Beach Goth

Fashion Case Study: Morse

Morse, for those who don’t know, was/is an 80s/90s detective drama TV series set in Oxford. Based on the Colin Dexter novels, it features a snowy-haired detective who digs crypic crosswords, beer, luxury vehicles and seducing hot middle aged babes. Oh and justice. He’s big on that. If that description didn’t win you over I think maybe you should do the replicant test because it's hectic.

I personally find it incredibly soothing to watch – something about its unflinching internal logic and the predictability of genre TV, plus the Oxford obsession I have which is still in full swing – but lately I have also been noticing that there is some pretty great fashions involved too. The golden era of normcore! Not only are the tourists and characters peak upmarket 80s perfection, the students provide head to toes that get me taking notes. A few case studies, for your consideration.

Morse does gothrave:

This episode is a golden triumph on multiple levels, (special mention to Sergeant Lewis who would've thrown some sick shapes, glow sticks and furry pants etc, if he wasn't on duty). But I was most interested in a particular gothrave look which is ON POINT, and comes direct from a goth 90s raver etsy seller. The screen grabs don't do it justice, but imagine: velvet choker, chain backpack, brown lipstick, body con mini skirt and witch boots. Plus lob. Would wear.

Stuff: Vintage Chanel backpack, Etsy
Velvet choker, also Etsy
Dress, Matches
Blazer, Etsy 
Boots, Etsy


Morse does normcore:

We need to talk about everything here. The hot pink, oversized tshirt, the patchwork overalls (in a star pattern no less), a loose 80s french braid with a friggen velvet scrunchie. Add white sneakers. They also ALL rides bikes. This chick could work at Vice. From this episode.

Overalls, Etsy
Shoes & sunnies, ASOS

LSDior, or, let's all take acid in the forest

Few daydreams compel like the ideal, the idyll, the idol of Arcadia. Rural retreat, running through fields, still moments of congress with nature- it started with Virgil around 39BC, and there’s been no let up since. This utopia, this bucolic best, this neverland of nature spirits, is as compelling as it is fictional – but as a wiser person than me once said, never let the truth stand in the way of a good dress.

Hello, Dior.

It may have been the hypnotic, pointillist-painted prismatics of the Parisian setting at the Musée Rodin, but the mood was early set with light magic.

Image: Dior

What could have been twee, seriously wasn’t – fields of flowers were taken into space via hallucinatory overtones; and given a deep, earthy sexuality thanks to slits, splits and sheers. (See: the tunic split that sent Tilda Lindstam down the runway almost naked); and that deep dark deep V in inky midnight blue velvet. And we haven’t even talked about the sleeves.

Image: Susie Bubble

Raf refs were definitely there, echoes to his previous work for Jil Sander with those just-so clutched coats, but what struck me most was the new material: rustic nymphets on acid and the never-say-never mix of medieval miss and seventies starlet. The word 'contrast' finds its way into every fashion review, but here it seems just. The medieval references were armed as much as adorned: layered chain mail bodices compelled and repelled, light and heavy, and gave an otherwise princessy mood a backstage, back off feel. Walking to Pink Floyd, the 70s groupie was definitely invited to the party, but the overall mood was an altered state in which women feel simultaneously sexy, pure, earthy, spiritual, inviting and repelling, both pretty and avant garde. And aren’t we all?

The clothes looked best in movement: in the live stream, stuttering and starting over inconstant internet, glimpsing wide leg pants in mid-walk; diaphanous dresses and curled-up hems in mid-curl, witnessing the floor length velvet maxi coat in fluid, deep motion…

Runway images: Dior & Style.com

The Case for Flares

Don't you hate your shoes? And tight gripping shit on your ankles? And clean hems? If you answered yes to any of these things, have I got some information for you. FASHION INFORMATION. They're called flares and your mum and dad probably wore them, and if you were a teenager in the 90s you probably did too. Erase those memories. (Unless your dad was George Harrison). And replace with these newer, better flared pant times to come.

Oracle foxiness.

All Emmanuelle, all the time

Refer to the above caption. I SAID ALL THE TIME

Shoe hatred: the solution.

...unless you kinda like your shoes, then pull this manoeuvre. CASUAL.

These aren't so much flares as wide leg pants but who are you, fashion Stalin? Cool off.

I said COOL OFF.

Colour is a thing they make clothes in now, apparently.

Is this your dad? Or mum? You get a free pass. Good day sir.

(Side note: street style poses are incredibly boring, oui? Phone clutched to face, striding off somewhere important. Tres puke. But let's think of the greater good and try to ignore said posery.)

The Row Fall 2015. Or, why are fashion people obsessed with XXXL knits?

Unsolved mystery: just what is it about an oversized, chunky knit sweater that has fashion people obsessed? It is sixty-million degrees where I am right now – on a beach in Australia – yet the close up of those sweaters from The Row’s Fall 2015 presentation has me, like fashion people everywhere, wanting one on my body right now.

Let’s break this down:
Oversized, chunky, turtleneck (good)
Super soft cashmere (getting better)
Sleeves so long your hands both are invisible and obsolete (even better)
So long it’s almost – but not quite – a dress (bingo!).
People, we have ourselves one of the most instagrammed looks in the collection.

The magic powers of superfine purism that attract the fashion fanatic have always been the bread and butter of the Olsens at The Row – succinct but confident cuts, premium fabrication, refined palette – but for Fall ’15 there’s a shift towards an even paler shade of white. Cuts are refined to the point of austerity, the businesslike b+w is infused with flashes of oatmeal, butterscotch and seventies-era brown, fabrications are luxurious silk, coverted cashmere buttery leather. These are kinds of words that make for flutter-hearting fashion people.

The fugly summer slide reincarnates here as a simple Moroccan mule slipper (worn with sheer tights), spring’s 70s redux is done The Row way in early-autumn shades… tan and brown worn back with not-quite white… the leather, too, is distinctly 70s in chocolate, both crisp and warm at once with curved lapels and a belted robe cut. Felts are so boxy you could send packages in them; bags are oversized and hugged to the body; belts are double-wrapped obis. Of course there’s plenty of signature slouch by way of wide legs and cocoons, oh and geez – that blond-white silk maxi dress.

It’s no new news –off-the grid minimalism is hardly new, especially at the Row – but the mysteries of puritanism beguile here in a subtle shift of energy. The shift is in the detail, the suede slip-ons and robes that just could, feasibly, be worn at a day spa – the most luxuriant day spa imaginable which you probably can’t afford, naturally – and the quiet sensuality of slip-me-off silks.

Slanting light, modernist interiors, pant suits… It could be a more Manhattan mind state at work– there’s something suggestive the kind of NYC woman who shimmers out of cars hugging a leather bag and an iPhone 6+, bedroom and boardroom at once.

There’s a compelling contradiction at play: hot/cold, puritanical cuts and sensuality in the detail. It’s a compelling contradiction, seductively quiet rather than overt. Ingénue she is not: a cool New Yorker, all polish, confidence and refinement – long live minimalism – yeah, she’s a purist, but with sensual details and depth. The effect is both gamine and gutsy: the soft power of the boss lady.

Check out the whole show at Style.com. Photos from same source.

Movie Style: The Witches of Eastwick (1987)

Turns out I hadn't read every single last one of the Penguin Classics from the much-mined bookstore at Sydney airport. The Witches of Eastwick had somehow been missed - no idea why. Feminist, magical, and with the kind of prose that reminds you why you love writing, Updike totally killed it with this one, and I loved every second. So, naturally, the movie. It was very unlike the book, and sort of crap, but can we just take a moment to reflect up the excellence of the circa '87 fashions? Yes? Yes. Very well then:

Excellent font. Also foliage. #fontandfoliage

Exhibit A: cross-back blue and white stripe midi skirt pinafore. Genius.

Seersucker, pastels and clear '80s geek glasses? Pfieffer you pferfect specimen.

Uptight, pre-demon Sarandon looks pretty god damn excellent. Those school-unfiform greys and crisp white layers could be very Lover-esque inspo, no?

Tied crop eighties excellence, with navy midi-culottes, kick-ass bike and gypsy jewels? Add Cher's general charisma and you've got a pretty covetable combo.

That lightly-striped summer dress! (It has a button-through back just FYI). That tres-Birkin basket weave bag. That jawbone!

Ok so post-demon, let-loose Sarandon kicks major ass too. I tip my hat to that hair, and those mirror shades, lady.

Got game.

Butterfly clips on a grown woman. Cher only situation.

Overalls because all the YES

Does Sarandon's outfit deserve a third screen cap? You bet your sage smudge stick she does.

Speaking of her outfits all get pretty excellent from here on in....

Though the less said about this the better.

TUTU ALERT

From here on in it suddenly gets really puffy for some reason. I respect that this is 1987 after all. Those oversize pearls though.

I love every single thing about Pfieffer's print co-ord with potpie hat look here. Ideal.

Sarandon goes gym witch/ Cher does high waist pants/ Pfieffer dressed as Jerry Seinfeld.

Silky robes and sorcery!