I’ve never been overly impressed by LC’s or Whitney’s outfits, so when their fifteen minutes netted them near-iconic fashion status in addition to getting them invited to, like, all the coolest parties, I was more than a little perplexed. Yes, they continually carried the latest It bag and always wore what was In, but shopping and dressing according to trend ain’t no thang when you’ve got the dough to do so. If they could afford to buy almost anything, why were their wardrobe choices so conventional?
Living by the gospel according to Ron Herman means something worse than accumulating a nasty credit card bill. It means paying a lot of money to look like everyone else. And this brings us to today’s lesson, (or theory, if you will):
Money is conversely related to personal style.
Being able to buy whatever Fashion says you Must Have Now means never having to push the envelope, experiment, cut your pillowcases into dresses, whatever. When I was armed with Daddy’s plastic, I looked like every other Scoop-clad JAP in the same way LC and Whitney look like every other overpaid actress in LA-LA-land. When the money plug got pulled, only then did I stop basing what I bought on what the mags deemed In, and start figuring out how to shop for ME – my budget, my size, my penchant for leggings.
I don’t know if the vomitous Vogue would deem my post-plastic style cool or not; I just know what I wear now that I can’t afford jack is a hell of a lot more interesting than what I wore when my parents funded my wardrobe. Personal style on par with Chloe Sevigny or Gwen Stefani can’t and won’t develop without budget constraints. I’m willing to bet that both those ladies were broke before they hit it big, and that it was precisely their lack of funds that generated the creativity and originality still apparent in what they wear today. Spending less means being more resourceful, and that’s as true of clothing as it is of everything else.
Now, for your viewing pleasure, some photographic evidence of how limitless funds result in limited style. Our first examples come from good ol’ LC and her Lauren Conrad collection.
(From left) The Lily Skirt hails from the Resortwear portion of LC’s line, aka Safari Chic. What a novel idea, this Safari Chic biznass. Fucking groundbreaking, I tell you. Aside from the fact that this concept is oh-so-done, I’ve almost-definitely seen this pattern at H&M. Except it was less offensive, because there wasn’t a $185 pricetag attached. The Karmen Dress and the Chloe Tunic are overpriced versions of the solid-colored, jersey-knit crap Forever 21′s been producing for approximately five years now: While the chain is known for mimicking designer goodies, it appears the reverse is true here. The dress retails for $260; the tunic’s “on sale” for $74.97 (clearly, no one thought it was worth its original $175. I mean it’s strapless and doesn’t even have a built-in bra for fuck’s sake).
Let’s move on to LC’s cohort’s line, Whitney Eve.
Basically, someone strung a piece of elastic through the middle of an oversized shirt, cinched it and called it a dress, but that’s not the worst part of the line. Almost every piece is 100% Silk, ’cause that’s really practical, Whit. If you’re charging $350 for that ridiculous blue Cap Sleeve Dress and $300 for the Tuxedo Spaghetti Dress, which is basically a glorified slip, those puppies better dry-clean themselves.
Someone PLEASE take these girls’ credit cards away before they unleash on their adoring public more overpriced, unoriginal apparel.
Wearing designer clothes doth not a designer make.
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This is soooooo true! I grew up poor, with parents that forbade me to get a job (lest I become money-obsessed and drop out of school). I always hated the fact that I was forced to scrounge at thrift stores… until I somehow ended up with the Most Stylish title in my HS yearbook. At first I thought they might be making fun of me — but then I realized the same thing you mentioned in this post: dressing like a mall mannequin is boring.
Even after I left my parents’ house for college and got myself I job, it’s still all about the thrift stores & swap meets. Hey, why pay more to look worse??
Sad, but true. Why is it that being rich sucks all the creativity out of people? I’ve always assumed that if I had big buxx, it would just mean more ways to explore the world easily and creatively … but maybe I’d just turn into a lemming.
Kudos!
You all put it so well! Being decked out in the latest mall fashions is sooo not for me! I’d feel ridiculous, like a puppet. I’m not the world’s most creative dresser, but give me Goodwill any day.
I totally agree. We grew up upper middle class, but my mom used to make a lot of our stuff. We were definitely blessed — family vacas, etc., but we weren’t rich. My teachers at school used to ask me if I had one outfit for everyday of the week. I didn’t. But the creativity with which my mom put our outfits together, and what we learned as we got older really gave my sister and me our own personal sense of style. My family is Muslim, and I started covering my hair in college, which forced me to REALLY play with clothes and accessories to find what I liked, and what looked good. I think you hit it spot on when you said you’re willing to bet these kids used to be broke. What we all have to remember is that those girls are REGULAR PEOPLE, who were REGULAR HIGH SCHOOLERS who ONLY EVER WANTED WHAT THEY SAW IN THE MAGAZINES. See, now that they have the means to fund their wardrobes, (and since THEY ARE NOT real celebrities) they just flip open a People mag and buy what they think is cool. Great post. I’m sad for about 99 percent of the women in America now. haha.