When a new issue
of Vogue is released I feel like a kid on Christmas day- my palms get sweaty, I
hyperventilate and jump up and down in the magazine isle, clutching my prized
present in my arms like a smiling, animated fool.
Except, unlike
Christmas day, when “Santa” horrifyingly gets me the cheaper and considerably
unimpressive version of Baby Born; Vogue
never disappoints.
And this month’s
February issue is no different. In truth, opening its extraordinary pages was
like walking into a candy store on Christmas day, taking a ride on Rudolf’s
magical back and getting EXACTLY what I begged Santa for. Thanks to Vogue’s feature on Australia’s fresh
and oh so fabulous model-of-the-moment, Ruby Jean Wilson; an eight-page
extravaganza has been dedicated to a fashion flashback of the 1960s. In layman’s
terms- all of my Christmas’ have come at once and the bitch has died and gone
to fashion heaven.
The Cover: Vogue Australia, February 2013
For all who know
me, they would tell you that I secretly curse my parents for bringing me to
life in the 1990’s, when I was CLEARLY meant to bloom listening to Janis
Joplin, befriending Twiggy and fluttering my eyelash extensions and white hair
at The Beatles’ boys. Not to mention that my ULTIMATE girl crush and lifetime
idle, Edie Sedgwick was discovered in The Sixties. Yes, you can understand now,
why I was so bloody excited about this Vogue issue!
Consequently, I
have used this article as an excuse to loyally devote my undying love of The
Sixties and, most importantly, to the fashion flamboyancy of this time,
publicized by my quintessential fashion darling: Edie Sedgwick.
Edie Sedgwick: the fashion icon of the 60s
My quintessential fashion darling:
Edie Sedgwick
If The Sixties
is the era that I hold dearest to my heart, it makes perfect sense that Edie
Sedgwick became my muse. Nothing screams ‘superstar’ like an anorexic,
drug-taking model who made the world fall in love with her. Pop art legend, Andy
Warhol, knew an “It girl” when he saw one, and when Edith Sedgwick stumbled
upon his birthday party in 1965, he inevitably fell in love with her too.
Sedgwick and pop art legend, Andy Warhol
With her
signature chandelier earrings and bleached-blonde-bob, its no wonder Edith
Minturn Sedgwick became a statue of style in the sixties. Her nonchalant
glamour radiated elegance in a way the fashion world had never seen before. Sedgwick,
with her waist like figure, captured the eccentricity the 60s. She was the star who made caterpillar
eyebrows breathtakingly brilliant and fur phenomenal.
Big lashes, blonde bob, less-than subtle brows
Edie threw out every
fashion rulebook and carved her initials in a more fabulous, rebel-bound one.
Whilst she was on this Edie-only fashion frenzy, she also threw out her pants- proving that less is always more, wearing boy sized shirts over her legendary
black tights. In hindsight, if we all possessed thighs like Edie, fashion
designers would never have invented trousers!
"It was Edie's idea to wear a leotard instead of pants. Nothing
could be simpler; she hated dealing with buttons."
- Steven Watson, Factory Made: Warhol and the Sixties
There was
nothing platonic about The Sixties:
if it wasn’t oozing sex it simply wasn’t
chic.
“Edith Sedgwick,
twenty-two, white-haired with anthracite-black eyes
arabesquing on her leather
rhino to a record of the Kinks.” - US Vogue caption
Sedgwick paved
the path in which icons of the fashion world began to follow. It was only a
year later that the infamous Twiggy evolved on the London scene. Alike Sedgwick,
Twiggy also flaunted an androgynous boy hairdo and knew the power of luscious
lashes. As February’s issue of Vogue describes, she “hit London, turning up
everywhere with her micro-minis and doll face making sensible ladies feel
obsolete”. These sisters of the sixties certainly were savvy!
Twiggy with characteristics similar to Sedgwick:
the short cropped hair, the girlish face
Twiggy and Sedgwick shared a love
for micro-minis
Twiggy with her caterpillar brows
and luscious lashes
Sedgwick’s sense
of style is also being recreated by today’s astute fashion designers and
fresh-faced models. Being the highlight of Vogue’s 60s feature, is the gorgeous
Ruby Jean Wilson and her exceptional resemblance to the sixties superstar. She
has strutted her stupendous stuff for Marc Jacobs, her platinum hair bedazzling
modern 60s enthusiasts.
Ruby Jean Wilson walking for Marc Jacobs
“Her
presence was like a lightening bolt; a wake-up call that made the romanticism
of the past couple of seasons seem dreary.”- Vogue
Ruby Jean Wilson at Louis Vuitton
Ruby Jean Wilson photographed by Derek Henderson
in February's Vogue issue
Comparison: Sedgwick at Warhol's, The Factory
and Wilson backstage at Marc Jacobs
Her eye for style aside, what I most marvel
about Sedgwick was her ability to make her flaws seem, well, flawless. A young
star with an obvious eating and drug disorder, she was nonetheless able to
convince those around her that she was worthy of their affection and love. For
me, this is of paramount importance; if Edie, with all of her transparent
imperfections could still be greatly adored, then it gives us all a chance of
being loved, doesn’t it? Excuse me for sounding a tad melodramatic- but get the tissues ready.
It is for this reason, (as well as all the
ostentatious flair) that I am obsessed with The Sixties: it gives us hope. It
gives us hope that we can boldly show our sense of unconventional style with
confidence; it gives us hope that we can rock theatrical jet-black brows with
white hair; but more than anything, it gives us hope that we can be adored.
This is what
Edie taught me. This is what a young woman of The Sixties, whom I have never-
and will never- know, illuminated; being adored is the honest kind of love
there is. It is selfless and it is pure- adoration means being loved without
anyone expecting your love in return. Edie Sedgwick was greatly adored and
shown unrequited love by many- but the most fascinating part was: she loved everyone
right back.
And
so I treasure Sedgwick with every inch of my heart; thus when Vogue releases an
issue dedicated to this seasons take on the sixties and speaks well of my
darling idol, I jump up and down in the magazine isle; because all of my Christmas’
have indeed come at once. Except this time “Santa” was “Vogue” and she gave me
everything I wanted.
xxxxx