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Trashionistas, and other Sartorial Miscreants
Manhattan is known for being a hub of all things fashion, but even hubs have their shaky spots. Bergdorfs is a Baccarat ashtray’s throw away from Abercrombie and Fitch, and poor little Prada-Soho has to spend its days trying to ignore the coos over the checked mini skirts and faux-fur-lined hoodies of its neighbor, American Eagle (do you think the stores’ respective customers ever go through the wrong doors –Miuccia dabbling in bunnies, snowflakes, and Americana-lite? No wonder it’s on 3500% mark-down).
Our own street, St. Marks Place, is famed for its er, alternative approach to style, and nary a day goes by where we don’t see doc-martened ghost-faced teens oggling Trash and Vaudville’s patent-leather pleasures. While less than aesthetically appealing, the goths, anarchists, wikkens, and sundry disillusioned at least make for interesting scenery. This morning, however a quartet of patchwork Uggs, fake-distressed minis, and Coach logo bags inspired us to create this, a list of the most irritating looks running rampant in our city. Feel free to add on….
- The “why doesn’t Tory Burch put the shiny metal logos on everything?!”
- The “Chloe Sevigny’s Opening Ceremony collection is genius. All of it. Even the calico jumpsuit. Especially the calico jumpsuit.”
- The “Avril Lavigne is my style goddess. Kan’t w8 4 her nu Khols’ line!”
- The “Nobody gets me, except Dov Charney”
- the “True Life: I’m from the South Shore” (go watch it on mtv.com. we’re not kidding.)
- the “True Life: I’m not from the Bronx but once my boys at V.I.M. are through with me, I might as well be.” (Because my Mets love can’t be contained within a normal-sized hat and jersey.)
- Men who carry Longchamp “briefcases.” Drop them. Right now.
- Men who pretend they’re wearing Nantucket reds and nautical belts ironically, but really aren’t
- The “I was the hot girl in high school,” east coast division: xxs abercrombie “humor” tees and denim belts masquerading as mini-skirts, hollister versions of the same, classic Uggs, a touch of J. Crew, artfully tattered Project E polos, triple-layered Lacoste, logo bags, North Face fleeces
- The “I was the hot girl in high school,” west coast division: Abercrombie/Hollister, Juicy gym(ish) wear, limited edition Uggs, Primp long underwear, Free City studded sweat shirts, rhinestoned sevens and rock and republics, uber-frayed true religions, Louis Vuitton speedy (See Cavallari, Kristin)
- The “I was the hot girl in high school,” south division: Like her east coast counterpart, minus the north face and plus an obnoxiously large strand of pearls
- The “I was the hot girl in high school,” florida division: Bebe, Marciano, A/X, shirts as dresses, jersey/spandex, satin/spandex, designer flip-flops, Guess? logo bags (see Hogan, Brooke)
- The “I was friends with the hot girl in high school, sort of, when we were 6: Smaterings of blatant Abercrombie and Hollister, foach bags, more than a touch of American Eagle and even (quelle horreur) Aeropostal