Avant-garde: the latest on the newest in fashion's 'now'

You know those successful and fortunate individuals that, when they have a job to do, they just go right ahead and do it? Well, upsettingly, I am not one of those people. I am, what one would call, ‘highly effective at procrastinating.’ That is; I tend to do anything other than what I really should be doing. For example: today, instead of completing urgent deadlines, I found myself day dreaming of beautiful and avant-garde outfits instead. Which, by the way, was a million times more fabulous than aimlessly searching for an overdue credit card bill that I know I’ve lost.

            Any who, in an attempt to delay achieving anything of substantial importance (I’m confident that debt collectors will be the new must-have accessory), I preceded to turn my absentmindedness into a somewhat tangible reality. Hence, I began to Google search avant-garde outfits.

For those of you who aren’t familiar, (insert shocked expression and a slight-but-not-too-obvious pair of judging eyes) avant-garde is the term us fashionista’s use to describe clothing which is innovative or remarkably unusual. Think futuristic, think ‘out there’; think wearing a giant life-sized jumping castle as a hat. Just think Lady Gaga okay… Strange yet chic.

As a consequence of my Google research, it has come to my attention that these peculiar and utterly amazing garments sincerely take my breath away. I was, quite literally, staring at my laptop like a bright-eyed, open-mouthed fool. These fabulous frocks left me- someone who has an unfortunate predisposition to rant and talk futile banter- speechless. As in: unable to perform coherent English.

            Alas, I have dedicated the majority of this blog post to pictures. Although my writing ego is sitting in a corner of my brain weeping her eyes out, I feel that no amount of wit or brilliant use of wordplay could do these dresses, or their artist, justice.

So sit back (recline if you must) and get ready to witness fanatic fashion at its finest. 

 the cat-walk-model becomes a butterfly

a garment or a garden? 

Alexander McQueen was the king of Avant-Garde

           

and the queen herself, Gaga.

 has anyone seen my briefcase?

 Victor and Rolf's Surrealistic Gowns: beyond brilliant

 yes, the dress is also an inflatable boat. 

These designers think of everything, don't they?

 giving new meaning to the term 'scarf'

 why run off and join the circus, 

when you can simply wear one?

 I like my tea black. And as a bodice, thanks.

feathered fantasy

 what are you reading, ahem,

wearing?

 oh deer

balloon-ing around

the wedding dress AND the wedding cake. 

Lukka Sigurdardottir; phenomenal 

...Breathtaking, huh? Now you can see why I was exceptionally distracted! Fashion is fantasy. And avant-garde garments are blending this fantasy with our reality. Perhaps we don't witness women dressed head-to-toe in sirloin steak on our streets (thank bloody god), but as a result of eccentric and unconventional innovators; we can. And that is the true beauty of fashion. There is no such thing as impossible. Or impractical. Or absurd. 

And, despite the fact that I will undeniably get a late fee on my next credit card bill, I will revel in this enchanting fact. 

xxxxxxx

To judge or not to judge… please is that even a serious question?

Aside from mingling with my besties and drinking lavish amounts of wine, the main reason I go out to pubs and clubs is to judge. Yes, I said it- there is nothing I love more than to look a bitch up and down and critique her atrocious appearance. It is true; I get my kicks off seeing faux snakeskin boots and neon barely-covering-the-bits dresses. It never fails to entertain me how women can leave their houses in their ghastly “I think I am killing it” outfits. Every time I cross my fingers and pray that they are going to a tragic-themed event or are, please god, legitimately blind.

Living in a small town where fashion is clearly not a priority, I am always guaranteed a good laugh or worse, an eyesore that is bound to give a lady nightmares for months. Seriously, Saw has nothing on the scary atrocities I have witnessed. Give me a gory blood-soaked victim any day of the week. Well maybe not literally, but you get my drift. (FYI- crimson red is a significantly preferable hue to all you florescent-indulging divas).

Now before you dismiss me as malicious little twat, it is paramount that I paint you a horrific and truthful picture. Just last night, whilst embarking on a supposedly fabulous night, my retinas were gravely scarred as I witnessed a lass dressed in a teensy-weensy white mini teamed with a, wait for it, cropped navy singlet embellished with a glitter neckline. Although I could already pick apart the atrocities of these scandalous garments, it gets gravely worse. For one, this imbecile (look I don’t know her name- clearly she wasn’t someone I wanted to befriend) unfortunately had the figure of Britney Spears in her slightly less-than-stellar phase. And then some. So not only did I have to deal with a severely shocking outfit, I also had to view it on a body that, excuse me for sounding obnoxious, should be covered up. Not only this, (I am indeed going to town on this poor girl) she was unable to walk in her cheap, Kmart-inspired heels.

            LADIES, NOTHING IS MORE TRAGIC THAN NOT BEING ABLE TO WALK IN YOUR HEELS!!

I get it; at some point in our lives we have all worn an outfit that we are ashamed of, (I look back at the 90s and cringe) but nothing excuses a woman from not being able to walk in her shoes. It is a fashion felony that is completely unacceptable. From scuffing the floor to bent ‘I’m walking like a pray-mantis’ knees, girls all over the world are destroying the powerful, feminine image of the infamous high heel. It is pretty simple really; heel-toe, heel-toe. Not toe-heel, not I’m-walking-like-an-astronaut and definitely no wobbly knees.

As one of my girlfriends put it, 'every high heel has been created from an artist who has thought deeply about every element of that shoe- girls need to respect that artist'. Amen sister. We wouldn’t carelessly carry The Mona Lisa* tucked thoughtlessly under our arm, so why on earth would it be okay to abuse our heel art? Despicable demeanor aside, it is simply ill mannered!

*For all you art and historian maniacs; The Mona Lisa is equivalent to our Monolo Blahnik’s.

Moreover, the recent Spring Racing Season has further supported my utter repugnance on this matter. I am dying merely writing the words ‘heels in hands’ - and not the Rachel Zoe ‘’I DIE”- but rather I am going to have a heart attack due to such distress that I may, quite literally, die. So before the nausea sets in, I am summing up this contemptible carnival in one sentence- the horses wore their shoes better than the majority of the frocked up fuckwits.

In conclusion, look in a mirror before you venture out in public AND if you cannot wear your heels like a respectable woman, I will shoot you. Well, I would if I wasn’t too delicate and pretty for jail. Hence, I will only offer you this piece of advice…

Get a cute pair of flats instead (clearly not from Kmart) and do us all a goddamn favour!

Rant over.