When it was first pointed out to me that I have a “thing” for stripes, I protested vehemently – simply for the fact that I hate to be predictable. And yet take me out of my quirky routines in any way and I am like an ant dusted with talc powder, hopelessly lost to my path. It wasn’t until said accuser led me into my clothes room (yes, I have a room for my clothes, whatevs) and pointed to my stripe draw and stripe hanging section, that I conceded defeat.
So imagine my joy to see so many stripes on the New York catwalks. And if I had a diary that went far enough ahead for in-store delivery of summer ’10 stock, I would definitely write a reminder to tear out and buy this Karen Walker striped dress.
With less intention to buy, but no less love, I, along with many others from what I gather, am nuts for the Rodarte collection, though I admit an unfeasible amount of this enthusiasm is attributable to the tattooed arms – do they come with the collection? Will I still love them in the morning?
The perforated trend identified by the analysts may be hard to pull off without the sensible aid of undergarments, but my, it looks sharp at Y-3 by Yohji Yamamoto. My friend Mr Yamamoto is the man. Well not friend exactly, acquaintance perhaps. Breakfast companion. Ok, once when I was having my omelette au fin herbs outside Les Deux Magots in Paris, he was inside having a cup of tea. Close enough, I felt we bonded.