So these shades quietly exacted my ownership from their little pink box behind the glass. I strolled by, feigning disinterest. She winked knowingly. I came back and pretended to look at the sales part next to it. She flirted in a pretty, powdery, eyelash batting way. She had the polished chicness of a Parisian and the softness of a southern belle. My face turned away gently, but the gaze was locked. She came home under the pretense that she'd leave as soon as I did not love her anymore... Oh pretty, flexible, scratch-proof Miu Miu, I'd love you even if you had no name.
So it is no secret, I love runway designers and, sometimes, that celebrities wear them. If it were not for America Ferrera, I would not have known much about the talented Brian Reyes. There is a certain air of glamour associated with the catwalk and with the concepts and sensibilities thought out by artists of the wear. From Calvin Klein's clean aesthetic and Dolce & Gabbana's unconditional sex appeal to Poleci's experimental cuts and materials, I admire and covet from the other side of the screen. It is art that people have the ability to wear, even if only on the catwalk.
And while the glamorous exclusivity seems like a matter of social status identification, many of us would like a piece better when it is not covered in logos. Sure, temptation may rise to spend a few months of paychecks on an IT item that will look outdated next year. It is also true that a conservative piece with a designer's label on the inside may have the same quality as a mid-price range piece. So what are we to do? I have pondered on this question one too many times while sitting in the train, in my black Armani suit and my thrifted white Brooks Brothers shirt. Are we spending money on fashion when we have little to gain for it?
So the gorgeous designer pieces are not always better made, or look better over time than their mid-price counterparts if we were to take the same care of our YSL as we do of our Theory and our J.Crew. Then our investment would be responsible if there is not a more savvy way to convey the aesthetic, values, and meaning of the designer and the brand.
But when are we not able to distinguish between the greatness of a piece and the greatness of the marketing department? I've come up with one test before I invest in any designer item. It may sound crazy, but: Cover The Logo. Honestly, imagine that the tag and logos were from the least glamorous of brands. If instead of LVs, CCs, or Prada, it said the name of your local meat butchery, and you'd still really want it for that price, then by all means, grab! The piece speaks for itself. But if not, I would re-imagine my shopping-eye pattern.
Exceptional pieces, super talented designers, and truly great brands exist independently of the logo. You would know a fantastic Roland Mouret, Narciso Rodriguez, or Marchessa by the silhouettes, color schemes, and the care that those houses and their designers have taken to create exceptional pieces.
Blush sunglasses, Miu Miu; Maroon belt, vintage thrifted; Nude stilettos, Miss Me; Brown dress, Brian Reyes; Khaki blazer, Theory.
Hugs and kisses,
The Girl at the Atelier's Closet