Although I try to stay, in general, neutral when it comes to writing posts about fashion, tendencies and styling maneuvers, this doesn’t stop me from outlining, in my inner forum, the list of those I find profoundly irritating. Now and then, I verbalize them in a trenchant manner and treat them firmly. Attention: a very, very subjective article is coming up.
1st place: White shoes
Although I am and always will be a fan of white sneakers – from my point of view they match everything and anyone -, I didn’t manage to befriend, in any way, any other type of white shoes. The more I saw them in an over-dosed and visual over-stimulation manner on Instagram, in the feet of whomever, the more my interest for them dropped. I reached the point where I feel an impossibility to describe these shoes with any positive features – their apparent (and temporary) immaculate state makes me picture them painted with correction white paste.
I feel obliged to bring forward a justification: if white sneakers represent a small percentual part of any attire and, from one point on, can reach a common ground with the attire, any other option – booties, boots, high heels, sock boots – represent for me a type of loud capital letters, hysterical exclamation points that attract too much attention on them. An accessory, even a “statement” one, should not become the central piece of an attire or outfit. These days, when I am asked on Instagram, “what do you say, should I buy a pair of white boots?”, my answer is a short one. No.
2nd place: Neon pink (and other neon colors)
Rose pink, candy pink, cherry pink, vintage pink, orchid pink, coral pink, blush pink, beige-pink, magenta… There are so many shades of pink, each of them charged with a set of significations and stylistic potential. The diluted and delicate are ideal when the stylistic intention is to generate a feminine, romantic note; they are great when paired with dark blue, caramel beige, and olive green. The others, with mid-range pigments, help when the conjugation is made in exotic and summery terms; they match with turquoise, solar yellow, warm red, cardinal violet, and emerald green.
With all my attempts, I remained air-tight closed and hostile to neon pink shades. Regardless if the attires are worn by other women or I try to introduce it within one of my attires, in a minimal manner, I simply can’t find any trace of charm in this chemical color. Even if some looks created around this color are actually successful, it doesn’t convince me. Even more, I am ready to bet that these look great due to their chromatic selection and not solely because of it.
3rd place: Red and black check patterns
Closer to a psychedelic checker board’s pattern than to the traditional Scottish print, these bicolor check patterns had the misfortune to cover the kilt of one of my former neighbors. The accountable kilt was the place where all her four cats used to lounge, languorously. As a result, I can’t associate, not even today, red and black check patterns with any trace of… style. To be honest, the more I think about them, the more I realize that the kilt covered with a thin layer of cat hair is not the only one responsible for my aversion. I don’t appreciate the lack of subtleness and refinement of this color association, I don’t like the brutal linearity of this pattern, I don’t like the fact that it is treated as the sole symbol of the punk movement, and I don’t like that some brands subliminally suggest it for an American rustic style… All in all, it is a print with a cheap effect, loud, and at the edge of the obsolete.
4th place: White seams on items made out of unfinished denim
I’ve lost the line of perfectly cut jeans, beautifully shaped shirts and jackets with the ideal length tried over time and abandoned in stores because of… seams with white strings. The contrast between unfinished denim, indigo blue, and these lines that suggest the Morse code horripilate me because I see it as a free, forced brain wave.
Why accentuate the simple assembly of a passe-partout item? Why would you like to transform a simple straight seam into a decorative element? I would understand this in the case of a majestic seam, which would follow a surprising cut… Just like in the case of white footwear, I expect the string used to keep together the pieces of clothes to blend with the background, with the fabric, instead of being an egocentric punctuation sign. It visually disturbs me; this is the truth…
5th place: Satin trousers
If the “urban pajama” trend found in me a favorable echo, this declension stunned me, not to say leery: the use on the street of a satin trouser, always with a loose line, made out of a thin and fluid material. Something that at home, chez nous, can be a delicate feast, on the street can attract curious eyes or even offensive stares. It’s true that it is the kind of piece that sensually caresses the shape of buttocks, but it also has the less unfortunate features of getting rumpled way too easy and get inserted into the most intimate parts of a woman’s body. No matter what arguments you will offer, I reserve the satin trouser for the boudoir only.
Without getting into further details, I complete the list of stylistic heresies with:
- Thick socks associated with loafers;
- Necklaces and belts with ostentatious logos;
- The grotesque oversized shoulders of masculinized spencer;
- Thin nude tights (especially slightly shimmery versions) and fine, ordinary black tights;
- …and a few more, but I’ll stop here. What would you write down on this list?