Ok, I know she's the editor of Nipon Vogue, style icon, and personage. She looks old enough to have been around the block frontwards and backwards more than just twice. She ranks up there in the upper regions of fabulousness with the likes of Rachel Zoe, Carine Roitfeld, Anna Wintour and Beyonce and other pretenders to the throne. I know she is unhealthily absorbed by fashion and spends the better part of her life planning, dressing and changing her "looks" on an hourly basis. This creature lives for fashion in the time honored tradition of a Daphne Guinness, Isabella Blow and Anna Piaggi, among others who are more or less dead or dying. She's a moth who's hovered around the flame for years but only recently has taken to dive bombing kamikaze style directly to into its glowing center. What I love most about these types are their innate absence of beauty, their sterile, rote approach to style (looks that are straight off the runway or total hashes of said looks) and the insider Sheepanistas who slurp up the slime trail that follows their every move. The narcissism necessary to put all of ones efforts into ones appearance in order to command respect, attention and a paycheck is still a paradox. So many of these pictures are testament of a certain lack of joy. It all looks more burdensome, embarrassing and tedious. The images with Carine Roifeld are particularly jaded and lifeless. These girls have taken the Twilight Saga to heart.
Anna seems to care more about the care, maintenance and proper packing regimen for trips to fashion weeks than to the quality of life of those around her. Living ones life for the sake of a Sartorialist photo-op is a life unexamined.
As she has been ever more steadily a moving object on the radar of fashion, I've taken increasingly more notice. Her appearance at the W magazine offices meeting with old friend Stefano Tonchi with consequent rumors of her taking a job there away from some poor quivering masthead member was yet another day on the job. Show up in an ill advised Chanel suit, way too short with big glasses and huge equine jaw ready to pose for the camera is certainly all it takes to get tongues wagging and job security fears spiking. She created her own Style Quake in Milan in a see-through lace jumpsuit, all toothsome with ginormous sunglasses. What is it? Who is she?
Now she's gotten it into her head to put out a perfume in a bottle in the shape of a spiked high heel shoe. Yikes. This brain fart all came about due to her having been told she's an international style icon, a leader of the people, a personage of grave consequence. I think its called "Blight" or "Trite"or actually,"Beyond". Whatever it is, I'm saving my pennies for some Fantastic. At least it's useful around the house in a multitude of ways. Why put hard earned unemployment checks into the hands of someone who clearly has too much to know what to do with? Isn't there a conflict of interest if you're putting out a perfume and are an editor of a Conde Nast imprint? Is everyone and her cleaning lady gunning for Anna Wintour's job? When these characters surface I'm reminded why I write this blog. This Empress is stark naked!
photos courtesy of Hype magazine.
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