While standing in line at the supermarket, I hoisted a copy of this month’s Vogue. It’s as big as a phone book, so I can’t say I picked it up. The customer in front of me wore a lilac cotton tiered skirt paired with a top in a discordant blue, black and white geometric pattern.
A four page ad promoting the concept of football motifs as fashion assets provoked me into breaking my usual editorial silence on, let’s say, the class of things I don’t like. Maybe it was seeing the ad just after that skirt and top combination, whose colors weren’t on speaking terms. Most of the models in the editorial section of the magazine wore no necklaces, not even ugly ones, — not even with V-neck or deep decolletage necklines that could have used the visual break. That’s bad news for me and my ilk, but there was more.
One spread showed an annoyed-looking young woman in a series of expensive-looking locations, wearing graceless clothing and large shoes, her hair raked back into a Viagra ponytail. Please look the magazine up if you care to: I have no wish to publicize esthetic I don’t agree with, nor to be sued for using their images; I merely wish to kvetch, you see, which is my right as a powerless art major. I will pass over the orthopedic footwear in silence, as shoes are not my thing.
I have weathered lean fashion eras before–which I define as a dearth of good-looking, easily available art jewelry and clothing– but I really think we have hit rock bottom.
It is possible that for various lifestyle, political, and economic reasons, fashionable women have no wish to wear jewelry which suggests sumptuousness, art, art history, or the richness and colors of nature. Also, it’s impossible to want what you don’t see. The internet places a visual treasury in our hands, but if you don’t know what to ask for, names such as Miriam Haskell (fl. 1930’s -1960’s) or Stephen Dweck (ca. 1990) mean nothing.
If something beautiful is not on a screen, it is deemed worthless, whether it is sunlight on healthy living beings, or an opaline glass bead, or a flower, or a bead shaped like a flower, or so it seems in my more paranoid moments. I look at the internet a lot –ask anyone– but I look at the world, and a fortunate education in the arts has given me many good names and images to ask to see. Many students these days don’t get standard-issue education in the visual arts, for some reason I cannot fathom, so how can they ask for names and images they never heard of?
A desert is forming: self-reinforcing visual sterility, ignorance of ignorance.
Jittery, patterned fabrics in harsh colors unkind to all complexions suggest the formation of an esthetic based on digital imagery rather than the older standard of beauty based on nature as inspiration. The women’s football clothing ad may have been a fluke but it suggests an ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em’ resignation.
When colors are quantified into approved yearly color groups (which to my eyes always look like the same set of colors under different names, but it could just be my screen) set by a company I used to know as a color ink matching service for offset printing, a vacancy at the top is suggested.
There is an old term for the acts of literate thinkers who failed to provide help to their illiterate brethren when it was in their power: trahison des clercs, or treason of clerks. (‘Clerk’ was the going term for literate in general, when they were in the minority.) I believe that humans have a thirst for beauty during their brief lives which is being denied for various spurious reasons such as ‘edginess’ by designers who have the potential to do better.
I would love to be proved wrong, or to prove myself wrong.