Posts Tagged ‘fashion’

One would think that living in this time and place, with easy access to more stories and photos and video and recordings of everything you can think of than at any other point in history, you'd be able to really know what's going on.

Good luck with that.

I hate to be the one to break it to you, but very little you see is really there. For example, people on magazine covers aren't real. Sorry. Those are reasonably attractive people who have been Photoshopped for days until every less-than-perfect pixel of the original image has been improved until the picture actually begins to glow, float over the art director's computer, and heal the sick.

Check out this demo from Forsman & Bodenfors, a Swedish graphics company, which demonstrates how magazine covers are reworked with baseball bats to the point where if you squint and hold the magazine at a certain angle you might be able to see the original girl. But probably not.

Even worse are the cover pictures that are composites of different pictures, such as when Redbook ran a photo of Julia Roberts that was actually her head from the People's Choice Awards on top of her body from the Notting Hill premiere four years previous, or the famous Kate Winslet photo from Harper's Bazaar where her head was digitally placed on the body of Queen Latifah. Fortunately no one noticed, but still.

How about pictures of things that never actually happened? December's Vanity Fair featured a group photo of veteran war correspondents on a teeming Ho Chi Minh City street which was, in fact, not nearly as teeming as all that. Peter Arnett was unable to make it so they digitally added him afterward, leading readers to wonder if Mr. Arnett has ever actually gone anywhere or if he just poses nicely.

Then there's the written reality. Recently politicians' aides were found to be "fixing" Wikipedia entries about their employers, white-washing uncomfortable facts and adding mentions of fictitious deeds and, in some cases, superpowers. Once discovered this was widely reported, but those reports have since been changed so no worries.

We already know what can be done with video. When movies like "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" and "Sin City" can be shot entirely on green screen and filled in afterward, or fantastic effects like giant gorillas or rampaging armies can be created with a click of the mouse — OK, a few hundred thousands clicks of the mouse, but you see where I'm going with this — how can you trust anything you watch anymore?

Answer: You can't. Enjoy it. Relish the uncertainty, and question everything. Hey, try some yourself! Michela Ledwidge shot a ten-minute science fiction film called "Sanctuary," and good for her. But she's also placing all the raw materials at modfilms.com and encouraging people to make their own cut. Hours of production footage, an hour and half of sound effects and dialogue, and tons of artwork, storyboards, and photos. See what you can come up with.

In fact, I think all footage should be editable. What if I don't like the news I'm watching? What if I think the Seattle Seahawks should have won the Super Bowl? What if that dress is all wrong for that news anchor's coloring? What if I think she'd look better in a fez and flip-flops? For that matter, what if I think the Seahawks would look better in fezzes and flip-flops?

I want the power. Let me rewrite novels and plays and movies to my own liking. Let me decide when the stunt car should explode or the heroine should make her stand (or vice versa). Let me provide the commentary after the news, and do the standup on SNL. How much worse could I be?

In fact, I want to edit people. Right there, on the street. I want to walk over to some guy, click on him, and give him a better childhood and a nicer haircut. That lady should be taller, that kid should be shorter, that group over there would look cool in Viking gear. I want cheat codes for humans and real life walkthroughs! And then there's the nude patch. . .

And when I tire of screwing around with the fate of others, I want to edit me. Take out the parts I don't like, spruce up the parts I do, maybe experiment a little. I could be a 6'4" blond Adonis or an animated mongoose or a bikini babe or something, and then I could achieve my ultimate goal.

I could be on the cover of a magazine.

Have you read Carson Kressley's book "Off the Cuff," where the flamboyant one-fifth of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" personally tells you in his trademark style all you need to know about fashion, style, and couture?

I did. It didn't help, even with pictures.

Not that I didn't pay attention, mind you. I'm a big fan of the show. And his book is just as over the top as he is, with tips and tricks, simple, useful advice, and constant use of the declaration "people." He provides fast and funny advice with lots of examples for advanced fashion artiste and couture-blind beginner alike. It's not rocket science, people!

But, despite his best efforts, fashion simply has no effect on me. It's like putting cross-trainers on a fish. You wouldn't say, "Hey, that fish is wild! I'll bet he's fun and cool and hip, and has that back-court mobility he needs!"

No, you'd say something like, "Get those things off that poor fish, quickly! He'll die!"

Which is exactly the response I get when I attempt to dress up, even to the point where well meaning people try to keep me moist while they push me back into the ocean.

My clothing has exactly two functions: to keep most of me covered for the public good and to give me somewhere to put stuff. Warmth isn't much of an issue in Florida. One merely adds more layers of clothes until the optimum temperature is achieved or until you can't reach your buttons anymore. The only other consideration is sex appeal, and we'll wait a moment until everyone's stomach settles again.

Instead I stick with my own personal style, which is that of a slightly impoverished college student with a severe neurological disorder. There's no real decision-making necessary. Everything I own matches — for a given value of "match" — so I can grab my clothes with my eyes closed and still achieve the same result. Many would suspect that's exactly how I do it, in fact.

Here, then, is the Bridges Guide to Low Fashion.

First: jeans. Carson advises paying a bit extra for good quality jeans that will last. You'll definitely need them; jeans are the quintessential American pants, good for everything from septic tank work to fancy dinners, often in the same evening. However, I know that as the seasons pass my waist size will change by several inches in either direction, so buying jeans that last longer than two or three months is just throwing money away.

Shirts should not advertise anything unless I personally am getting paid for it. Otherwise, I prefer shirts that go well with jeans, which is any shirt that doesn't actually require batteries.

I have two belts: one brown, one black. The brown one is for everyday wear and for sliding down high-tension power cables during emergency spy situations. The black one is for special occasions, like weddings, funerals, and presidential inaugurations, when I wear my dress jeans.

No UGG boots, no Hugo Boss calf leather lace-ups, no athletic shoes that require a balloon mortgage and three forms of ID. I walk into Wal-Mart, find the $15 specials, try one on, and I'm out of there in five minutes. Maybe a little more if I had to lace the shoe first. That same pair will serve me well as work shoes, jogging shoes, shower shoes, cross-trainers, bedroom slippers, pest control, and emergency hammer.

Accessories include vintage underwear, about a hundred socks of not-quite-matching styles and colors, jogging pants I wear to pretend that wandering around the house holding a Mountain Dew is really "working out," and a cowboy outfit that I save for those special nights. That's standard, I'm sure Carson has one too.

I know I won't be winning any beauty contests, but I don't have to. I've got a job that keeps me out of the public eye and I married my wife before she knew any better. And instead of wasting all those precious hours with shopping and obsessive clothing buying, I've regained that valuable time and used it wisely and well by… well, mostly by wandering around the house holding a Mountain Dew.

But at least everything matches.