As I write this, we have just finished watching our friend Timothy Greenfield-Sanders’ excellent documentary about aging models: "About Face." Tim was the director of XXX, a documentary about porn stars that Whitley appeared in.

I grew up with these ladies, thumbing through the pages of fashion magazines, while wondering if I would ever look anything like them or be able to own the stunning clothes they were photographed wearing.

As I saw those ladies swirling around the photography studio in high fashion frocks in Timothy’s film, I got the answer to both questions: No, I won’t ever be as beautiful as they are (even though one of the models, Carmen Dell’Orefice, is now over 80–but still beautiful) and no, I won’t ever own clothes like that (but now, thank goodness, I don’t WANT them).

I got to thinking about fashion where I live: There are ball gowns in the windows of the boutiques around here, but I can’t figure out who buys them–everybody I see wears jeans and tee shirts. The LA uniform that you can always spot at the airport is: baseball cap on backwards, tee shirt with name of a rock band on it, baggy shorts and flip flops. And now that plastic bags have been outlawed, the Angelino will often be carrying a shopping bag as well.

I just realized what the fashion image is around here: The image of a HOMELESS person! This is a very "P.C." part of town, where a lot of homeless people sleep out on the beach, so I guess this is sort of a sartorial comment on that.

It’s a lot different than wanting to emulate Isabella Rossallini, Jerry Hall, China Machado, Marisa Berenson or Carol Alt.

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1 Comment

  1. A boyfriend of a friend gave
    A boyfriend of a friend gave her a gift of a fur coat. A fur coat. Where can she even WEAR that? Russia?

    Next time there’s a winter power outage, I’ll ask her to lend me that. I’ll be tweedling down the street, a fur ball with feet, arm extended out against the winter wind, because these things don’t come with a hood I figure.

    As far as gifts go, it was like a desperate gasping *ohgodI’lljustgetherTHIS* kind of gift. Good bless em, guys with no fashion sense (and me too, me as well!)

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