This whole concept frustrates me to no end. Fashion has become so much about the scene rather than the clothes, which, in my opinion, is totally backwards. I don't care if Lily Donaldson is dating Carine Roitfeld's son. I don't care if Olivia Palmero is in or out. I don't care who's out at Socialista. I care about the work, the runways, the fashion. When did I become the anomaly?
I'm sorry about the rant. Here, to lighten the mood a little bit, I'll leave you with an unintentionally hilarious, incredibly unintelligible sound byte, brought to you by New Bohemian Arden Wohl (at least, even if I never make it big in this industry, I will be comforted by the fact that I have a brain):
"We're always looking for answers. Some people are looking for it in a socialite maybe. But you know, it just depresses me: Some girl named Peaches who lives in the Bronx…looks at this world and says, 'Oh wow.' And I would never want to give off something that is an illusion, because you hurt people that way. And they're already struggling so much—the people." —Arden Wohl to The New York Observer, 2007
I'm sorry, what?