So I'm a little late on the draw, and while I try to focus my musings in DC (with the exception of travels, of course), I just couldn't resist a thought or two on the "Vogue aging supermodels" issue. Blogged and written about everywhere (including our own Robin Givhan), the sides are split on whether aging supermodels are a positive or negative thing.
I have to say that I was pleased to see the troika (and the rest of my 90s-era favorites, like Shalom Harlow & Claudia Schiffer) back on the glossy pages. Not only was the issue a refreshing break from the Style-Star-like ode to starlet fashion that seems to have taken over our fashion sensibilities, but I also loved that these women, despite their insane-I-really-should-hate-you-but-I-can't-because-you've-used-your-fame-well-(except-for-Naomi) beauty, appear, at least, remarkably down to earth. Robin goes on a mild rant, saying that we "average women" will never attain anything like their beauty. Robin, I'm not trying to. These women - and their style - are beautiful to look at. I don't want to be them, but I will admire them from afar, and take what I can and apply it to me.*
The best thing about style & fashion is that it, ultimately, comes down to the wearer. These women show me how they would do it, if we all wore crazy plumed outfits right off the runway. But somewhere in there is a reality of art that I can pull for me - and it seems to me that Christy, Linda, Naomi, Shalom, Claudia and their "sisters" would be completely in support of that.
*And on a side note, Shalom is a personal favorite, ever since an old colleague told me that I reminded him of her. This was impressive on a number of counts: 1) no one had ever told me I looked like a supermodel. 2) He, a straight man, knew about Shalom Harlow. 3) no one had ever told me I looked like a supermodel (nor have they since, despite my constant attempts to channel Heidi). Charles told me it wasn't necessarily that I looked like her, but rather that the sense and presence he got from her were like me. Needless to say, I was, and still am, extremely flattered.