario, they’re staying in the game, where the rules state that boring the media means getting ignored by the media. So if designers can’t co-opt other people’s culture, what else can they do?

Tom Ford is the ultimate example of a designer who has remained true to his autobiographical antecedents. When he’s criticized, it’s for always doing the same thing regardless of what label he works at or how many seasons he’s presented riffs on the same self-centered obsessions. Because he’s Tom Ford, he doesn’t apologize. Ford is not in fashion to push it forward, it it is more important for him to trust his creative instincts. Most independent designers don’t have the sheer power to be able to get away with this kind of obstinate consistency and stay relevant.

The other option for narrative-driven first-world fashion designers is mining the many subcultures within the dominant culture rather than citing indiginous and endangered cultures. There are a vast array of examples of wild style tribes available in the margins of the mainstream – but that doesn’t mean that controversy is avoided by doing so, and the aesthetic variety is limited to post-modernism.

Perhaps these are the reasons why in the last decade, in terms of design, the major trend is towards creativity via technique rather than subject.

I like a cultural free market, because I want fashion to be as fascinating as possible. I think that it’s good for designers to risk offense. Offending people and provoking criticism has positive consequences for cultural awareness, whether indirectly by publicizing examples of oppression or directly by questioning the modern validity of traditional cultural practices. The risk of so much dismal rehashing of stereotypes is worth it for allowing the shocking possibilities of irreverence and audacity.

why fashion bloggers are more like designers than critics

thinking — Danielle on March 16, 2012 at 5:56 pm

Now that the picture is coming into focus, it is clear we chose the wrong frame.

In the earlier days of fashion blogging (2005-2007) we chose media as our antecedent. We thought blogging was going to revolutionize the way fashion was covered. How? It could be faster. Or maybe more reflective of real people. Hopefully, it was going to be less beholden to corporate interests.

The fashion media itself reflected this naive narrative right back at us through a filter of cynicism. We were interlopers, seat-stealers. We were characterized as teenagers and wannabes, in breathless awe, incapable of critical thought, and too easily bought. The bloggers vs. critics narrative was born, and persists.

Everyone was wrong. The journalists were wrong – and so were we. Fashion criticism is under threat from the mismanaged collapse of an obsolete corporate business model combined with influence financial and otherwise from fashion’s heavyweights. Is it really endangered by a bunch of misunderstood kids? Come on.

It’s like comparing szezont a fazonnalFashion writers pride themselves in cultivating distance from their subject, gather vast amounts of experience and knowledge, and expressing their analysis through writing. Their role is, ideally, as objective as possible.

Opposite – fashion bloggers are subjective. In fact, they are often their own subjects, and as such are wholly inseparable from their subject of choice. Rather than analytical, they are expressive.

As individuals inextricable from their medium, fashion bloggers share much more in common with designers than most fashion writers. Designers and bloggers both tend to work under their own name, and often use their own image as muse. They both tend to be intensely visual, and rarely articulate with words. Some of the tropes of fashion blogging – like the mood board – are literally imitative of how designers work – assembling pictures rather than words to build a visual diagram of what they represent. The outfit post, the street style shot echo the visual standard of designer’s output – croquis, runway exit.

Great bloggers are brilliant at expressing themselves through images and words – just like the most successful designers are. Media is not used to translate reality in an informative way, instead it is used to bring their personality to life in the imaginations of an audience. For lack of a better phrase – brand building. A vivid ability to create an impression shows the individual has the raw material for making a creative career. As a blogger myself I find the entire process to be far more intuitive and artistic than it appears – it comes from inside you.

As such, many talented bloggers are using media in the same way designers do – to expressively establish a reputation for their work, whether the career is blogging itself or something else – photography, styling, illustration, modelling, editing and of course writing. This means both bloggers and designers are economically chained to their cultural contributions – a terrible environment for encouraging critical thought.

If designers and bloggers belong in the realm of fashion’s id, fashion criticism is the ego. Fashion goes on regardless of whether it gets analyzed or not. In fact, journalistic criticism is relatively new – Horyn herself dates her craft to 1993. So, it is a mature cultural development that requires a sophisticated audience and a handful of professionals with significant experience and a unique complement of skills. No wonder they’re so rare – and that’s also why few bloggers will ever play that field.

Fashion critics do understand the importance of putting a face to the words – there’s a reason why Suzy Menkes styles her hair that way. Still, Menkes uses her own image as a tool, not as a muse. Her focus is outward, and she has a major non-fashion-industry employer to bulwark against money pressure, and those distinctions are why her and her colleagues are cut from a different cloth than the fashion bloggers they’re often compared to.

The heirs for criticism are on their way, because Horyn, Givhan, Menkes and others established an audience for it. A few online voices are carrying on the tradition of covering the shows with candour, intelligence, spirit and wit, and their experience is building with time. Excellent fashion criticism may be as rare as ever, and the profession will be forced to adapt within a changing system, but it is not endangered.

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