First it was Stella McCartney and H&M. Then Target followed suit, expanding its ever-present hegemony by pulling designers Behnaz Sarafpour and Proenza Schouler into the fold. Then someone got the bright idea to do away with the real designers and instead have some of today’s hottest celebrities “design” collections. Thus was spawned Madonna's exercise in self-worship (then again, what does she ever do that isn't an exercise in self worship) her "collection" for H&M. Nevermind the fact that it was entirely uninspired, entirely too black, and mostly ill-fitting... people lapped it up with a frenzied excitement the likes of which can only be compared to the Japanese obsession with American Pop Culture refuse. Because the only thing better than dressing in designer duds is dressing EXACTLY like your favorite celebrity (I'm thinking of all the Boho, dumpster-chic offenders who obviously have feelings for Nicole Ritchie and the Olsen Twins that have gotten way out of control). Even designers create pieces that are not only reminiscent of celebrity fashion, but complete replicas.
Like it or not, celebrities appear to be dictating what's in and what's out in the fashion world, and not the other way around. To some extent of course, it's always been that way. Designer muses have ranged from royalty to rock stars, and this, of course, is a completely legitimate source of inspiration.
However, there is a difference between inspiration and simply taking the contents of the celebrity's closet, mass-producing the items in it using cheaper materials and labor, and regurgitating it for the world to wear. The irony, of course, is that people love it. Individuality is not prized nearly so much as an ability to mirror the leggings/baggy tunic combo that Lindsay Lohan wore yesterday while shopping for groceries at Trader Joe's in Santa Monica. And I, of course, being a fashion snob (I'll admit it!) consider myself above this petty copycat behavior for people devoid of any unique fashion sense.
But then one celebrity-clothing chain collaboration stole my heart and despite my better judgment, I found myself counting the days until her collection would be available to the public. I'm speaking of course, of Kate Moss' collection for European powerhouse Topshop.
I'm not saying her collection is any more creative or innovative than Madonna's. Nay, it relies on the same technique of creating cheaply made counterfeits of some familiar items in Kate's closet and disseminating them to the masses. So, what's the difference? Well, for me it all comes down to the fact that I secretly covet Kate Moss' wardrobe. Seriously covet. Maybe it's partly because I imagine that Kate has something akin to my body type (petite, flat-chested, slightly bowlegged) and so anything that looks good on her must, by extension, look good on me. But in reality the “petite” Kate is 5'6” and only looks small because she’s usually compared to six-foot Amazonian freaks of nature. And her ankles and legs are waaay skinnier than mine. So, I guess it comes down to the simple fact that I like the way she dresses. But it’s not only that. I like the way she wears her clothes. There is something so anti-fashion about her fashion that makes it delightfully subversive in a not-at-all threatening way. It's something about how her hair always looks like she just had a raucous bout of sex with her bloat-faced, train wreck of a boyfriend in the woods somewhere...and came out with her hair looking perfectly imperfect. Ahh, Kate.
So yes, I am excited about the impending arrival of Kate's "designs". And no, wearing them won't make me look like Kate, but at least, in my mind's eye, I might have the illusion of slightly longer, less stubby legs.
Above are a couple of my favorite designs that I've seen so far, complete with their real-life inspiration. The denim short shorts are a bit much, but the floral minidress and too-cool-for-school grey trousers worn with matching blazer manage to look highly reminiscent of Kate without crossing over into blatant doppelganger territory. You could totally make them your own.
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