It’s been days, now, weeks even, and I can’t get it out of my head. This Tom Ford picture, and the show itself keeps haunting me. And what better time to be haunted by something than now, coming up to the thinning of the veil between the worlds? I figure this is my best chance of any to make a wish.
Please, Tom Ford, why must we wait? I know these clothes are made for SS15, and it’s customary to start sharpening the elbows so you can be first with the latest styles, like, months ahead of time. But we need this NOW!
This is my best chance of any to make a wish..
As everyone around me is ruminating over their secret stash of witch’s hats and saucy devil’s outfits for Halloween, I’m just completely blank, pining for clothes that are still a twinkle on the runway. Dark, powerful, dominating all they survey, putting mere mortals on their knees and cracking lean, shine-clad limbs like a whip? That’s the new Tom Ford collection. Why bother with pantomime dominatrixes, (dominatrices?) badly carved pumpkins, misplaced magic symbols, and faux-forest-dwelling-wise-women? At this time of year, I mean NOW, why not bewitch a swain or two of your own? Or ten?
Why not bewitch a swain or two of your own? Or ten?
I know what you’re thinking, I’m just making a badly botched attempt to cover my tracks after my schoolgirl-like live-blogging hysteria during the Tom Ford show. Yes, it was a tad unseemly, I admit it. I went into orbit during that show. I lost control of the keyboard.
(Blame it on the live blogging, it’s the writing equivalent of rubbing your tummy and head simultaneously, in different directions, while singing the song of your people to the tune of the national anthem of the country due west of you, in Ancient Greek, while drunk in a getaway car. Or something like that.)
But just look at the model; the sheer Edie Sedgewick of her, all flashing dark eyes and lamé-clad lioness. Baby doll meets Cruelle de Vil. (Yes feminists, I am one of you, I can upbraid myself whilst writing. Put away your texting finger. We can write the essay on heteronormative dressing and notions of feminine power another day, deal?) Clearly my posting this is akin to your kitten guiltily bringing in a tasty morsel from the garden, and dropping it’s still breathingbody on your lap instead of hiding it.
Yup. Should be ashamed. But I’m not alone. The Independent’s Alexander Fury Tweeted:
So. Let’s, make a resolution, form a union or something (is there a Fashionista Union? If not, why not?) Let’s demand that these delicious Tom Ford morsels be made available so that we can wear them, like NOW.
Alternatively we’ll take action and collectively pull a sickie on October 31st (or indefinitely, really) and spend the day lounging in black silk bathrobes, reading Nostradamus and watching reruns of Charmed. That should bring industry to a halt. They’ll soon be in the stores, right?
Go to the Dark Side.
Please, Tom Ford?
Photograph from Tom Ford Show, LFWSS15: Daniel Sim, Courtesy of British Fashion Council.