"Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood..."

I would say that I am at a loss for words, but obviously I am not, otherwise I would not be writing this. I just saw my first professional fashion show in its entirety (albeit on my computer). Alexander McQueen S/S 10. OMG. See for yourself...http://bit.ly/19kiwE. Don't worry, I'll give you a second...

You back? Have the goosebumps faded back into your flesh? Did you pick your jaw up off the floor? Do you need to go change your undergarments? All perfectly reasonable reactions to the SPECTACLE that was that show. The shiny floor, the two robotic cameras running parallel down the runway, the erotic backdrop. And the styling! The Donnie Darko hair (well technically, it's Frank's ears), the prosthetics placed around the eyes, and those pale, shimmery alien faces. And the stars of the show: the shoes and clothes. OMG! The shoes (especially those worn at the onset of the show) were something out of a sado-masochist shoe fetishist's dream. What that man did with cut and patterns and colors was beyond amazing. It was OOC ("out of control"). While I totally appreciate the vision, talent, and imagination that went into the creation of all of the pieces, it really got good for me at around the 9:30 mark. You know, when the shoes changed to the ridunkulous shiny, lacquered, platform pumps? And the clothes were feminine and ruffly and they moved so good it made me want to melt.

It was so uber fantastic. It gave me chills. It was breath taking. But let's be real. The majority of those pieces are just not practical for women like me. And that's okay, because a lot of fashion is truly art; and just as every one can not have a Picasso or Monet hanging on their wall, every piece of haute couture or avant garde fashion is not meant to be physically accessible en masse. And that is okay. Even though I may never fiscally be able to even purchase an outfit straight of a Paris runway (nor am I sure if the beauty of something that high end would even translate in my world), I did acquire something very valuable just from viewing that show.

I can be fearless and bold when making everyday choices, particularly stylistically. I have always prided myself on being an individual. I embrace my uniqueness. When people say I'm weird, I say "thank you." That being said, there is a difference in being comfortable with yourself and taking that extra step to actually stand out. Mr. McQueen has encouraged me to shout without saying a word. Though I know he will never read these words, I want to take this opportunity to say to him, "Thank you, sir."

That being said, I feel the need to segue to a different, yet peculiarly related topic. As I said, I am an unique individual. And I seriously and deeply respect other people that are different from myself. Even when I don't understand where a person is coming from (and though this truly applies to all aspects of my life, for the purpose of this post, the focus is on style), and don't necessarily appreciate the aesthetics of or reasoning behind certain choices, as long as it is genuine and comes from a place of personal insight and respect, I can dig it. To each his own. But really-TO EACH, HIS OWN.

In other words, let me be me, and you BE YOU. While "imitation is the most sincere form of flattery," at what point does imitation become infringement upon someone else's intellectual property? We all derive inspiration from numerous sources, but when we derive inspiration from individuals, at what point does imitation turn into disrespect?

It's been a long day, filled with many lovely things and a little bit of ugliness. But I take solace in the fact that tomorrow is another day. What is your take on inspiration/imitation? Where do you draw the line between being flattered and being offended when someone is quite obviously mimic-ing you? My inquiring mind wants to know. Post a comment and we'll further this tantalizing stream of consciousness. 'Til next time...


Fashion Forever...


Quinn



BTW: Believe it or not, I actually put a lot of thought in to the titles of my blog posts. This one is a quote from the movie Donnie Darko. And in case you've never seen it, and thus do not get the reference between it and the Alexander McQueen show... here are some pictures of Frank (courtesy of www.depooter.org and www.listal.com)