We love our personal rituals, don't we?
Besides the big occasions that mark our lives - holidays, birthdays,
spiritual or religious events, anniversaries - we each have our
private, singular rites that we choose to do to help us get through
our days with our skin intact, make life a tad more interesting and
meaningful, or just improve the quality of our mundane world. Little
rituals.
And those of you who are kind enough to
frequent these pages know that one of mine is to get up very early on
the designated Sunday and drive many miles to show up for the first
hours of availability of Target collaborations with designers like
Issack Mizrahi, Prabal Garung or Phillip Lim. These events happen
only a couple of times a year and feature the ideas of designers
whose work I will never get to wear in any other way. My husband
doesn't have to participate in this rite but he does, 'cause he's
just that kind of guy. I'm the only woman who has turned up recently
for these events at our local Target ... there's no fanfare, no
excitement, no long lines of eager customers ... just me and Dan, my
sleepy chauffeur.
Very early morning me, waiting for Target to open. As there was no line, I opted to
play on the architectural elements of the store front. As one does.
And looking more comfortable than I was in the the cold.
We weren't going to do it this time,
but we did. The weather was against the local debut ... it was very
cold and gray and I understand why sensible women stayed home. We
decided to show up just so someone in the area would be there to offer a little interest and at least fly the flag.
Ritual was satisfied, but that was
about it, because I was underwhelmed by the collection when I
actually got to touch it and try things on. This collection has
lots of beautiful and interesting qualities and the pieces are going
to be fabulous on some women, somewhere, but I am clearly not the
woman that these designers had in mind as the customer.
Peter Pilotto, the brand (which is not
just one guy, but both Mr. Pilotto and his design cohort Christopher
De Vos as a team,) is famous for their bright prints. The
collaboration didn't disappoint on that front. The prints were vivid
and of-the-moment, and look fabulous on the very tall models wearing
them in the ads. The pre-mixed prints were fun to look at, but the
love wasn't coming back to me when I tried them on. The very
interesting patterns were overwhelming on the racks, and just as
overwhelming on my very short frame. Many of the colors were more
acidic than is flattering on me. Many of the pieces had raglan
sleeves, and I don't wear those well. Others had cap sleeves, and
ditto on those as unflattering for me. There was quite a lot of
neoprene, which can result in a sculptural coolness, but I didn't
really like how it was applied to this collection. Lookbooks are neat
for previewing collections, but you don't get the tactile feedback.
Three racks total for our small Target ...
this center rack and two smaller ones on either side
Meh.
I counted only 17 items out of the
70-something items in the entire collection, and only one of the
items I thought I might like was available. I did like a red, blue
and black summer dress, and I did try it and buy it, and you'll see
it here eventually. It will require alterations, as so many items
do, but I know I'll like it when I'm finished.
This completed ritual wasn't an
unqualified success for me, but it was a refresher-lesson on three
pretty important concepts.
The first is this: not all style ideas
are suited to all women, but the part for me to remember is that it
wasn't my fault the line didn't work perfectly for me. Most of the
silhouettes weren't flattering for me, and the garment needs to work
for the wearer and not the other way around. This I learned from Tim
Gunn.
The second is that when I alter a
garment to suit my figure or taste, I get to become a part of the
creative process. The designer makes a template for me to finish and
adapt and make my own. That applies to fit alterations, but also to
styling choices that we all make when we decide how WE choose to wear
an item.
And finally, when I alter an item to
fit my specific frame, it ceases to be any size other than mine.
Rather than a size 6, or an 8 or a 10 or a size 12, it becomes "size
Jan." The item becomes really my own. And when you look at
it that way, how cool that?
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and Fashion Week Reporting Seeker at