Sartorial Soulmate

Allow me a brief detour from the usual, dear readers, so that I might indulge in a shameless plug for my Sartorial Soulmate. What is a Sartorial Soulmate? Well, for me, it's the designer against who I judge all others; a man for whom classic American style is an adjective, not a noun; the person who embodies living life joyously and fashionably. Oh, and we share the same birthday. And both of us are hitting major birthday milestones this year.

I'm speaking, of course, about Ralph Lauren. Say what you will about the omnipresent polo pony embroidery (overkill, for sure), but this man knows how to dress, and knows how to dress others. I mean, look at him! Classicly cool in denim at the end of a S/S10 runway show that featured the sublime shimmery confections on either side (those are overall straps on the right one, natch) and a the evocation of 20's and 30's glamour with a strong nod to menswear-inspired tailoring.

Why else do I love Ralph so much? Let's go down the list:

• Range of sizes from 0P to 22W for the gals and Big & Tall for the guys
• Range of price points from JC Penney's "American Living" line to Rugby to RRL to the Black Label Collection
• Range of body types and colors in his advertisements and runway shows (I heart Chanel Iman, btw. She's shown twice below!)
• Knowing what REAL people want in their clothing: Argentine polo player Nacho Figueras is the latest in a long line of beautiful people to sport the iconic Pony Shirt

So yeah, I have a major fashion crush on Ralph and his empire, but who can blame me?

Let me be the first to say Happy Early 70th Birthday to Ralph Rueben Lifshitz (yes, that's his real name). You don't look a day over 60! Thanks for the memories and I hope you keep designing for another decade. I can only hope I'll look that good in 40 years...

...And then, one day, I didn't care so much

Once upon a time, dear readers, I wrote about fashion. And made a decent living off of it. And then, when all of that stopped, I missed it for a minute. And then I didn't.

Now mind you, I haven't given up on it entirely. Heck, I still work part time at a boutique, do the women's buying, and check Go Fug Yourself as much as the next fashionista. But I don't have that same obsessive interest there as I did even five years ago, before I worked in retail full time and well before I ever considered myself to be a "fashion writer."


Somewhere along the way I let my subscription to Vogue lapse and no longer paid as much attention the latest It Bag. In fact, I find myself feeling almost hostile in some ways to much fashion writing these days. Was I really that vapid and self absorbed? Are clothes that important? Do we put designers on too high of a pedestal?

I'm being hyperbolic for effect, of course, but there's no doubt that I've lost my appetite for much of what the world of luxury fashion offers the average consumer. And I've lost all interest for going to a mall. I'd like to think that my tastes are refining, that I'm looking for the next big (or medium-sized) thing, people with an eye toward sustainable design, non-stratospheric price points, and a true passion for what they do. You can keep your YSL Tribute pumps, your Birkin bags, and your skinny jeans (please!). I'll keep doing my own thing.

Big Girls Need Love, Too

...So said OutKast's Big Boi in 2007's "The Way You Move." And it's true, we do. Especially those of us who have a weak spot for high fashion. Only fashion doesn't love us back so much.

Try to find something amazing in a size 14. Try it! I dare you. It's virtually impossible. Although a handful of designers (Michael Kors, Ralph Lauren) design clothing in "Women's" sizes (as opposed to "Misses" - don't ask me what that's supposed to mean), finding amazingly well-designed, high-end fashion for a 6 foot tall woman of generous proportions is virtually impossible.

And yet I continue to shop. And - more importantly - I continue to lose weight. The latter is the key, you see. Because I'm not going to be changing the fashion industry any time soon, and I sure as heck ain't gonna miraculously discover some heretofore unknown haute couture plus-size fashion line.

So I keep walking and working out and crossing my fingers and, finally, order a size "L" from a designer label (in this case, Elizabeth and James) and it fits. Honest to goodness, there's no wrestling or mirror-tricks involved. It's an off-the-rack size 10 and I can slide it on with no problems.

Take that fashion industry. I'm back in business. You've been warned.