Appropriated Edge

Bowie was known for his androgynous style. His best looks transcend gender without compromising masculinity. For me, this is one of his most important contributions to fashion. It’s also damned sexy on a man with the charisma to pull it off.

This image from the back of Hunky Dory (his first real masterpiece) is one of his more restrained looks, but it’s also one of his most subversive. Young Dude in a Dress has given way to something altogether more ambiguous: a man dressed as a woman dressed as a man. It’s an out-and-out appropriation of the classic mid-century menswear glamour pioneered by Coco Chanel, Katharine Hepburn and Marlene Dietrich.

I don’t think he ever improved on this as a template for androgynous style that transcends the very notion of gender altogether. It’s both genders simultaneously and yet it is neither. It brings to mind Helmut Newton’s iconic shots of Le Smoking, which move beyond mere cross-dressing and suggest an erotic synthesis of both masculine and feminine archetypes.

But wait. This mysterious creature is next seen out and about pushing a pram in the company of another glamorous androgyne. The first Mrs Bowie is sporting high boots, proto-Ziggy hair and a teddy-fur jacket. Hard to tell at a glance which of this couple of kooks is the mother of the child and which the father.

Incidentally, the teddy-fur is the very same one worn by Bowie in the picture on the front of the album, leaving one wondering whether Ziggy Stardust wasn’t first conceived when Bowie randomly plundered his wife’s closet.

I already said that I consider The Thin White Duke to be “my” Bowie (everybody has one, they just need to find him) but that was yesterday and today I realise that the Bowie I’m more likely to reference when getting dressed is of the early seventies Ziggy Stardust/Aladdin Sane/Diamond Dogs era.

By this time, he’d already had an impact in his Mr Fish dresses (if I had anything like that in the wardrobe, you can be sure I’d be wearing it this week) and he was onto exploring an even more radically androgynous persona.

Japanese designer Kansai Yamamoto had moved to London in 1971, and was concerned with adapting traditional Japanese forms into a very modern look. The aesthetic is pure Kabuki theatre, with bold colours and exaggerated silhouettes. Bowie was eager to wear his creations, and hired him for the Aladdin Sane tour. The rest, as they say, is fashion history.

Fun facts:

• the inscription in kanji on the white cape is a homophone for David Bowie. It translates as “Fiery vomiting and venting in a menacing manner”. 
• the rabbit onesie was worn by Kate Moss to collect an award on Bowie’s behalf. 

The starting point for today’s outfit was Terry O’Neill’s amazing Diamond Dogs photograph. I love the short pants with platform boots. But the main reference point is the tricot jumpsuit.

I am completely obsessed with this garment. True confession: this is the kind of thing I would wear all the time if I thought for a moment I could get away with it (I always wanted a Pam Hogg jumpsuit) and now I discover that there may be a knitting pattern for it. I have to learn to knit.

Until that happens, I am making do with a vaguely body con knit dress from Sonia Rykiel pour H&M accessorised with a shearling scarf in lieu of a feather boa. Or an asymmetric patterned sweater with gold pants (reposted) another direct reference to this look. Or even the vintage Kansai top that you all politely but firmly talked me out of last month.

In fact, I can go back through any number of looks from the last year or so and see an awful lot of Bowie in my style, which is unsurprising when I think about it. It’s Bowie’s world, after all. I just live in it.

In the second instalment of bereavement therapy by wardrobe, I chose to emulate my personal favourite Bowie incarnation.

The Thin White Duke is the first Bowie I came to know and still what I think of when I hear his name. Vulnerably aloof and repellently alluring, between California and Europe, blue-eyed soul and krautrock, starring in The Man Who Fell to Earth and recording Station to Station, possibly the album I love the most. 

This is Bowie at his most romantic. The style is minimal, refined, dissipated, shot like Hollywood noir, the cigarette smoke never stale. A white shirt dishevelled, neck suggestively open, black fitted vest and tailored pants, wrapped around a slight, dangerous man ready to whisk you away in the back of a dream car twenty foot long.

It's not the side effects of the cocaine. I'm thinking that it must be love. 

This is harsh. I'm thinking in lyrics right now so you'll have to forgive the incoherence (brain hurt like a warehouse, it had no room to spare).

Once in a while, you loose someone in the public domain who really matters to you. When Alexander McQueen passed, I was upset for days and couldn't look at any fashion for weeks (it's loud and it's tasteless and I've heard it before).

But this, this is worse. I can't think of another artist, designer, musician or icon who's had a deeper, more profound influence on my sense of style than David Bowie. I know I'm not alone in this: if you doubt me, try to imagine what popular culture would look like without him (she opened strange doors we'll never close again).

When the news broke this morning, I didn't need to think about it. I instinctively reached for a sharp shouldered velvet jacket and gold pants, two things I've never put together before which probably wouldn't exist without him. I've always thought they'd be a bit much flash for one outfit, (trying hard to fit among your scheme of things) but today they're just right.

You can probably tell my heart's not in it (your face is a mess) but today is Day 1 of my Bowie challenge. This week, I'm going to dress more like my hero, and I'd love it if you join me, because I know there's more where this came from. With so many faces to choose from, who could fail to be inspired?

My recent trip to Japan inspired me to explore the relaxed silhouettes and low-key styles that emerged in the wake of normcore. I should have seen it coming because the signs had been all over the Asian street style blogs for months. In case you didn’t already know, normcore is the slippery concept that dressing in an unremarkably normal way is somehow fashionable.

Confused? You will be.

The problem with normcore as it appeared in Europe and the US is that it’s so blandly nondescript that you can’t get away with it unless you’re a bright young thing or a middle-aged white guy, in which case go ahead. In Japan, though, the raw materials to take an idea like this and run with it are all in place. They've got avant-garde fashion, awesome school uniforms and Uniqlo, all of which ground the concept in something altogether more stylish to begin with. Only the Japanese could elevate unremarkable clothing to an art form.

It looks a bit dull at first glance but in action it makes a certain kind of sense: a back-to-basics aesthetic that's not so much about keeping up appearances as enjoying the clothes for their own sake. There's a strange liberation to be found in embracing a non-identity and nothing's more comforting in cold weather than loose-fitting pants and a big woolly jumper. Then again, baggy head to toe is challenging and I’m not getting dressed without considering how it all fits together. There's got to be a certain attention to detail and I can't resist a statement shoe.

So here’s my take on Japanese normcore with two favourite jumpers and accompanying source material. I’m very comfortable in both these looks and I’ll be wearing more like them this winter. Just not every day.

1.
I like to think of this man’s sweater as the normest of the normcore. It is lovely, but there’s nothing remotely fashionable about it, as I discovered when I tried to write about it on my short-lived blog last year. The only way to style it is to embrace its geezerly quality and team it with slouchy mannish pants and the type of shoes your sleazy uncle might wear. Mon Oncle indeed.

2.
This is fancier, but only slightly. My all-time favourite woolly jumper (>10 y.o Pringle) worn with oversized denim pants by Christophe Lemaire, found on the deepest of deep discounts in the women’s department (I’m pretty sure they’re menswear.) Outstanding cut and fabrication, very dubious fit. Finished off with a pair of Japanese kawaii sneakers so high-concept they’re mildly absurd.

I have the vaguest of doubts about these sneakers, even though they fill me with irrational joy. I can’t take them back and I never saw myself in Stan Smiths anyway, but are they a little OTT?

I'm still a little jet lagged and I can't begin to describe what an amazing experience it was to travel in Japan, but I can at least show off some spoils. 

I had a niche in my wardrobe for a pair of white sneakers and I started stalking these flatforms before I left. They're by Tokyo Bopper, a cult street wear brand I discovered on style-arena.jp. They've had a shop in Harajuku since the early '90's, which makes them a bit of a local institution. I made a bee-line for it on my first night in Tokyo to check them out so I'd have plenty of time to think about it before we returned to the city two weeks later.

The idea was to round out my denim capsule so I'll be wearing these mostly with loose-fitting jeans, but I can't resist  a bit of shameless kawaii styling too. A little juvenile perhaps, but why should the kids have all the fun? I'm wearing them today with my pleather midi by BACK and my new-ish winter fur, which, when worn upside down, goes nicely over a backpack, which is just as well because I had a lot to carry today. 

Which brings me to the kawaii overload detail: a frog purse by seto design which I bought at the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum half way through the trip. This little fellow made many friends in his subsequent travels, strapped to a battered Longchamps Pliage. Almost everywhere I went someone made a nice comment, which just goes to show that when you don't know the language you can always speak fashion. 

There's another travel souvenir here, a football scarf from FC St Pauli which I bought in Hamburg. The club was the first in Germany to ban right-wing nationalists from its matches and the slogan on the scarf reads "St Pauli Fans Gegen Rechts". The look might work better without it, but I'm wearing it all the same. Here's why.

Because of recent events in Paris and Brussels, which feel so very close to home, Europe is not the same now as when I left it. I put on the scarf today because like the frog it reminds me that whatever language you speak, things like fashion and football can bring us all together, even though some people would use them otherwise. 

And that's what makes a great community. Skylurker, Inge and all other fabbers in France and Belgium, I'm thinking of you. 

In limbo between designs in draft, works in progress and completed prototypes, I’m taking a breather for a couple of days while I work out what to do next. My therapist encouraged me to take the pressure off this flurry of activity and focus on planning my daily routine. Wise advice.

In the meantime, here’s another prototype. The germ of this idea dates back to AM’s awesome saddlebag wrap, which made me want to wear faux fur again. I stalked the fabric back then and finally went back for it at the end of the summer by which time there was almost nothing left on the roll. I bought what I could comfortably afford and took it home.

My original sewing plan for the winter was for two garments: a fur vest I could layer over jackets and a plain black coat in something else. Then at some point I realised that the blouse that became a bomber jacket could also be a reversible coat which would convert into a wrap, filling both of these criteria and then some. You get the idea.

Mixing up the fur on one side with a piece of alpaca (miraculously found on Amsterdam’s Monday fabric market) and a black nylon shell on the other gives a garment with many applications. I like the glam meets boho meets urban vibe of the thing and it seems to go with almost everything. It’s comfortable over a tee in milder weather and I expect to wear it later in the season over a leather jacket. The waterproof fabric means I can flip it and wear it in the rain without drenching the pelt.

Here’s the thing though. It’s a design with potential and I want to make more like it. But unlike the bomber jacket there’s a problem with the economics - materials alone are expensive and fur is challenging to sew. This leaves me wondering how I can make this coat happen.

As ever, your thoughts and comments are most gratefully received. 

In computer development, one of the golden rules of prototyping is that you should plan to throw one away, because you will anyway.

Well. I hate wasted effort, let alone wasted fabric, so I've modified my planning. The ones I should otherwise throw away will get the ultimate sanity check. This means that all mistakes in the production process have to be put right and the end result needs to be wearable. The downside of this is that everything goes together in a way that supports design decisions rather than easy construction, so sewing these up can sometimes feel like a monumental effort.

The first item is a bomber jacket based on the one piece blouse I showed a few weeks ago. When I posted that one I didn’t show off its coolest feature: you can turn it upside down and wear it as a shrug. I worked the concept through on this garment, adding a vent in the back that converts into a draped collar. In principle it’s also reversible which means four looks for the price of one. The downside it that now I don’t know where to put the label.

I’ve used a piece of vintage fabric, cotton broadcloth with metallic studs. It was gifted to me quite some years ago by a friend who bet me at the time that I couldn’t get a bomber jacket out of two square meters. It’s taken me a while to figure it out but I reckon I won the wager. I managed to get a few shots in the evening sun to show off the sparkle, but if I make more of these they’ll probably be in sober tweed or glamorous silk and not trashy sequins.

The second is a draped tunic with bandage sleeves that close with thumb loops. This is not particularly short on material but I can claim close to zero waste. It’s good fun to wear and people seem to like it but it’s not terribly practical and I’m still looking the perfect fabric for it. It also needs bra loops because even with a pin it’s hard to wear without flashing a bit of strap.

For the picture I was inspired by all the talk about brooches last week to pin it up with a bizarre object my sister gave me. I have no idea who made this or what they were thinking of, but I find it strangely appealing. Nevertheless, British comedy fans will know exactly what I’m talking about when I say it reminds me of that episode in the second series of Blackadder where Percy uses alchemy to create something green and goes on to make jewellery that looks like snot.

Both outfits feature the pants that were the starting point for my minimal waste pattern cutting project. I wanted to create a pair of trousers out of a meter of fabric that didn't look like pyjamas. After some trial and error and a lot of draping I dropped the crotch, moved the inseam to the front and curved the hem, which gives shape in the leg and volume in the seat. Not everyone’s cup of tea but I’ve found them very wearable and they’ve been in heavy rotation throughout the summer. Styled with my Trippen platforms, because I read somewhere that statement boots with cropped pants were A Thing this year.

So please tell me, what do you think? Does a convertible jacket appeal to you? Would you wear a bandage sleeve? Do these pants look cool or sloppy? Your critical comments and feedback on each of these garments is very much appreciated.

So I've been somewhat scarce lately. I may have something to say about this in an off-topic post at some point, but suffice to say I've cut back drastically on social media while I try to get my chaotic life into some kind of order. And I've been pretty slack on taking photos lately, so there's that.

But I haven't forgotten you guys and it's always a pleasure to look in on what you're all wearing, so I'd like to return the favour and share a few looks I did manage to shoot. 

I've been dressing almost exclusively from a very limited colour palette this summer. This is some sort of challenge or experiment, as I find myself increasingly attracted to the idea of developing a signature (method?) based on cool, high contrast compositions. I'm not sure where I'm going with this yet but it feels like a move toward something more streamlined. 

And I'm not averse to repeating myself. If a look makes me feel good, it gets multiple outings. All but one of these has been out and about more than once this season. 

First out of the box is a favourite look which I've been wearing for a few years now. One of my go-to summer looks, a top and skirt I made myself that always demand to be worn together. Sandals by Trippen.

The second is a reproduction of a vintage Issey Miyake design from the early 90's. I cut the pattern ages ago and I finally got around to putting it together last month. I made a few modifications as I was going along, substituting an open necked collar with a high neckline and introducing a fly front with some stitching detail. The yoke, bib and cuffs are made from a textured poly cotton blend, and the body and sleeves from a sheer batiste. I'm pretty happy with it but dreading the first wash. 

Third look is a piece I made from a Jean Charles de Castelbajac design that turned up improbably in Burda last Christmas. I used felted organic wool and trimmed it with leather left over from another project. It has a very interesting pocket detail. I thought it would be a winter garment but it's turned out to be a very useful topper on cooler summer days. Worn with a vintage plisse skirt and a tee-dress I bought in Barcelona. 

Fourth is the one I'm least sure about, a printed tee with a chambray midi from House of Holland and sandals by Bernhard Wilhelm for Camper. I love the pop-art vibe of the two prints together, but I wonder if it looks a bit juvenile. 

As ever, your wise and thoughtful feedback is much appreciated. 

I made this jumpsuit out of Vlisco fabric, the classic Dutch wax print popular in West Africa. It's lovely to wear in hot weather, the need for an occasional swift exit notwithstanding. Did you know they're called jumpsuits for all those times you need to jump out of them quickly? Let's just say I'm glad I used snap fasteners and not buttons. 

Much as I love this garment, I tend to think these colours are a little "off" on me. The bold print in navy blue is very much in my wheelhouse, but the khaki and olive background is perhaps a little warm for my cool colouring. 

As I discovered from the lovely jackiec, once you dye your hair in opposition to your natural colouring, all bets are off. I've been experimenting with the Winter colour palette and reached the conclusion I'm probably a Deep masquerading as a Bright due to the red hair dye which I'm not willing to abandon.

With this in mind, I'm hoping the effect of the red in my hair is enough to offset the cool and play nicely with the saturated olive in the print. And if I wear these sunnies with the brown lenses, maybe that intensifies the effect? Do the white sliders add enough of a cooling accent, or are they completely mismatched?

Did I get away with it? Is this JFE?