Fashion Week and Pseudo-Philosophy

This afternoon, having exhausted the slideshows from the first day of Milan Fashion Week, I went on to look at the last day of London Fashion Week at Style.com. Two weeks ago I flipped through the New York slideshows with a dedication that surprised me, because the last time a fashion week came around the whole thing bored me dreadfully; but now there are so many aspects I like to think about, and then there is the occasional moment where I become absorbed in an aesthetic and the time, place, and artistic environment it suggests. Even though past London fashion weeks have not been much to my taste, since the prevailing aim seems to be to make every single element clash (colours, patterns, peculiar and unflattering silhouettes vs. natural outline of body, etc.) in a desperate bid for modernity, not to mention a tired imitation of American fashion in the 80s and 90s, I unexpectedly appreciated some of the shows. (And not only Burberry's, whose grace and safeness would naturally appeal to me.)

Perhaps my appreciation for shows that don't fall into the limited and conservative category I personally prefer is not entirely sincere, but what's true is that I often forget when admiring especially inventive clothes or a well-worked-out theme that I would be unlikely to wear any of the clothes even if they were affordable. But that's also because my body shape and lack of height make certain looks impracticable; and while I don't theoretically mind wearing bright and unusual clothes for fun, I prefer to wear unobtrusive clothes that don't distract from the face, which is where I want to unconsciously express character. (When I look at other people their attire is pretty much the last criterion I'd use to guess at their character. Even where apparel is the result of careful consideration — with me it rarely is, except that I am fond of coordinating colours — it can only convey a limited range of nuances, and even then it tends to convey the personality a person wishes to project rather than their true personality.)

The other principal reason why I dislike overwhelming clothing is that the idea of becoming a faceless clotheshorse and thereby denying, or being denied, one's identity, is intolerable. This was one aspect that put me off of fashion shows for a while, but now that the models' faces are growing familiar and I see sparks of their individual selves behind all the make-up and through all the fabric trappings, the runway no longer feels so inhumane. Nevertheless it makes me sad to see (apparent) fashion victims in the true sense, meaning the ones who think that their clothes are more important and more presentable than the person wearing them.