瘋狂時代，內(nèi)斂低調(diào)成為時尚

瘋狂時代，內(nèi)斂低調(diào)成為時尚

As the runway revolves, one front-row fashion fixture ponders how practical dressing has come to feel like the most modern of ideas, and why designers haven’t quite caught on.

隨著秀臺旋轉(zhuǎn)，一位前排的?？驮谒伎紴楹螌?shí)用的穿著方式成了最現(xiàn)代的理念，為何設(shè)計(jì)師們沒有完全把握住這個理念。

It is before dawn on a frozen Sunday in upstate New York, where I have come to pack up two bedrooms. A handyman is arriving to build a small closet in one, and then both rooms will receive a fresh coat of paint. I’m sticking with the same colors — light green, a ballroom blue — that I chose 15 years ago, when the house was built. This decision to leave well enough alone, instead of hustling over to the paint store and driving myself nuts with choices, not to mention wasting my energy, seems more than sensible: It sums up everything I feel about style and comfort. Or should I say the revenge of comfort over style.

在一個冰冷的周日的黎明前，我去紐約州北部打包兩間臥室的東西。一個雜務(wù)工要來給其中一間建一個小壁櫥，然后，兩間房將涂上新漆。我仍然選用淡綠色和舞廳藍(lán)色，跟15年前修建這所房子時用的顏色一模一樣。這個滿足現(xiàn)狀的決定似乎更理智，我不用匆忙趕到油漆店，被各種選擇弄得要發(fā)瘋，更別提還要浪費(fèi)我的精力：這概括了我對時尚和舒適的所有感覺。也許我該說這是舒適對時尚的報(bào)復(fù)。

Folded over the back of a chair in my room, under a mohair throw, is an old suede kilt I had meant to begin wearing again. For me, the kilt nourishes a sense of freedom from fashion. It’s a classic, it’s sentimental and it’s one of the few garments I own that has truly improved with age. I hope I am wearing it at 90, tramping along in boots and a dog-haired sweater, the picture of civilized indifference.

一條舊的起絨蘇格蘭短裙壓在我房間椅子后面的羊毛椅套底下，我打算再開始穿它。對我來說，這條短裙具有一種時尚自由感。它很經(jīng)典，很感性，是少數(shù)幾件我擁有的真正經(jīng)得住時間考驗(yàn)的衣服。我希望自己90歲時穿上它，踩著靴子，穿著狗毛毛衣，一幅有教養(yǎng)的冷淡樣子。

Although I like going to fashion shows, and appreciate the dedication of seamstresses and designers alike, I am not the right audience for most of what I see. But, then, how many women are? Who has the will — never mind the time and the money — to wear high fashion, at least as it has been conceived over the past decade, as something extreme, or “special,” in retail jargon? By now, I suspect, most people know that the purpose of runway shows is entertainment, and to create a feeling of desire. They understand that the main interest of high-fashion companies is economic rather than aesthetic. It’s to sell products and capture new markets, much as Coca-Cola and Apple do.

雖然我喜歡參加時裝發(fā)布會，也欣賞裁縫和設(shè)計(jì)師們的投入，但是對大部分我看到的服裝來說，我不是目標(biāo)觀眾。但是又有多少女人是呢?誰愿意——更別提有時間和金錢——穿高級時裝呢?至少在過去十年里，高級時裝被認(rèn)為是某種極端的東西，或者用零售業(yè)的行話來說是某種“特別”的東西。到如今，我猜大部分人都知道時裝秀的目的是娛樂，是創(chuàng)造一種欲望。他們知道高級時裝公司的主要興趣是經(jīng)濟(jì)收入而非審美。跟可口可樂公司和蘋果公司一樣，它們看重的是銷售產(chǎn)品，搶占新市場。

Notions like taste and practical chic are way too complex to sell today, when much of the world’s population is consumed with either acquisition or basic survival. For that reason it’s tough to talk about comfort and a moral economy of style without sounding grim or like one is trying to promote a car with three wheels (hey, but it drives!). On the other hand, this idea is not so far from something Coco Chanel offered when she arrived in New York, in March 1931. Asked by a reporter to define the fashionable woman, Chanel said, “She dresses well but not remarkably. . . . She disobeys fashion.” Then, perhaps thinking of her rival Elsa Schiaparelli, Chanel added, “But she is not eccentric. I hate eccentricity.” So she was extolling understatement and ease, yes, but also suggesting these choices reflected virtues like self-control and seriousness.

像品味和實(shí)用的別致這樣的觀念太復(fù)雜，如今根本推廣不了，因?yàn)檫@世界上很多人忙于獲得基本的生存需求。因此，談?wù)撌孢m和時尚的道德經(jīng)濟(jì)難免聽起來很冷酷，或者像在努力推廣只有三個輪子的汽車(嘿，但是它能開!)。另一方面，這個觀念與可可·香奈兒(Coco Chanel)1931年3月到達(dá)紐約時說的話有點(diǎn)接近。一位記者讓香奈兒給時尚女性下定義，香奈兒說，“她穿得很好，但是不引人注目……她不尊從時尚。”然后，也許是想到了她的對手艾爾莎·夏帕瑞麗(Elsa Schiaparelli)，香奈兒補(bǔ)充說，“但是她不古怪。我討厭古怪。”所以她頌揚(yáng)的是低調(diào)和舒適，不過她也暗示這些選擇反映出自控和認(rèn)真等美德。

Lately I’ve noticed many more women, all of them in the zone of careers and complicated family routines, all of them with an eye for fashion, gravitating toward an almost boyish uniform of slim-cut trousers, pullovers and flat shoes. Or a leather jacket with bland layers underneath. They’re hardly wearing makeup, so their complexions look fresh. (We all know that too much makeup ages everyone.) At the last round of shows in Paris, I noted that even my French sisters had begun to ditch their adored stilettos for low heels. That was quite a concession for them, I thought. Something must be up, because those women don’t do anything on a whim.

最近，我注意到很多女人——她們?nèi)加惺聵I(yè)和復(fù)雜的家庭生活，全都有時尚眼光——傾向于幾乎帶點(diǎn)男孩子氣的服裝：修身長褲，套頭衫和平底鞋?；蛘呤堑撞坑衅降瓐D層的皮夾克。她們幾乎從不化妝，所以她們的膚色看起來很清新(我們都知道化妝太多讓人老得快)。在巴黎的最后一輪時裝秀上，我注意到連我的法國姐妹們也開始拋棄心愛的細(xì)高跟鞋，改穿低跟鞋。我認(rèn)為對她們來說這是重大讓步。肯定是發(fā)生了什么，因?yàn)檫@些女人做什么事都不是一時興起。

Of course, in the 1990s, Helmut Lang and Jil Sander led a revolution with plain tailoring, neutral colors and natural hair and makeup. Lang’s style, in particular, proved popular with editors and buyers, many of whom had witnessed the sex gags of Jean Paul Gaultier and Thierry Mugler in the ’80s, and were sickened or just bored by them. More than a decade earlier, Halston, Stephen Burrows and Calvin Klein had created a template of modern informality, with clean sportswear and lightly constructed dresses for a generation that wanted to go braless. Indeed, these styles reflected not only broad social change, but also the loosening of designers’ grip on women’s bodies. Yet, by the early ’90s, with the exception of Marc Jacobs’s grunge collection for Perry Ellis, along with Zoran and Joan Vass, New York was largely obsessed with the retro trappings of nouvelle society glamour, down to fur-trimmed pencil skirts and gloves. No wonder women sought the anonymity of Lang and Sander.

當(dāng)然，在20世紀(jì)九十年代，海爾姆特·朗(Helmut Lang)和吉爾·桑達(dá)(Jil Sander)用樸實(shí)的剪裁、中性的色調(diào)以及自然的發(fā)型和妝容領(lǐng)導(dǎo)了一場革命。尤其是朗的風(fēng)格很受編輯和買家們的歡迎，她們中的很多人在八十年代見證并厭倦了讓·保羅·高提耶(Jean Paul Gaultier)和蒂埃里·穆勒(Thierry Mugler)的性玩笑。十多年前，侯司頓(Halston)、斯蒂芬·巴羅斯(Stephen Burrows)和卡爾文·克萊恩(Calvin Klein)開創(chuàng)了現(xiàn)代休閑服的模板——簡潔的運(yùn)動服，為不想穿文胸的一代人設(shè)計(jì)的樣式簡單的連衣裙。實(shí)際上，這些風(fēng)格不僅反映了廣泛的社會變化，而且放松了設(shè)計(jì)師們對女性身體的過度關(guān)注。但是，在90年代早期，除了馬克·雅可布(Marc Jacobs)為派瑞·艾力斯(Perry Ellis)設(shè)計(jì)的格郎基系列，以及卓然(Zoran)和Joan Vass，紐約主要被新社會魅力的復(fù)古服飾所控制，比如鑲皮毛邊的鉛筆裙和手套。難怪那時候的女人們追逐朗和桑達(dá)這樣的無名之輩。

What’s changed since then? From my perspective, having written enthusiastically about the conceptual, art-inspired fashion of the past 20 years — whether by Martin Margiela, Miuccia Prada or Raf Simons — I can say we’ve become increasingly weary of this approach. As the roles of women kept evolving during the ’80s and ’90s, it was easy, maybe necessary, to attach meaning to clothes. They were powerful, daring, etc. But, let’s face it, much of the language around clothes today sounds forced. I was touched when, at the January men’s shows in Milan, Prada talked about her rather straightforward tailoring, which included a few women’s looks as well, saying, “I wanted to make it real. And I like that now.”

從那以后發(fā)生了什么變化?我在過去20年里熱情地書寫概念化的、受藝術(shù)啟發(fā)的時裝——不管是來自馬丁·馬吉拉(Martin Margiela)的、繆西婭·普拉達(dá)(Miuccia Prada)，還是拉夫·西蒙斯(Raf Simons)——我可以說我們越來越厭倦這種方式了。在八九十年代，女性的角色在不斷變化，所以很容易也有必要給服裝賦予意義。它們是有力的，大膽的，等等。但是，讓我們面對現(xiàn)實(shí)吧：如今圍繞服裝的大部分語言聽起來都很牽強(qiáng)。在1月份的米蘭男裝秀上，普拉達(dá)談起她相當(dāng)直接的剪裁方式(其中也包括幾套女裝)時說，“我想讓它看起來真實(shí)。我現(xiàn)在喜歡真實(shí)。”我聽了很有感觸。

So do most women, though this wish doesn’t strike them as a novelty. All the same, the desire to be comfortable is profound, shaping attitudes and markets. Witness the explosion of so-called lifestyle brands like Vince, which last year became a publicly traded company, an indication that the audience is hardly baby boomers looking for less complicated stuff. For the most part, with the exception of Stella McCartney, who makes a point of including stylishly executed casual looks like this spring’s tapered track pants and tops, high fashion ignores this consumer.

大多數(shù)女人也喜歡真實(shí)，雖然這個愿望對她們來說不是新鮮事。盡管如此，舒適的欲望意義深遠(yuǎn)，它塑造態(tài)度和市場。以Vince這樣的所謂的生活方式品牌的大爆發(fā)為證。去年Vince成了一家公開上市公司，這表明觀眾不是嬰兒潮出生的一代，他們尋找的是不那么復(fù)雜的東西。除了史黛拉·麥卡特尼 (Stella McCartney)——它特別注意把時髦的行政休閑裝包含進(jìn)來，比如今年春天的錐形運(yùn)動褲和上衣——高級時裝公司大多忽視了這個消費(fèi)群體。

But things are changing. I perked up when I saw that Alber Elbaz based Lanvin’s prefall collection around chic sweatpants, mixing them with wool cocoon coats and low-heeled pumps. I had the sense that he was keen to tackle the matter of comfort without sacrificing luxury, and he succeeded. Probably no one defines the modern sense of comfort with more authority than Phoebe Philo of Céline. Not long ago, she stunned loyalists with a loosey-goosey collection of long, frayed dresses, soft pajama-like pants and sandals lined with fur. Well, guess what? Other designers are still knocking off that collection. Although Philo has steered Céline somewhat away from that specific style, as you would expect of a designer eager to stay ahead of her competitors, she remains committed to its essence. For me, that collection captured something rare in today’s world of anxious, self-created stars — and that is a woman of indeterminate age who knows what she likes and has shrugged off what she no longer has any use for, and maybe never did. If that sounds rather limited, that’s the point. I’ll stick with the same paint colors and my lovely old kilt, because, it turns out, there’s a surprising amount of harmony in unremarkable choices.

但是事情在變化。當(dāng)我看到阿爾伯·艾爾巴茨(Alber Elbaz)設(shè)計(jì)的浪凡(Lanvin)早秋系列圍繞時髦的寬松運(yùn)動褲、羊毛繭形外套和低跟便鞋展開時，我的精神為之一振。我有一種感覺，他熱切地想在不犧牲奢華的前提下解決舒適性的問題，而且他成功了。很可能，就現(xiàn)代舒適感的定義這個話題而言，沒人比Céline的菲比·菲羅(Phoebe Philo)更權(quán)威性。不久之前，她推出的系列十分松弛，讓支持者們大吃一驚，其中包括松口的長連衣裙，柔軟的寬松長褲和鑲毛邊的涼鞋。呃，你猜怎么著?其他設(shè)計(jì)師還在模仿那個系列。雖然菲羅如今已經(jīng)多少把思琳引離了那種風(fēng)格，因?yàn)樵O(shè)計(jì)師們總想走在其他競爭者前面，但是她仍然堅(jiān)持它的精髓。在我看來，那個系列體現(xiàn)了在當(dāng)今焦慮的、自創(chuàng)明星的社會里罕見的某種東西——它表現(xiàn)的是一個年齡不確定的女性，她知道自己喜歡什么，擺脫了她不再需要或者說也許從來沒有需要過的東西。那也許聽起來很有局限性，但是它就是關(guān)鍵。我將繼續(xù)使用同樣的油漆顏色，穿那件可愛的舊短裙，因?yàn)椋Y(jié)果證明，在不起眼的選擇中包含令人驚訝的和諧。