Mad about Missoni

A silence hung heavily in the air.  The shelves, once stocked full, were bare as a post-menopausal woman's womb.  What remained behind were odds and ends strewn across the floor and hung sloppily on racks.

Empty shelves at Target

Apocalyptic vision?  Nope, I'm talking about the aftermath that followed the Missoni for Target launch.

Years ago, when I lived in New York, I worked for Missoni.  Twice a year for a week at a time, I was booked to model in the showroom in their store on Madison Avenue.  What that meant for me was that I got to try on every sample in each season's collection-- from shoes and stockings to scarves, accessories, dresses and more.  Those crazy stripes really worked their way into my subconscious, but I was never able to afford anything.

Enter the Missoni for Target line.  I thought my dream of owning Missoni was about to come true, but alas, it was not to be.  By the time I got there yesterday evening after work, the only Missoni items left were children's clothes, and a lone pair of heels (in my size!).  The good news (I'm trying to look on the bright side) is that I did not go crazy spending tons of money on everything Missoni.  And, I wasn't put in a position where I had to choose what to take home with me and what to leave in the store.  It's okay.  Really.  Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

If only I were a 7-year-old girl, this skirt would fit me.

But wait... what's this?  Is that more Missoni I spy?  At Forever 21?  Huh?  Is there a Missoni for Forever 21 collection?  Hmmm... this is curious...

Missoni for Forever 21?

Don't be fooled, ladies!  Yes, that looks like Missoni, but it's not the real deal.  Tricky, tricky Forever 21!


In related news, do think that's a Missoni for Target shirt that Charlie is wearing?  Lucky fellow... I wonder what time he had to get in line in order to get that shirt?

Do I or Don't I?

I found this dress online and REALLY want it. It's a bit pricey though, and I'm a bit poor. But I LOVE it!

Retail Therapy

The best thing about the Fall is the clothes.
~Autumn R.

The first thing I did after landing in Philadelphia on Tuesday was catch the Chinatown Bus up to New York City where I was reunited with my friends. It's been a fun couple of days getting back into the swing of things: hanging out in bars, spending way to much, and wearing my feet out as I walk around town.

Last night as I was getting money out of the ATM, I realized that my bank account is beginning to dip dangerously low. There's a couple of reasons for this. For starters, I just passed a month in LA, where I had to drop almost a $1000 in rent alone, not to mention the cost of entertainment and food. In addition, I'm actually owed a bit of money from various jobs that seem to take forever to pay (with one dating as far back as early 2007... and everyone wonders why models are so skinny-- we're just waiting to get paid!). The other reason, however, is a new penchant for shopping that I curiously developed right around when I started my new anti-anxiety medicine.

Now, I've never been much of a shopper. I'm cheap-- meaning just about everything I have of value has been handed down to me. I've always preferred Goodwill and the Salvation Army to places like Macy's and Banana Republic. Suddenly, though, this has all changed. I find myself salivating over that cute dress in the Anthropologie catalogue, admiring last season's swimsuits at Urban Outfitters.com (which, by the way, has a great price adjustment policy. If their price drops in 14 days, you can call and they'll adjust the price for you. I know this because of my new found addiction to shopping). Moreover, whereas before I had the willpower not to make extravagant purchases, now that ability seems to have deserted me.

There is a term in fashion merchandising known as Planned Obsolescense. According to wikipedia it can be defined as "the process of a product becoming obsolete or non-functional after a certain period or amount of use in a way that is planned or designed by the manufacturer." When it applied to fashion it means that clothes are made with the plan that they will soon be out of fashion, or obsolete as it were.

I find this terribly interesting. We make clothes knowing that soon people won't want to be wearing them. It is disposable fashion. I myself am a product of this culture as I find that I am quickly bored of my wardrobe and eager to buy more to fill it. What an endless cycle!

Amidst a conversation with my girlfriends earlier tonight (which prompted my friend Autumn's great quote above), I was struck by putting together my knowledge of the Fall and my love of clothing. In Genesis 3:7 of the Bible, we see man after the fall, and he is making himself a covering of leaves. We see God create garments from animal skins for both Adam and Eve in Genesis 3:21. This is very simplistic, and misses a bigger picture of God's sacrifice for our sin, but I'm blaming the Fall for my recent retail addiction, as well as this principle of planned obsolescence. Isn't it interesting that we keep trying to cover ourselves, or make ourselves better by what we wear and yet it is never good enough? Why is what we wear not enough to make us feel adequate? (That, my dear reader, is a rhetorical question meant to make you ponder from where you're deriving your sense of meaning.) It's just the beginnings of a theory, but I think I'm onto something here...