2013-05-26T00:21:15-04:00 Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=kristin-knox Copyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc. HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Kristin Knox Good old fashioned elbow grease. tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2236250 2012-12-04T05:03:14-05:00 2013-02-02T05:12:01-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
First and foremost, I'd like to begin by drawing your attention to a recent article by Suzy Menkes in the Herald Tribune's Magazine, a rather cynical take on what she dub the "new, commodified attitude reign[ing] in the once genteel world of high fashion." What Menkes writes is without a doubt true, and in a digital age where the Twitterati rule and celebrity culture is king, creative directors rather than the products whose creation they direct have moved to the forefront of fashion. Like prominent pieces on a monochrome chessboard, the key players dose-doe, generating headlines and trending Twitter topics as they go, creating a "buzz" for the brands in question that are no doubt far more lucrative marketing-wise than even the flashiest, brashiest of campaigns or runway extravaganzas. In the case of Hedi Slimane for Saint Laurent (or whatever nomenclature one is meant to reach for these days), you can read my less than savory thoughts here on HuffPo. In light of Suzy's postulating, I think that this coupling epitomises this so-called "commodification" in one of its least appealing manifestations. But in the case of Wang for Balenciaga, the result remains to be seen. Here's why.

Forecasting on the positive side, K-Stew bestie Ghesquière has already done a lot of the heavy lifting where brand revamp is concerned, transforming the traditional French couture house into a bastion of rottweiler-screen printed, bad-ass biker jacket cool, coveted by "edgy" celebrities and socialites from San Diego to Shanghai. Wang's own ethos, homegrown on the streets of Lower Manhattan and coveted by sidewalkers worldwide, is more of a natural fit aesthetically than Slimane's was for YSL. Accordingly, we are unlikely to see the same variety of 180 degree aesthetic whip-lashing that constituted the shift from Pilati to Hedi. We will be able to count on ample amounts of black, a grungy underpinning of futuristic luxe and some highly covetable accessories. In the spirit of house founder, couturier Cristobal, Wang is likely to tick the signature boxes of stark simplicity, streamlined silhouettes, fluid lines and innovative waist-lines quite well.

But then comes the question of Wang's tenderness of age. Unlike Slimane, who of course held the reigns of Dior Homme for a good seven years, 28-year-old Alex has never faced the task of submerging his vision to blend harmoniously with the heritage a revered house. Much like the late Lee McQueen at Givenchy (with whom he shares the name Alexander), at this stage of his career, Wang is a talented up-and-comer displaying promise unbound but untempered by the longevity of big gun commercial experience. His eponymous ready to wear label was launched in 2007 and he only opened his first stand-alone store in 2011. Balenciaga, by contrast, operates boutiques in over two dozen countries. The uptick in commercial scale and market responsibility is considerable.

If historical antecedents provide any insight, one need only look to the disaster that was Lee McQueen's five year tenure at Givenchy (1997-2001). Besides Lee's laments that the Parisian fashion house stymied his creativity, as Menkes rightly points out, McQueen leveraged his time at LVMH-owned Givenchy to lure the affections of rival PPR for substantial investment for his own, eponymous line, thus fostering a "sense of distrust and fear of being discarded [that] is a two-way problem." One is just as likely to discard the other when a better, more self-serving opportunity comes along; it's the business of fashion. Wang is well on his way to becoming, like Lee, a flagship brand for his nation's fashion industry, epitomising what it means to be an American designer today and many years to come. An elevation in prominence worldwide vis a vis the securing of the Balenciaga helmsmanship will at once detract from the building of the legacy of his own brand but also make Alexander Wang, the man and the label, a brand more appealing for large-scale investment.

Moving to potential personal consequences, Menkes writes: "within the fashion world there are many other open secrets about drug and alcohol addiction. Without the support of a 'family' -- actual or composed of loyal friends -- the designers are sent off to rehab or may just quietly leave." Case in point: one Monsieur John Galliano. The demands of eight collections per year per brand (Wang heads up two if you don't count his diffusion "T"), are mentally staggering. And we all know that our dear Alex (bless him and his blow-out NYFW after parties) loves to toss those long locks, drink in hand, late into the night. For someone so young who already has a reputation for being a bit of a party boy, the pressures to rise above and navigate the treachery of the road ahead will be watched closely.

So the question remains: who will emerge all the better from this pairing? Or will the match sail on smoothly to the tune of Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton a decade plus on? Can Alex successfully navigate this cross-pollination, keeping the flame of Balenciaga alive without allowing his own line to suffer, or converging them into one giant collection that shows half in New York at calendar's start and half in Paris at its end? Bright young things for bold old brands may seem like a good idea from both designer and conglomerate stand-point, especially as the commodifcation of our little industry marches right along. But if harbingers of the past can issue any words of warning to would be stallions, chomping at the bit of their newer, posher, Frencher stables, it's that the strong and steady steed, well-trained and capable of testing the limits without burning out, is the one worth putting money on.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2244482 2012-12-04T05:03:14-05:00 2013-02-02T05:12:01-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
First and foremost, I'd like to begin by drawing your attention to a recent article by Suzy Menkes in the Herald Tribune's Magazine, a rather cynical take on what she dub the "new, commodified attitude reign[ing] in the once genteel world of high fashion." What Menkes writes is without a doubt true, and in a digital age where the Twitterati rule and celebrity culture is king, creative directors rather than the products whose creation they direct have moved to the forefront of fashion. Like prominent pieces on a monochrome chessboard, the key players dose-doe, generating headlines and trending Twitter topics as they go, creating a "buzz" for the brands in question that are no doubt far more lucrative marketing-wise than even the flashiest, brashiest of campaigns or runway extravaganzas. In the case of Hedi Slimane for Saint Laurent (or whatever nomenclature one is meant to reach for these days), you can read my less than savory thoughts here on HuffPo. In light of Suzy's postulating, I think that this coupling epitomises this so-called "commodification" in one of its least appealing manifestations. But in the case of Wang for Balenciaga, the result remains to be seen. Here's why.

Forecasting on the positive side, K-Stew bestie Ghesquière has already done a lot of the heavy lifting where brand revamp is concerned, transforming the traditional French couture house into a bastion of rottweiler-screen printed, bad-ass biker jacket cool, coveted by "edgy" celebrities and socialites from San Diego to Shanghai. Wang's own ethos, homegrown on the streets of Lower Manhattan and coveted by sidewalkers worldwide, is more of a natural fit aesthetically than Slimane's was for YSL. Accordingly, we are unlikely to see the same variety of 180 degree aesthetic whip-lashing that constituted the shift from Pilati to Hedi. We will be able to count on ample amounts of black, a grungy underpinning of futuristic luxe and some highly covetable accessories. In the spirit of house founder, couturier Cristobal, Wang is likely to tick the signature boxes of stark simplicity, streamlined silhouettes, fluid lines and innovative waist-lines quite well.

But then comes the question of Wang's tenderness of age. Unlike Slimane, who of course held the reigns of Dior Homme for a good seven years, 28-year-old Alex has never faced the task of submerging his vision to blend harmoniously with the heritage a revered house. Much like the late Lee McQueen at Givenchy (with whom he shares the name Alexander), at this stage of his career, Wang is a talented up-and-comer displaying promise unbound but untempered by the longevity of big gun commercial experience. His eponymous ready to wear label was launched in 2007 and he only opened his first stand-alone store in 2011. Balenciaga, by contrast, operates boutiques in over two dozen countries. The uptick in commercial scale and market responsibility is considerable.

If historical antecedents provide any insight, one need only look to the disaster that was Lee McQueen's five year tenure at Givenchy (1997-2001). Besides Lee's laments that the Parisian fashion house stymied his creativity, as Menkes rightly points out, McQueen leveraged his time at LVMH-owned Givenchy to lure the affections of rival PPR for substantial investment for his own, eponymous line, thus fostering a "sense of distrust and fear of being discarded [that] is a two-way problem." One is just as likely to discard the other when a better, more self-serving opportunity comes along; it's the business of fashion. Wang is well on his way to becoming, like Lee, a flagship brand for his nation's fashion industry, epitomising what it means to be an American designer today and many years to come. An elevation in prominence worldwide vis a vis the securing of the Balenciaga helmsmanship will at once detract from the building of the legacy of his own brand but also make Alexander Wang, the man and the label, a brand more appealing for large-scale investment.

Moving to potential personal consequences, Menkes writes: "within the fashion world there are many other open secrets about drug and alcohol addiction. Without the support of a 'family' -- actual or composed of loyal friends -- the designers are sent off to rehab or may just quietly leave." Case in point: one Monsieur John Galliano. The demands of eight collections per year per brand (Wang heads up two if you don't count his diffusion "T"), are mentally staggering. And we all know that our dear Alex (bless him and his blow-out NYFW after parties) loves to toss those long locks, drink in hand, late into the night. For someone so young who already has a reputation for being a bit of a party boy, the pressures to rise above and navigate the treachery of the road ahead will be watched closely.

So the question remains: who will emerge all the better from this pairing? Or will the match sail on smoothly to the tune of Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton a decade plus on? Can Alex successfully navigate this cross-pollination, keeping the flame of Balenciaga alive without allowing his own line to suffer, or converging them into one giant collection that shows half in New York at calendar's start and half in Paris at its end? Bright young things for bold old brands may seem like a good idea from both designer and conglomerate stand-point, especially as the commodifcation of our little industry marches right along. But if harbingers of the past can issue any words of warning to would be stallions, chomping at the bit of their newer, posher, Frencher stables, it's that the strong and steady steed, well-trained and capable of testing the limits without burning out, is the one worth putting money on.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2190664 2012-11-22T10:11:28-05:00 2013-01-22T05:12:01-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
Under her tutelage, Versus will collaborate with young designers, stylists, and other assorted creatives (insert Blogger X and contemporary artist Y here) to develop small collections, co-branding projects and limited edition ranges. New collections are to be introduced via presentations, the first of which is slotted for March or April 2013 in New York, rather than bi-annual Milanese catwalk. Meanwhile, distribution will focus on e-commerce, with the creation of a digital flagship store.

So what exactly are these "new industry trends" and how do they reflect on the fashion industry in general? The collaborative "tribe" approach to creative direction is an intriguing one that speaks to the increasingly collaborative nature of fashion design and marketing, a sort of interactive and "inclusive" attitude designated by the web. But is this a good thing or a bad thing?

The FT's Vanessa Friedman blogged recently about the precarious position of non-designers designing, arguably, Donatella's new M.O. will see more of the same, cemented by the seal of approval of one of Milan's most renowned luxury fashion houses.

Furthermore, this notion of rejecting the fashion calendar to create "seasonless" collections that are disseminated online is a sort of rule-rewriting that has already been tried and tested with limited success, one Alessandra Facchinetti's Uniqueness springs to mind. Gucci and Valentino's former creative director's foray into just such a venture back in the fall of 2011 fell short of expectations, though the Facchinetti surname does not pack the same kind of big league punch as Versace. The idea of "seasonless" design, in my opinion, is limited, as "fashion" is a concept which is, essentially, predicated on the necessity of the change of season.

More importantly, this overhaul calls into question the viability of "second" lines in today's market where disposable income for the targeted bracket (namely, twenty-something designer aficionados such as myself) has shrunk considerably. The topic was first raised in Italian earnest when Stefano and Domenico announced the shuttering of D&G last year. The mid-market, or high mid-market, is contracting, while the top end and bottom rung, aka fast-fashion (as evidenced by Donatella's own sell-out collaboration with H&M), are booming. No need for finger pointing to 99% "Versus" 1% catchphrases here.

Designers as businesses have to consider the relevancy of their second lines, whose prices remain considerably higher than even the priciest high street labels, but are (in most cases) not that much better made and certainly fall short of the sartorial splendour of mainline pieces. A Versus jersey t-shirt runs about £260 and a pair of skinny jeans £280-in no one's book is that a bargain buy. Second labels are all about buying into a brand, but those who have the cash to do so these days have more than enough to scoop up mainline pieces, and those who aspire to be entry level purchasers instead have to hope and pray for high street collaborations.

So the question seems to me, why even bother restructuring Versus at all? Why not take a cue from Milan's dynamic duo and cut it altogether if its fiscal prognosis is uncertain? Or, if the H&M collection was such a hit, revealing a consumer voraciousness for iconic product at accessible prices, why not simply reinvent a newer, even more accessible label and build on that new customer base mobilised by aforementioned high street collaboration? You know, a product that is actually diffused.

While how this restructuring will pan out in terms of product, price and market-positioning remains to be seen, the fact that it is even happening at all is a harbinger, I should think, of more second line overhauls to come. The sad fact of the matter is, among these so-called "new industry trends" lies, cleverly concealed in marketing jargon, the death of the diffusion label as we know it coinciding with the demise of middle class purchasing power and an aspirational and upwardly mobile youth demographic. In the case of Donatella "Versus" the mid-market, the verdict, both design and dollar-wise, is as hard an outcome to predict as the muddled futures of the margianlised demographics themselves.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.2175405 2012-11-22T10:11:28-05:00 2013-01-22T05:12:01-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
Under her tutelage, Versus will collaborate with young designers, stylists, and other assorted creatives (insert Blogger X and contemporary artist Y here) to develop small collections, co-branding projects and limited edition ranges. New collections are to be introduced via presentations, the first of which is slotted for March or April 2013 in New York, rather than bi-annual Milanese catwalk. Meanwhile, distribution will focus on e-commerce, with the creation of a digital flagship store.

So what exactly are these "new industry trends" and how do they reflect on the fashion industry in general? The collaborative "tribe" approach to creative direction is an intriguing one that speaks to the increasingly collaborative nature of fashion design and marketing, a sort of interactive and "inclusive" attitude designated by the web. But is this a good thing or a bad thing?

The FT's Vanessa Friedman blogged recently about the precarious position of non-designers designing, arguably, Donatella's new M.O. will see more of the same, cemented by the seal of approval of one of Milan's most renowned luxury fashion houses.

Furthermore, this notion of rejecting the fashion calendar to create "seasonless" collections that are disseminated online is a sort of rule-rewriting that has already been tried and tested with limited success, one Alessandra Facchinetti's Uniqueness springs to mind. Gucci and Valentino's former creative director's foray into just such a venture back in the fall of 2011 fell short of expectations, though the Facchinetti surname does not pack the same kind of big league punch as Versace. The idea of "seasonless" design, in my opinion, is limited, as "fashion" is a concept which is, essentially, predicated on the necessity of the change of season.

More importantly, this overhaul calls into question the viability of "second" lines in today's market where disposable income for the targeted bracket (namely, twenty-something designer aficionados such as myself) has shrunk considerably. The topic was first raised in Italian earnest when Stefano and Domenico announced the shuttering of D&G last year. The mid-market, or high mid-market, is contracting, while the top end and bottom rung, aka fast-fashion (as evidenced by Donatella's own sell-out collaboration with H&M), are booming. No need for finger pointing to 99% "Versus" 1% catchphrases here.

Designers as businesses have to consider the relevancy of their second lines, whose prices remain considerably higher than even the priciest high street labels, but are (in most cases) not that much better made and certainly fall short of the sartorial splendour of mainline pieces. A Versus jersey t-shirt runs about £260 and a pair of skinny jeans £280-in no one's book is that a bargain buy. Second labels are all about buying into a brand, but those who have the cash to do so these days have more than enough to scoop up mainline pieces, and those who aspire to be entry level purchasers instead have to hope and pray for high street collaborations.

So the question seems to me, why even bother restructuring Versus at all? Why not take a cue from Milan's dynamic duo and cut it altogether if its fiscal prognosis is uncertain? Or, if the H&M collection was such a hit, revealing a consumer voraciousness for iconic product at accessible prices, why not simply reinvent a newer, even more accessible label and build on that new customer base mobilised by aforementioned high street collaboration? You know, a product that is actually diffused.

While how this restructuring will pan out in terms of product, price and market-positioning remains to be seen, the fact that it is even happening at all is a harbinger, I should think, of more second line overhauls to come. The sad fact of the matter is, among these so-called "new industry trends" lies, cleverly concealed in marketing jargon, the death of the diffusion label as we know it coinciding with the demise of middle class purchasing power and an aspirational and upwardly mobile youth demographic. In the case of Donatella "Versus" the mid-market, the verdict, both design and dollar-wise, is as hard an outcome to predict as the muddled futures of the margianlised demographics themselves.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1944693 2012-10-07T19:00:00-04:00 2012-12-07T05:12:02-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
I have to say that what I witnessed from the safety of the Twittersphere albeit here on the ground in Paris disturbed me. I won't rehash the thoroughly trussed conflict that brewed between certain press and certain womenswear virgins (cf. NYT, BoF and Telegraph for excellent assessments from the vantage of the snubbed). But I would like to raise what could perhaps be perceived as an unpopular point that has hitherto not made an appearance in any of the musings surrounding the kerfuffle. I agree with pretty much all of the arguments laid out in this thorough article by Imran Amed, save the final one: "Ultimately, this kind of behaviour is not only arrogant, it also reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of how winning brands are built in today's world. Successful brands aren't defined by a set of rules conceived in the control tower of a company's headquarters and broadcast to the world. They are ideas that live in conversation with the world. They can't be dictated. They must be nurtured. It's a serious wake-up call for a PR team that is clearly living in the pre-digital age."

While this is a lovely notion of a free-thinking and free-spirited digital era in which people say what they think and the brands are peachy with that, from where I sit, doesn't exactly ring true. Slimane's PR are not living in a "pre-digital age," but rather, smackdab in the middle of it. As a full time blogger myself, I know that loyalty (and hence things like rent and food) can be bought for a small and, of course, FTC-disclosed fee. Hence the rise of the so called "business of blogging." Now that bloggers have been front row mainstays for years, the modus operandi of blogger/brand back scratching, precisely the one that many editors were so wary of when the alternative digital media first appeared majorly on the scene a few years back, has become fairly standard practice. With the majority of bloggers who are thrilled to even be asked to step across the threshold of certain shows, PRs can pretty much bank on orgasmic Tweets and exalting blog posts. And who can blame them? Starting your own website, discovering that people read it and suddenly winding up in the middle of Paris or Milan Fashion Week hardly puts one in the mood to grumble.

But when it comes to the old guard, ink is thicker than blood. For all the other factors at play in the case of Slimane V. The Press, the problem is not, in my humble opinion, that brand-formerly-known-as-YSL's people are afraid of the freedom of the online press and its instant retweetability to infinity and beyond so much as they are taking a page out of the blogger book and forgetting that not all press, in particular the old school keepers of the kingdom, can be counted upon to speak favourably about a collection. An undercurrent has shifted since we in the fashion entered this "digital" age, and however directly or indirectly, its attitudes are starting to infiltrate deeper and deeper. There is a reason printed press were long since barred from accepting gifts. Maybe that's why, as Slimane so maturely pointed out in his "open letter" entitled "My Own Times," Ms. Horyn's sense of style is "severely challenged"--like most adult professionals, the woman pays for her own clothes.

Amed writes: "Successful brands aren't defined by a set of rules conceived in the control tower of a company's headquarters and broadcast to the world." But isn't that exactly how many bloggers make their living? By accepting money from brands to broadcast their products with the blogger's sanctified stamp of approval to the world? This is not to say that we are corporate pawns because we are not, livings must be made but in a way that is done with integrity. But unlike large-scale publications with infrastructure and reputations bigger than any single journalist, we operate as one man/one woman enterprises and count our lucky stars when we receive an invite to the show of our dreams or a new bag we've been coveting or a client whose product we love that wants to pay us to love it--that is living the digital dream, so to speak.

In conclusion, the nugget for your consideration I wanted to put out there is this: rather than being victims of an digitally ignorant PR world, has the cyber sphere actually enabled brands to develop loaded expectations such as these? And what will the consequences be as the march of fashion media, digital or otherwise, rolls onward? Will more brands follow suit when they realise that in barring those who speak ill of you, you actually generate FAR more Twitter buzz than a passing pessimistic review gliding by on the NYT Reader? It seems to me that brands and bloggers alike need to take a page from Horyn's newspaper: everyone needs to stop caring so much about what others will think about them and instead focus on saying what they honestly think about the clothes. So let's talk about YSL, let's talk about it all. Only then can the conversation do one better than, as Amed says be "nurtured," it can actually thrive.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1724888 2012-07-31T14:32:04-04:00 2012-09-30T05:12:04-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
The 2012 Games are, one could argue, the first truly social media savvy installation of the world's greatest sporting event, which in turn means that with the increase in the number of eyes fixated on moments both on and off the courts, and infinitely more channels on which to discuss infinitely more topics than say, the score, the fields of play have now become fields of fashion.

Consider: "Since Beijing hosted the summer Olympics in 2008, smartphone ownership has skyrocketed to 107 million, a 456 percent increase in four years. Facebook accounts have increased 900 percent and the number of Twitter accounts has gone from just under 1 million to 300 million in 2012" (NJ Times).

Now consider: "The athletes' parade during Friday's opening ceremony might as well have been a catwalk show, with some of fashion's biggest names - Armani, Prada, Ralph Lauren, Stella McCartney - designing the team uniforms" (ESPN).

You can always count on the fashion industry not to count themselves out of a multi-media friendly spectacle. The 2012 Games cements it: from here on out, every global media event-sporting, political or otherwise - is now fair game for a fashion event. In terms of marketing, it doesn't get any better than this spur-of-the moment real-time engagement, positioning Prada pool-side and Hermes against the hurdle.

Who cares what the athletes are doing so long as they look chic doing it (in 140 characters or less)? Double up on national pride, free models and large-scale social media exposure. For brands, Olympic visibility means accessing a market via social media that is not limited to runway related interests, that is to say, a broader demographic that may or may not find such fashion week hi-jinx and luxury fashion in general a touch elitist, inaccessible and generally inapplicable to their lives, and therefore, uninteresting. It's a (back)stroke of genius for designer brands looking for ways to engage newer and bigger audiences via their viral channels all the year long, particularly in the fashion slow-down months of July and August.

Giorgio Armani's duds for the Opening Ceremony included a navy blue suit with soft two buttoned jacket in cotton jersey teamed with classic trousers, a light blue cotton shirt and a regimental tie for him and a softer version of the same for her. Stella McCartney tapped her longstanding association with Adidas to create the on and off duty gear for team UK (Union Jacks all around) and herself caused quite the stir Instagramming away from the Opening Ceremonies as she cheered on a "Hey Jude" crooning Papa Paul clad head to toe in a delightfully chic shimmery gold number.

The Jamaican team had its duds designed by Cedella Marley (daughter of Bob) for Puma and Ralph Lauren took some good old fashioned American flack for outsourcing (or was it off-shoring?) the manufacture of Team USA's kit to China. Hermes neatly arranged riding jackets for France's equestrian team (some saddles would be nice too guys, mais pas?) and Salvatore Ferragamo designed the official uniform for the tiny Republic of San Marino. Karl, in true Lagerfeld style, left the German team to their own unchic devices and cashed in for himself launching, ahem, the Team Karl collection at Selfridge's. The Kaiser accordingly told press in London that he would not be watching the Games as he likes the "idea" of it better than the actual event. Team Karl obviously plays in its own thinner, much less sweaty league.

The British Fashion Council also announced that a consortium of emerging British talent had a hand in designing costumes for key segments of the Olympic Opening Ceremony. Over the course of the last year Suttirat Larlab, Creative Director for Danny Boyle (who orchestrated the Opening Ceremony), toured the studios of the best of British based new young designer talent in the run up to the big event and selected three to partake in it all. Christopher Shannon, Michael Van Der Ham and Nasir Mazhar were the qualifying finalists gleaned from the East End for Britain's homegrown sartorial team, creating the looks for 350 out of the 1200 dancers that performed on opening night.

The style spectacle also spills, just like fashion week, off the pitch and into the sidelines: Michelle wore Mendel and Kate sported Kane, as presses releases lining my inbox over the weekend informed me. And as I keep my eye to Instagram, you can bet there will be some street style scouts on the loose and round-ups of the "best Olympic outfits" coming to a slideshow near you.

While the impetus behind fashion's social media sanctified Olympic love affair undoubtedly circles back to a commercial/marketing objective, the implications are rather positive ones. An industry that is normally associated with all sorts of unhealthy practices and substances slipping out of its lofty stilettos and into a pair of sneakers so as to celebrate the human body in all its properly nourished and psychically honed glory seems like a positive enough move to me. Athletes, on account of perpetual training rather than perpetual hunger, make great models that send strong, healthy messages and it's great to give these inspirational individuals a chance to shine in an arena other than their own. Who's to disapprove of the likes of Michael Phelps soaking in a Louis Vuitton bath as opposed to smiling up wholesomely from a Wheaties box? So long as we still pay attention to the actual sports, a little side serving of style never hurt anyone.

I suppose the only question left is WHEN will one of our stylish fashion friends lend a helping hand to those poor scrunchied gymnasts still straggling in the mid-nineties? Gabby Douglas would look great springing across that floor in a little Pam Hogg number, don't you think?]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1746162 2012-07-31T14:32:04-04:00 2012-09-30T05:12:04-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
The 2012 Games are, one could argue, the first truly social media savvy installation of the world's greatest sporting event, which in turn means that with the increase in the number of eyes fixated on moments both on and off the courts, and infinitely more channels on which to discuss infinitely more topics than say, the score, the fields of play have now become fields of fashion.

Consider: "Since Beijing hosted the summer Olympics in 2008, smartphone ownership has skyrocketed to 107 million, a 456 percent increase in four years. Facebook accounts have increased 900 percent and the number of Twitter accounts has gone from just under 1 million to 300 million in 2012" (NJ Times).

Now consider: "The athletes' parade during Friday's opening ceremony might as well have been a catwalk show, with some of fashion's biggest names - Armani, Prada, Ralph Lauren, Stella McCartney - designing the team uniforms" (ESPN).

You can always count on the fashion industry not to count themselves out of a multi-media friendly spectacle. The 2012 Games cements it: from here on out, every global media event-sporting, political or otherwise - is now fair game for a fashion event. In terms of marketing, it doesn't get any better than this spur-of-the moment real-time engagement, positioning Prada pool-side and Hermes against the hurdle.

Who cares what the athletes are doing so long as they look chic doing it (in 140 characters or less)? Double up on national pride, free models and large-scale social media exposure. For brands, Olympic visibility means accessing a market via social media that is not limited to runway related interests, that is to say, a broader demographic that may or may not find such fashion week hi-jinx and luxury fashion in general a touch elitist, inaccessible and generally inapplicable to their lives, and therefore, uninteresting. It's a (back)stroke of genius for designer brands looking for ways to engage newer and bigger audiences via their viral channels all the year long, particularly in the fashion slow-down months of July and August.

Giorgio Armani's duds for the Opening Ceremony included a navy blue suit with soft two buttoned jacket in cotton jersey teamed with classic trousers, a light blue cotton shirt and a regimental tie for him and a softer version of the same for her. Stella McCartney tapped her longstanding association with Adidas to create the on and off duty gear for team UK (Union Jacks all around) and herself caused quite the stir Instagramming away from the Opening Ceremonies as she cheered on a "Hey Jude" crooning Papa Paul clad head to toe in a delightfully chic shimmery gold number.

The Jamaican team had its duds designed by Cedella Marley (daughter of Bob) for Puma and Ralph Lauren took some good old fashioned American flack for outsourcing (or was it off-shoring?) the manufacture of Team USA's kit to China. Hermes neatly arranged riding jackets for France's equestrian team (some saddles would be nice too guys, mais pas?) and Salvatore Ferragamo designed the official uniform for the tiny Republic of San Marino. Karl, in true Lagerfeld style, left the German team to their own unchic devices and cashed in for himself launching, ahem, the Team Karl collection at Selfridge's. The Kaiser accordingly told press in London that he would not be watching the Games as he likes the "idea" of it better than the actual event. Team Karl obviously plays in its own thinner, much less sweaty league.

The British Fashion Council also announced that a consortium of emerging British talent had a hand in designing costumes for key segments of the Olympic Opening Ceremony. Over the course of the last year Suttirat Larlab, Creative Director for Danny Boyle (who orchestrated the Opening Ceremony), toured the studios of the best of British based new young designer talent in the run up to the big event and selected three to partake in it all. Christopher Shannon, Michael Van Der Ham and Nasir Mazhar were the qualifying finalists gleaned from the East End for Britain's homegrown sartorial team, creating the looks for 350 out of the 1200 dancers that performed on opening night.

The style spectacle also spills, just like fashion week, off the pitch and into the sidelines: Michelle wore Mendel and Kate sported Kane, as presses releases lining my inbox over the weekend informed me. And as I keep my eye to Instagram, you can bet there will be some street style scouts on the loose and round-ups of the "best Olympic outfits" coming to a slideshow near you.

While the impetus behind fashion's social media sanctified Olympic love affair undoubtedly circles back to a commercial/marketing objective, the implications are rather positive ones. An industry that is normally associated with all sorts of unhealthy practices and substances slipping out of its lofty stilettos and into a pair of sneakers so as to celebrate the human body in all its properly nourished and psychically honed glory seems like a positive enough move to me. Athletes, on account of perpetual training rather than perpetual hunger, make great models that send strong, healthy messages and it's great to give these inspirational individuals a chance to shine in an arena other than their own. Who's to disapprove of the likes of Michael Phelps soaking in a Louis Vuitton bath as opposed to smiling up wholesomely from a Wheaties box? So long as we still pay attention to the actual sports, a little side serving of style never hurt anyone.

I suppose the only question left is WHEN will one of our stylish fashion friends lend a helping hand to those poor scrunchied gymnasts still straggling in the mid-nineties? Gabby Douglas would look great springing across that floor in a little Pam Hogg number, don't you think?]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1508525 2012-05-14T09:00:00-04:00 2012-07-14T05:12:04-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
1) The Neon Cambridge Satchel
They've been around for at least three seasons now, probably reaching their apex in appropriateness in September or even during the menswear shows in the summer. At first they were punchy, then they were personalizeable and now they're pariahs. Not that I don't love a good Cambridge Satchel, but the neons/stars/polkadots--it's all too much. Just give me classic brown, put some books in it and basta.



2) The Glitter Booty-Miu Miu or Otherwise
I'll be the first to admit I was head over glitter heels for these booties when they first shimmered onto the circuit about a year ago. In September, I swear there were more glitter boots on the loose than street style photographers, leaving a trail of sparkling sidewalk like Lucky Charms wherever they went. This season, I have to say (and I HATE this phrase but here goes) they just looked so last season. I am a firm believer in the myth of the trend, that is to say, I believe you should just wear whatever you want when you want, it's all a question of how your style it. But sometimes, pieces with such strong personality negate excessive styling and so what you end up with is an army of similarly simply clad girls all boasting the same statement bootie. Thus the time for all tinkerbell inspired footwear to go back in the box has come.



3. Versace for H&M
By the time fashionistas were queuing round the world during all hours of the night to get their hands on the stuff, I was already sick of Versace for H&M, having had more press releases about the incremental implementation of the collaboration than had Kate Middleton stepped out in public hand and hand with the Queen having forgotten her flesh-tone tights. Yes, really. Hence why yours truly was slumbering peacefully in her bed while a good portion of the fash pack battled it out all over the globe, their brave early morning tales clogging up Twitter whence I woke. And where, pray tell, did all this sold out Versace for H&M go? It went straight to fashion week. Be it the printed tops and skirts or, even more prevalent, the studded mosaic biker jacket, Donatella's foray into fast fashion was the uniform of the season. Just remember they call it "fast" for a reason.



4) Bright Dip-Dye
I will concede, about this time last spring I was practically in tears when my hair stylist refused to sear bleach into the tips of my hair to then dunk it in auburn to create what I was convinced would be the most ah-mah-zing ambre dip dye ever, refusing to "destroy" my natural color and texture. Fast forward six months later, and I revoke the title I bestowed upon him of London's grinchiest hair stylist who doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. The dip dye thing was so visually exciting when it first trickled like spilled Kool-Aid across the tresses of the so-called "hipster sect" of the fash pack, making for great photos against derelict brick walls, all the more so as cool kids were quick to match their tangerine locks to their tangerine trousers, their green tips to their green tops, and so on and so forth. But since we tipped the new year, it's felt a bit dipped out to me, with only the subtler dip dye jobs--such as varying shades of honey blonde--still registering chic in my book. Time to whack off those ends and start again, ladies.



4) Blue Hair for Him & Her
On the subject of hair, I'd like to say: blue is not the hue. This season, on the crops of both men and shortly shorn ladies, blue hair dye was seen on way too many individuals. Tavi went for the grey/blue granny-meets-cookie-monster look what feels now like years ago and was not lauded for it then. Come on boys, back to the salon you go.



5) Prada Creepers
They're EVERYWHERE, on men and women alike, Prada's raffia woven brogue flatforms are now a scourge on our sidewalks. Personally, I've never really warmed to the flatform, preferring to either wear (call me old fashioned) flats or platforms. Even the miniature of Marc Jacobs at his own exhibition with Louis Vuitton features the designer sporting a pair. I feel a flatform intervention coming on...creep away, creep away (and take your little blue stripe with you please).



6) Side Plait
As much as it pains me to say it, its time to untwist your side plaits. While I still personally love a good braid, especially when one does not have time to wash one's hair between fashion partying straight into one's 9AM show, we're now coming up on year two of the trend and I find myself drawn to sleeker pony tails than braids these days.



7) Celine Luggage Totes
Some of you may try to hack my site for this one, but I do think the Celine luggage tote could benefit from a short bow out. Celine is like crack for street stylers and over the seasons, editors, bloggers, buyers and models off duty have discovered that a Luggage Tote in any size, shape or color will land you on someone "Best of Fashion Week X" list. So what began as a sort of 21st century edition of a Birkin-status bag, that is to say, heirloomable bags so expensive and so exclusive they can only be obtained by long waiting list, now feels over saturated. I'm not saying the loose the Luggage indefinitely, just check them into the baggage hold for a season or two.



8) Valentino's Studded Patent T-bar Pumps
Somewhere on the road, I overheard someone say that you can tell who's having a moment by the footwear most spotted during fashion month, a useful line of reasoning which I filed away til now. Following this logic, the designer of this season would have to be Valentino, because his studded t-bar pumps were spotted on some of the most stylish feet from New York to Paris, so much so that I'd say they're on the cusp of overexposure. That is to really say, fine for February, stash away for September.



9) Le Petit 2.55
I still kind of want one, but I will hold back as long as I can. These pocket-sized Chanel 2.55's have been cropping up on all sorts of arms this season, and I can totally see why. They're cute, collectable and CHANEL (not to mention their quaint jersey quilt costs the same as a pocket of a regular leather sized 2.55). On some refined editors, the little 2.55 was a new variant on a classic accessory of which you know they have the better part of an army stashed away at home. On others, it screamed: "I Chanel because I can." And that's not a covetable label for anyone.



10) Novelty Cameras
Thanks to folk like Lomography and retailers like Urban Outfitters, novelty cameras and things to put on your camera have become the kitsch must have of bloggers worldwide. However, having tried very unsuccessfully to wrangle one myself, I can confirm that they are not the handiest of things for having with you at shows, and you wind up posing more with it than you do behind it. My fashion week camera philosophy is thus: if it doesn't improve your image quality, do you really need it? The same goes for "cute" camera cases and things resembling necklaces supplementing for camera straps.]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.1377944 2012-03-25T19:00:00-04:00 2012-05-25T05:12:02-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/ plagiarism and expulsion, respectively. And I don't just mean plagiarism of the most blatant copy-and-paste variety, I'm talking down to the minute levels of nuance of linguistic cadence, sloppy citation and half-assed paraphrasing being enough to bring your work under the scrutiny (and mercy) of the board. In academic and publishing circles, passing off someone's words or ideas as your own is the ultimate of intellectual sins.

Fast forward three years and I'm a full time blogger who routinely wakes up to discover a selection of her work - from images to text to ideas to coined phrases - ripped off unceremoniously across the internet, without even so much as a hint of citation. And I am certainly not the only one. Don't get me wrong, as one-man publications, we have to cut corners where we can to keep the content coming, and not every pithy news story will get the same careful editorial treatment as a full-blown feature. I myself copy and paste press releases on to my site, but only where they concern news and clearly indicate all cited content as being just that - cited.

"Copy & Paste" fashion blogging has been around in effect for just as long as fashion blogging itself and comes predominantly in two main forms, one less offensive than the other. Offence One involves the sticking up of a press release in its entirety but cloaking its contents as the product of your own ingenuity. Offence Two, which is by far the worse, amounts to copying and pasting from the original work of a cyber colleague and fiddling with a word or two. The reasons "justifying" this sort of behavior are numerous (I'm sure you can imagine what they are without me recounting here), but as blogging continues along its evolution from personal pastime to viable fashion career trajectory, I find them less and less easy to abide.

They basically boil down to a certain laziness on the part of the blogger coupled with a lack of conviction in his or her own recourse to an opinion. And these two things, in my opinion, underwrite the whole operation of blogging, which is meant to be about self-initiated self-expression. This London Fashion Week, I even noticed that the brands and PRs have resorted to publicly disavowing this practice, tweeting lamentations of the prevalence of copy-and-paste press releases standing in for show reviews cropping up on the sites of bloggers who were invited as well as those who were expressly not. Like checking in on FourSquare at the Chanel show in Paris when you're actually comfortably situated at home in front of the Live Stream in your jammies.

Just as easy as it would be to point fingers at bloggers for their lack of initiative and creative input, the direction in which social media in general seems to be headed is most likely just as much to blame. We find ourselves in a digital society that at once values individuality, but only in so far as it can homogenize it across integrated multi-platform "sharing." That is to say, we have created systems that encourage and perpetuate the appropriation of other peoples' thoughts and ideas as our own and embrace it wholeheartedly. Just as much as social media has championed the sharing of individual thoughts, opinions and points-of-view, it also has also had the opposite effect, teasing out mankind's mimetic herd-like tendencies, encouraging "following" rather than leading. The appropriation of the ideas of others is streamlined into a commodity with buttons like 'retweet' on Twitter, 'reblog' on Tumblr and 'repin' on Pinterest. Of course I myself am privy to all of these buttons and use them daily, but nonetheless, I think it's still worth pointing out that these channels encourage us to claim a partial ownership of (and then disseminate) someone else's creative moment of inspiration, be it a single image or 140 characters of quote.

So let me wrap up by putting a little simile to you. It's a bit like dropping a rock into a still pool of water, the stone instantly slips beneath the surface, gone from view forever, but it's ripples, radiating outwards wider and wider are all that stay always in view. Even though each ripple moves rather away from the original, it is all that remains. Thus it is with a juicy nugget Tweeted or fancy photo Instagrammed. Within seconds, minutes, it's been retweeted/blogged/pinned so many times that its original author is lost. What worries me is not the interactive culture of sharing, but the element of taking without heed. If everyone were just to take without giving back, soon we'd end up in a cyber sphere saturated by endless "re-s" (reTweets/rePins/reBlogs/etc); once that stone is gone, it's gone for good. ]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.1065870 2011-11-01T19:00:00-04:00 2012-01-01T05:12:01-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
Fashion shows and soirees, photo shoots and blogger breakfasts, yes, I muse to myself as I wade through my flat littered with shopping bags, if devoid of what one could call a "masculine touch", life is pretty good. But then the cyber-saavy Carrie Bradshaw of 2011 puts one Miu Miu glitter boot outside her flat and bam, is literally run over by the reality bus. And that bus, my friends, has a Kooples ad smugly plastered across its bright red bulk.

The reality, dear ladies, is that it is not 2002 but on the eve of Spring/Summer 2012, and the world today is a very different place then it was then. From 9/11 to the economic collapse, tsunamis and near-nuclear disasters, the era of abundance is over, and so, it seems, is the heyday of the single girl a la Carrie Bradshaw, along with it.

There's just something about those Kooples ads, the nonchalant non-posed poses of the models, excuse me, "real people." An off duty catwalk girl and her beatnik bourgeois boyfriend looking cool as cats, his hand coyly slipped into hers while the words printed beneath read: "Anna and Lars have been a koople for three years." Great. Suddenly, all the Manolos in the world don't make up for the fact that you're not one black-jersey-and-leather-clad-half of a grunge chic his 'n' hers.

And that's the simple genius of it. The Kooples campaigns have tapped precisely into the zeitgeist of the moment and, not surprisingly, in just two years have met with tremendous success in their homeland France and now Britain as a result. And my sneaking suspicion is, when they do venture across the Atlantic, they'll take the Big Apple (and by Big Apple, I mean Brooklyn) by storm too.

The success story of the Kooples is a culturally curious one, as it suggests that the beating pulse of the young "cool" aesthetic has now expanded to include a menswear repertoire to stand opposite the women's: the couple has become a commodity. In Carrie's day, campaigns were all about high power women, marketing to her. Now, in these cash-strapped times, the marketing targets him as well--a hipster boyfriend, it seems, is 2011's "it bag."

This leveraging of the duo over the diva is not surprising given the current political and economic climate; as consumer confidence plummets, notions of stability become preferable to those of freedom. Society shrinks back into a more conservative mode of thinking and functioning - which means young people tend to get married younger. Just look at the current landscape of American reality television programming which is literally overrun with shows about marriage match-making (The Bachelor, The Bacherlorette, Who Wants To Marry A Millionaire?) and borderline schizophrenic brides-to-be (Bridalplasty, Say Yes To The Dress). Until Jennifer took up with Justin, we nearly canonised her for surviving singledom into her forties post-Brangelina. And Demi's recent fall from marital bliss has us all rethinking the siren call of the cougar phenomenon.

It's not that I'm saying women have regressed, because we haven't. But when people dawn upon their recognition of Miss Bradshaw in me, the looks in their faces register SATC 2...the movie, rather than the glory days of the small screen. We no longer live in a world where monogamy (according to Samantha) is an "airborne" disease. Now, it's a coveted prize to be won at the end of the reality show rainbow, dispensed in lieu of shiny new convertibles or jetskis at the hands of Chris Harrison.

But the harsh reality is that we live in a world where it's hard to find (and subsequently keep) a job, where benefits are shrinking, mortgages defaulting and rents and inflation are ever on the rise. We need to couple up, to lean on one another for moral support, not to mention split rent and utilities. And that's the thing about the Kooples campaign, as Maud and Alexandre (a koople for four months, FYI), whiz passed you down Oxford Street, you can't help but identify with them just as much as you envy them.

They're standing on the street instead of a studio (just like you), dressed super cool (not just like you), but casually (back to just like you again). Nothing flashy, no overt branding, no bling-- just deft layering, slouchy t-shirts, the odd leather piece and some damn good looking skinny jeans. They're just regular people navigating this increasingly complex and harsh world (just like you).

So I think, if Carrie were still strutting about in her single stilettos today, instead of basking in bitterness as the Kooples bus drove by, she'd remind us of some wisdom dispensed in the series finale: "[the most] exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." While the zeitgeist and current social climates these days may not be as kind to us single gals as when the Fab Four clinked their cosmos at the Meatpacking's latest and greatest, Carrie's message of female solidarity still rings true.

Even if you can't rush out and buy yourself a stubbly chinned, v-neck clad Julien of your very own, you can buy that biker jacket. And that slouchy cardigan. And those studded boots. If Carrie taught us millenial girls anything, it's that the most rewarding relationship of all is being in a healthy (and, hell, why not, hipster) koople with yourself. ]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.1004747 2011-10-11T19:00:00-04:00 2011-12-11T05:12:01-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/ sarcasm), so I find it quite moralising, for once, that my fellow countrymen, in particular, my fellow American liberals long accused of all talk and no action, have mobilised in the form of the Occupy Wall Street Movement. The Leftist answer to the Tea Party, just in time for the 2012 presidential campaign season, and their message is a simple one: "We are the 99% that will no longer tolerate the greed and corruption of the 1%."

Some of you may feel it is somewhat hypocritical for a fashionista by profession ("surely, one among that Balmain-clad 1%!" I hear a voice dejecting somewhere) to throw her two cents into the demonstrating ring, fashion, of course, being at the end of the day in and of itself something of a true paradox where the bastions of the thoroughly corporate capitalise on the talents and exertions of young creatives.

But at the crossroads of youth and politics, you almost always have, at least in some form, the question (or problem, as is more often the case) of fashion. And Occupy Wall Street, with its droves of young "hipster" supporters (from the pictures it seems the whole of downtown young Manhattan mustered literally an army in American Apparel), is no exception.

Case in point: last Thursday, the New York Times decided to feature a slideshow on "Protest Fashion," which proclaimed protesters' outfits to be "as divergent as their message," a little web journalistic turn that quickly prompted Telegraph critic Brendan O'Neill to wag a (insert adjective here) finger in the face of the grassroots movement and spark a little fashion-centric outrage, which arguably, detracts from the whole point of the protest in the first place.

But then again, on the flip side, maybe it doesn't, instead, instigating the opposite, that is to say, warranting a closer at look at the people manning this movement, their motivations and their methods, gesturing towards the fact that politics in the 21st century is not what is was in the 20th. We are living in an era in which our president elect campaigned on Twitter and revolutions are begun and won on Facebook--politics is a different beast than it was, and the emergent one is one that is decisively younger and more online savvy than the founding fathers ever could have possibly envisioned.

With unemployment holding fast at 9.1% in the United States, and a large portion of that percentage being made up by my fellow degree-toting-yet-thoroughly-indebted-living-in-mom-and-dad's-basement millenials, it is not surprising that the youth of America finally feel the need to speak up. Nor is it surprising that when such large groups of youths (New York City youths, no less) congregate, there tends to be a high concentration of well dressed "hipsters" amassing behind the picket-line, thus presenting themselves as an easy target for cynics such as O'Neill to dismiss the movement as "a fashion show masquerading as a political movement" or "a gathering of super-cool yoof who want to show off how hopping mad they are about bankers and war and pollution and stuff and also how fabulously dressed and adorned they are." Obviously, Mr. O'Neill has never been to an actual fashion show.

But industry self-degradations aside, Mr. O'Neill's condemnation of the protesters, the NYT for featuring their outfits and the movement in general seems to me beyond hypocritical and unfair; the word I really want to reach for is dated. Just because it may be hip to protest, that does not make it hypocritical.

The conservative columnist and other critics like him have always looked to talismans of youthful protest, such as fashion, such as music, to underwrite and dismiss the whole enterprise, but this attitude, surely, is in need of revision. These photographs were not published on some Brooklyn hipster's blog or by an "edgy" fashion magazine seeking intellectual and "artistic" kudos, but the New York Times itself: popular culture and politics are converging on one another, with the internet acting as catalyst.

Sure, the NYT need not have filed the slideshow in the "Fashion & Style" section and under the headline "What to Wear To a Protest," which does, no doubt, skew the thing more towards superficiality ("What to Pack for a [Government-enforced, six months no probation] Holiday" could make a good follow-up) rather than the realm of serious popular reportage. But nobody balked when the same publication ran a similar story on Egyptian "Revolutionary" street style back in August, something which could suggest that our problem with "protest chic" lies not so much in the sartorial expression of dissent, but rather, the locale of said expression. If it happens far from home, the droplets of a gushing Arab Spring, it's to be applauded, the gallery of flag-wrapped Egyptian youth prompting slews of Facebook "likes" and cheering comments.

But at "home" (that is, the West, in general), in the case of the "American Fall," with our own young people, it's "teenage self-pity and hipster narcissism." Kids abroad--resourceful and brave, kids at home--vain and ignorant.

O'Neill writes acerbically: "[There are] snapshots of trendy protesters who are given a tiny bit of space in which to explain why they're protesting and a bigger bit of space in which to explain what they're wearing, in a piece that could very easily be cut-and-pasted and republished in The Onion without a single word being changed." Yet, like a selective picture editor, the "trendy protesters" whose outfits O'Neill highlights are only among the more commercial, the few and unfortunately designer and high-street-clad amidst a slideshow of peers wearing thrift store purchases or hand-me-downs.

For every "protesting helps me tone my calves" type mini-view, there were at least two level-headed decisively non-fashionista photos, folk of the sort the street style pack would gloss over more absent mindedly than an empty cardboard box. Such as the lovely Mary Refling, aged 57, an Italian professor at Bronx Community College who turned up in her baby blues from Columbia, the robes awarded to Ph.D.'s to silently represent for the ever tax-constrained academic community.

Or Brian Allen, 19, the fashion-indifferent environmental studies major, who rocked up in borrowed (and I don't mean pristine PR samples) clothing for the occasion: "It's my friend's sweater that has holes in it...my shoes are Doc Martens that my friend gave to me. My pants I bought off the Internet, I don't know from where."

Or even the 29-year-old doctoral candidate Dan DiMaggio, whose shirt read: "Bail Out Workers Not Wall Street", not because he rushed to the nearest protest chic boutique to blend in with the trendy demonstrating masses, but rather, confessed to the fact that the shirt is "actually a few years old, but I'm wearing it because Wall Street received trillions in bailout, while people are over their heads in debt and having a tough time paying bills. But I always dress like this."

It is precisely this mix, this interplay of those who protest because they believe and those who protest because others believe and they want to come "check it out," that make the masses flooding Zuccotti Park and the clothes they're chosen to do it in worth observing: "street style" captures the politico and politi-faux alike.

And from where I sit (admittedly on the outskirts of current affairs and all the more on the "in-skirts" of SS12's latest and greatest) after five weeks of wading through an exponentially exploding number of street style photographers milling about outside fashion shows, desperate to catch a corner of Anna Dello Russo's latest vegetable-inspired headgear or the fleeting back of a thin, grungy model slipping oh-so-discreetly, her gifted 2.55 that's bigger than her swinging from her shoulder, from the backstage exit of a venue, it seems turning the lens of the so-called "street photographer" on to the garb of the people who are actually using said streets to make statements other than fashionable ones lends a kind of newfound credence to the genre.

The gleaning of inspiration more poignant than "how-to-pair-last-season's-jodhpurs-with-this-season's-flatforms" or "how-to-look-cute-riding-a-fixie-bike" seems to me to be an invaluable step in the evolution of the mania surrounding so called "street style," just don't expect to see Mr. O'Neill appearing on any "best dressed protest" galleries anytime soon. ]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.957472 2011-09-11T13:45:47-04:00 2011-11-11T05:12:02-05:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
It used to be, rows one, two and three constituted those who "matter" most at a fashion show. The key buyers, editors, token celebrities and cheeky blogger or two. But with more and more ticket requests bombarding the inboxes of PRs everywhere as every tom, dick and fashionista launches a blog, tumblr, or whatsoever other means of homegrown media, the seating charts have had to stretch to accommodate-and the venues aren't getting any bigger but the objectives of the show, thanks at least in part to the explosive hold of social media on the industry, for both press and PR, are.

As a blogger, the conundrum is thus: pictures versus prestige. A second row ticket smack-dab in the middle of a row means a blogroll full of runway photos obscured by the silhouetted heads of those in front of you, but it also means kudos (and, if you're lucky, a goody bag). But a fourth row end seat, or, gasp, even more horrifying a notion, a standing ticket, can guarantee you much better (and, praise blog, headless) images. If you're "standing," you can feel free to move about the cabin at will: duck, crawl, climb and lean--whatever you need to do to get that shot. But can an SD card full of clear images of nicely framed models mitigate the sting of being handed your "seat assignment" branding an unsightly "ST" like a sartorial scarlet letter? Some bloggers I know think so, and have even started to ask as much in their ticket requests to PRs, others cling dearly to notion that seatage is power.

It's a game of see-saw really, that boils down to a key point recently taken up by an article in the Guardian, is fashion blogging about content or celebrity? While the answer to that brooding question looms large on the horizon, for my part, that of the seating chart and the blogger's role in it should remain, not one of the "best" seat in the house, but rather a sense of gratitude and accomplishment for making it into the house at all.

Read up on my NYFW adventures on The Clothes Whisperer and follow me on Twitter
]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.913912 2011-08-02T05:00:00-04:00 2011-10-01T05:12:01-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/ shock waves reverberated throughout the literary stratosphere. Today, I'd like to posit a similarly outlandish claim as it pertains to this dear fashion industry of ours: the trend, as we plunge towards Autumn/Winter 2011/12 and the next round of fashion weeks, is on it's deathbed, wheezing its final "must-have" breaths. And I, for one, will not be weeping at its funeral, nor, on the other hand, will I be dancing in YSL Tributes on its grave. For the death of the trend, just like that of the author, is a double-edged sword denoting a fundamental change in our thinking about style and fashion, and, perhaps, even how we consume as a 21st century society in general.

Now, when I say the trend is breathing its last, what I really mean is that the more staunch notion of "Color X-is-the-one-this-season-and-Garment-Y-you-can't-live-without" mentality is evolving into something bigger, and, in my opinion, better (not to mention denoted by a much snazzier word):zeitgeist. Gone is that precious notion of the color, the cut, the "it" item, as it were. In this day and age, pretty much anything goes-it all comes down to how you style it. Thanks to the advent of the blogosphere, the saturation of the ready to wear and high street markets during a time of economic uncertainty, big brands have taken a step back from forcing yo-yoing "must haves" on us season after season (now jumpsuit! Now crop tops! Now bandage dresses! Now the kitchen sink strapped atop your head, onward ho!).

Instead, the aptly industry-dubbed "micro-trends" have been running riot, essentially allowing fashion editors to peg anything and everything that appears in at least two or more runway shows as one of this season's many "micro-trends," thus appeasing both designers and readers alike. Just take this coming Autumn/Winter season, for example, whose "trend-watch" is riddled with contradictions and opposites. Keywords to stash in your mental fashion cupboard for fall include androgynous v. ultra ladylike, fetish v. homespun crafts, minimalism v. fetish, futuristic v. victoriana, neutrals v. brights, and so on and so forth.

As for shapes-long and lean will do nicely, as will short and body conscious, hemlines maxi, midi and mini find themselves all on point and a wide leg trouser is just as current as a skinny. Prints range from check to geometric to polka dots to cheeky graphics (Dolce & Gabbana's stars, for instance) and the more you mix and match 'em, the better. There is no one item or brand this season (or next) that can propel you to instant and current cool, only styling can do that. The question, as it were, has become not what to wear, but how.

But for all my pomp diatribe, when it at last comes time to lower the coffin of the trend into the ground, it's not so simple as "Alaia to ashes, Dolce to dust." Because if the trend were truly dead as a doorknob, I wouldn't still be considering swapping a kidney for this season's Alexander Wang Robyn Hobo Tote so as not to be the only blogger at fashion week without a bullet studded bag, would I?

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]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.894420 2011-07-18T08:07:14-04:00 2011-09-17T05:12:01-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/ Berlin Fashion Week's Spring Summer 2012 installment, where, amongst the perpetual land of the German hipsters, I was reminded of a fact that's not particularly novel, but worth a wee rumination: the canvas bag as coveted fashion currency. The "swag bag," a small and subtle piece of printed cloth often given out as goody bags at fashion shows and events, can speak volumes about how far into the ranks of fashion's inner circle the wearer has penetrated. It's like the mark of the hottest and most exclusive nightclub stamped on your wrist that you casually "forget" to wash off for a few days so that everyone you meet can see without you telling them that you managed to make it past the bouncers and into the VIP room at the Box last night. The only difference is that a canvas bag won't disappear down the drain with a shower or two.

To tote a bag from the most exclusive after party or sought-after show is a way to proclaim without saying, "I WAS THERE! MY NAME WAS ON THE LIST AND YOURS WASN'T!" Canvas bags are to the fashion industry what t-shirts are to society at large, quietly branded pieces of cotton to brandish as a triumphal souvenirs in the faces of others. Patiently placed on the seats of certain runway shows of brands commanding enough budget (or sponsors), the bags themselves are way more important than the press releases and night cream samples to be found inside. And over the years, as more and more people (like bloggers) infiltrate the tents, they've become all the more elusive and exclusive, in many cases, now only placed on the seats of first two rows. The carrying therein of one such swag bag, therefore, instantly signifies not only the fact that you were there, but that you were FRONT ROW. Ooooooh.....

One need only spend about five minutes loitering about High Holborn and count the legions of Mulberry/London Fashion Week totes dating back as far as, oh I don't know, Spring/Summer 2009 proudly swinging from the shoulders of many a London College of Fashion student to know it's true. Last season's bags from LFW AW11 can still be found for sale on eBay, where, no doubt, the incoming freshers "bag" theirs before arriving on campus and admitting to their peers that they may or may not be (oh, the horror!), fashion week virgins.

Every fashion week, at least every fashion week that I've attended, there's always at least one or two totes that bring with them the stamp of insider approval for that particular season, the "must-haves," if you will. My first encounter with the Order of the Free Fashion Week Tote took place my very first round of shows, back in September 2008, where (to my intern eyes at least) all the coolest of the cool floating around then-venue Natural History Museum (ahh the good old days...) were sporting black commemorative YSL bags, as the designer had recently passed away. I was desperate to have one and inquired as to where they could be found. After several girls merely pursed their lips in stylish silence to my queries ("if I don't tell her, she'll never get one"), one reluctant fashionista finally fessed up rolling her eyes, "they were given out at the show in Paris last season, you can't get them anywhere, sorry."

YSL free canvas totes again became the-item-to-covet during NYFW back in September 2009, when the brand's US staff took to the streets outside Bryant Park to distribute the first 2,000 of the highly awaited "manifesto" or the campaign published in a 32-page booklets. The bags, featuring an upside down leather-clad Christy Turlington intertwined amongst the house's signature initial logo, were snapped up in a frenzy by those attending the 9AM shows and those of us who rolled out of bed for the noontime lot found ourselves feeling on the outs for the rest of the show calendar. The same season, at London Fashion Week, Jeremy Scott delighted editors other FROWers (and cunning, early-arriving SWAG scouters) by giving out one notch better, a hot pink and black printed nylon bag in collaboration with Longchamp. These freebies still make the rounds at shows to this day, a smug reminder of a possible front row triumph seasons back.

Of course, fashion's favorite freebie didn't stay a means of insider power play forever, and once the recession bloomed in all its glory (hand in hand with a burgeoning public interest in all things green and eco-friendly), canvas bags went mainstream. Anya Hindmarch launched the now iconic and instant sell-out "I'm Not a Plastic Bag" bag in late 2007, and by summer 2009, Karl Lagerfeld (Karl WHO? bags had a fruitful run at Paris' Colette), Vivienne Westwood, Prada and a host of other top-notch designers had followed suit.

In Berlin this past week just gone, the bag to covet was actually that of the official sponsor, Mercedes Benz, which went out to each and every registered member of the accredited press. Yours truly missed the deadline to register and hence felt like the only journo in the whole of Germany without a yellow branded sack with fancy yellow straps (word on the street, the bags of the hometown installment of the automobile's fashion week sponsorships had to outdo those of the bigger and more famous New York counterpart) in which to place my stash of tickets and extra pair of flats. As I toured round Berlin for four days, visiting sites when I wasn't attending shows, the yellow MBBFW bags stood out like beacons on the Underground and the streets, identifying fashion-week-goers more readily than busloads of Chinese scouring maps are pegged as tourists.

I felt decidedly peeved at the fact I couldn't get my mits on one to take home and add to my slightly inappropriate stash, that prickling niggle of exclusion making you feel that you're just not that cool. Even whilst toiling to drag my bag off the conveyor belt at Heathrow's baggage claim last night, still, the elusive yellow bags plagued me, proudly toted home like wartime spoils by the few members of the London fash pack who made the trip as carry-on. So I guess as far as Berlin Fashion Week is concerned, you'll just have to take my word (or my coverage!) for it, that I was actually there.

Head to my www.theclotheswhisperer.co.uk to read my Berlin Fashion Week Spring Summer 2012 coverage or follow me on Twitter!
]]> tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2011:/theblog//3.889861 2011-07-03T14:26:22-04:00 2011-09-02T05:12:01-04:00

Kristin Knox http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-knox/
In a recent rant in the Daily Mail, Liz Jones boldly announced, "the truth is that behind the headlines there is something much more sinister and, ultimately, more damaging and institutionalised going on in fashion." Vogue Italia's egalitarian EIC, Franca Sozzani (she is the creator of All Black Issue of July 2008 and subsequent website, Vogue Italia Black) shot back that things are indeed improving and that media sensationalism of this kind is just that: "When people want to raise controversy in such a narrow and meaningless way, I feel sorry for being a journalist..." wrote Sozzani. "Controversy sells....So fashion is condemned for racism. Without a trial."

But it seems to me that Franca is too quick to exonerate, and that the case of Fashion V. The Status Quo has in fact been tried over and over again, though the verdict never changes, and neither does the industry. So before the champions of fashion re-take the stand to battle out the question once more, they would do well to cast an eye inwards towards a much-overlooked truth, that within the industry, it is the menswear sector, and not the womens' that truly presents a major disappointment on the progressive front. Having just returned from my first ever round of menswear shows in Milan, I was truly struck by the lack of diversity on the catwalks, where the number of black and Asian boys could literally be counted using one hand, if even--tokenism at its most cliché. Some designers even opted out of playing the token card altogether, preferring to send out onto the runway instead small Aryan armies of blonde-haired, blue-eyed, chiseled eighteen-year old clones. But unlike womenswear, where if an entire week of shows passed by showcasing only the who's who of Eastern Europe, an angry picketing mob would literally tear the tents of Lincoln Center rafter from rafter in fury. But when it comes to the boys, no one seems to notice or care.

Jones' article, for instance, was published mere days before the two weeks of menswear shows kicked off on the Continent and Franca's rebuttal posted online in the midst of it all. Yet neither woman even spares a sentence for the boys. Franca writes: "It is true that there are very few black models around. It is also true that those who make it to the top become everlasting stars, from Naomi to Iman, from Pat Cleveland to Jourdan Dunn, to Liya Kebede, Tyra Banks and many more." Not a single male name makes Franca's list.

It's tough enough for girls of color, as Carole White, founder of Premier Model Management explained to Jones, "[In Paris and Milan], they absolutely don't want black girls. A black model has to be a real star before you can take her there. They only take a black girl when the biz is buzzing about her." But in the world of male modeling, where the opportunities to catapult from clothes stallions to "real stars" are few and far between, black men, for one, are often cast in campaigns to fulfill a "prop" like role, hulking anonymous (and shirtless) accessories draped over the arms of their female counterparts, like a Prada fox stole or chunky YSL cuff (Fashion Bomb Daily collates some strong imagery on the subject).

That menswear has long since languished in the shadow of its glamorous womenswear sister, is of course a self-evident fact: men simply don't consume fashion in the same way as women. Tyra has yet to launch America's Next Top Male Model and those who still think "Acne" is the bane of teenage complexions rather than an understated Swedish label would be hard pressed to name a famous male face, even that of current catwalk king and Dolce & Gabbana face, David Gandy. Unlike the now massively mainstream and commercial celebrity-studded soiree that constitutes the womenswear fashion weeks, menswear is still very much an industry-only affair: the general public is not watching. And so, with the boys, the fashion industry can get away with behavior that's less savory and less P.C.. Nobody puts a male model on ana-watch because he logs four-plus hours a day in the gym and sips Creatin for dinner or laments the overt-sexuality of a sixteen year old boy flaunting his greased-up six-pack bundled into a tiny swimsuit on the runway--he's supposed to be the paradigm of testosterone unbridled. And on the flip side, aesthetically, if a lurking stick-thin androgynous ideal, like this season's breakout new face, Karl Morall, who found himself in high demand the moment he stepped off Prada's runway two weeks ago, waifs down the catwalk, no one so much as bats an eyelid (by the way an article in the Mirror in March estimated approximately 10,000 British men suffer from eating disorders, 10-12% of all afflicted in the U.K.). But send a mostly naked, malnourished fifteen-year-old girl out onto the catwalk and words like "pedophile" and "masochistic" tend to drop out of editors' mouths.

But while the boys may be somewhat immune to many of the social stigma faced by their female peers, they are subject to a sort of reverse inequality on the fiscal front. According to Forbes in 2009, a top male model may take home anywhere from $200,000 to $500,000 annually, which pales in comparison to what the top-notch ladies rake in (which can tip the scale into the millions), just like the pornography industry.

"Trust me to end up working in the only industry in the world where women get paid more than men, and treated loads better," stand-alone male supermodel David Gandy told the Sunday Times Style last year. "We're trying to change that. In the hierarchy of a shoot, you have the photographer, the female model, the stylists, the assistants, then the male model. You are the lowest of the low."

Fashion may be an industry that fancies itself to be innovatively liberal and socially ahead-of-the-curve, but it need only look to its treatment of its younger male members to see hypocrisy hard at work, one that the mainstream will not be able to overlook for much longer. As blogs and the mushrooming expanse of social media open up new avenues for new voices to express themselves, a burgeoning community of eager fashionistos has sprung up and in the last year/six months, men's fashion has gained a newfound visibility (what is the launch of Mr. Porter?) and I doubt they'll abide these double standards for too much longer. Who knows, maybe the next campaign Mr. Gandy will front will be that of the equal male model rights movement? I know I'll be there, picket in hand, chants of diversification for all walks of life on all catwalks, poised and at the ready.


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Suggested Further Reading:

http://www.theclotheswhisperer.co.uk/2011/04/here-come-boys-changing-landscape-of.html
http://www.vogue.it/en/magazine/editor-s-blog/2011/06/june-20th
http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/health-news/2011/03/23/anorexic-men-starving-to-death-in-silence-115875-23008675/
http://fashionbombdaily.com/2011/01/25/new-fashion-trend-black-men-as-props/
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2002798/James-Brown-John-Galliano-Fashion-industry-racist-goes-right-core.html

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