inspiration: buttercup’s beloved
Is there any movie more universally cherished than the witty storybook romance of The Princess Bride? Buttercup’s forbidden love for her darling and his determination to rescue her is the stuff of tween dreams (and pop songs). Without fail, Westley’s obedient “As you wish,” always makes our hearts pitter-patter (as does his adorable blonde ponytail once he’s become the Man in Black). And then there’s the endearing duo of vengeful Spaniard Inigo Montoya and lovable giant Fezzik… It’s practically the greatest story ever told! (And yes, I think Fred Savage could attest to that.) So imagine my excitement when I discovered hints of hunky Westley in the draped, knotted blouses at Givenchy, the layered cowl-neck dresses at Ann Demeulemeester, in the gathers and folds of the tunics at Donna Karan, even in the caped, turbaned crusaders at Jean Paul Gaultier! Enchantingly romantic and powerfully strong, the inspiration of our charming hero is irresistible. And for Buttercup once she’s been rescued by her lover? An ethereal Nina Ricci gown, of course! If only life could always be like a fairy-tale… until then at least we’ll have the clothes.
Beachside runway shows. Coca Light handlers. iPod archivers. Personal entourages made up of dazzling male models and muses. Is there any fashion icon more ostentatiously fabulous than the supreme Karl Lagerfeld? The answer is a clear no, as yesterday the Chanel designer staged an extravagant production for the label’s upcoming cruise collection on a Venetian boardwalk, pretty boys and glamorous gowns in tow. 
Anyone recognize the repulsive terror to the left? (Yes, folks, that is me. I styled myself in a walk of shame outfit just for you.) You’ve probably seen some variation of the try-hard princess riding a baby blue fixed gear down the boardwalk, treating herself to a striped sweater, or perhaps making a mockery out of herself at the nearest pub. Could the tackiness get any worse? It would seem impossible, what with trashiness, uniformity, and vulgarity collectively topping the list as the prime sins of today’s hipster brigade, yet they continue to infiltrate our society, taking control of the once cool and once unique individuals and turning them into empty-headed zombies. Their “rebellious” fringed scarves never end! The tattered leggings just won’t die! Their rainbow-hued buffalo plaids scar the eyes! Needless to say, the scenesters’ dishearteningly tasteless sartorial choices and vapid inspirations are giving me (and every other sober human being) a giant headache. Something must be done, and we’re not talking a complete destruction of the Lower East Side (though that might help). Never one to leave any fellow in the dark, I’m going to help guide our foolish, er- absolutely delightful!, poseur readers onto the path of fashion enlightenment. Those that once harbored a penchant for the tawdry will be schooled in the craft of simplicity, silhouettes will be cleaned of messy layers, and dirty denims will be washed away to make room for the sleek and figure-flattering. Fabulous idea, right? I know, for you actual hipsters it may be a hard concept to accept. For whatever reason, you actually like dressing in a costume everyday. And then there are the ones that just won’t admit that they’re a part of the modern youth-quake crowd in the first place- denial is always the first sign that you’re one of… them. But when your everyday outfits resemble anything close to my “peace, love, and sailing” concoction on the left, you’ve got an obviously tragic case of the wannabes. Amusing, isn’t it? I pity the fool. Now click continue reading to find out how to lose the lameness before Doctor MJ loses her head.
Remember six weeks ago when we asked you, yes you, fabulous modelizing fans, to vote for your favorite mannequin? Raging cat fights ensued, kung-fu champions introduced (please don’t hurt us Karls…), and Louboutins became even more wickedly dangerous than Kim Jong-il. We laughed, we cried, we cheered… and we sent snail mail to modeling agencies mourning over their girls’ ravaged manicures. Amidst all this torturous turmoil, the tournament received over ten-thousand votes (!), and one model emerged victorious. So who’s the lucky looker? All hail Denmark’s dark horse Freja Beha Erichsen! Stunning, risk-taking, rebellious, and edgy, it’s no surprise the inked tomboy has won herself a smitten, dedicated fan base, one that includes the ever-faithful Karl Lagerfeld, Frida Giannini, and Carine Roitfeld as adoring admirers. She shot down Lara, Coco, Raquel, and Sasha, a miraculous feat considering those girls have racked up dozens of campaigns and beauty deals, been hailed as modern supermodels, and posed on covers for the fashion gods at American Vogue. Is it obvious I was rooting for Lily Donaldson in the finals? Not a registered Freja fan or a particular enthusiast of unconventional beauty, I consider Freja’s range to be weaker than her aforementioned peers and therefore find her a less faceted model. But that is not to discredit her statement-making attributes that have won over legions of followers: she possesses an arresting angsty quality that is unmatched by any of her compatriots, she can simultaneously exude strength and vulnerability, she’s a trailblazer for androgynous beauty, and, amazingly, she can pull off any tweedy Chanel number without looking like an old lady. And of course, can anyone else rock such a wide variety of iconic hairstyles with such a chic, devil-may-care attitude? Not a chance. Freja is absolutely one and her own, and for that we are overjoyed to welcome her into the Pretty Young Thing Hall of Fame. Click continue reading for more of Freja’s work.
