They Should Call It Medio-crappy (mediocrity).

Doesn't that sound like the best thing ever? Nope.

            I happened across a great quote last week, or perhaps it happened upon me. “Everything popular is wrong.” Oscar Wilde. For something that sounds so negative, these words just filled my soul with tiny, prickly bubbles of joy. It was a confirmation of my philosophies about popular culture smashed into four words.

            For quite a while I have been living under the self-imposed manifesto that if a lot of people like something, then it is by no doubt mediocre. I have applied the concept of the Bell curve to modern culture. Nothing is free from condemnation: books, music, movies, politicians, food, whatever. As evidence I present to you Coldplay (Bore me a freakin’ river of tears), Memoirs of a Geisha (The book OR the movie, take your pick. They both sucked), Panera Bread Company, The DaVinci Code (Again, choose your pick with the medium), the movies of M Knight Shyamalan (did you see Unbreakable? I laughed so hard in that movie the person I went with thought I was having a seizure), and Jimmy Carter. Obviously there are plenty more things that could be added to this list, like Ugg boots.

            I find it hard to believe that there are many people out there who would say that any of those things are their favorite. “OH MAN PANERA IS MY FAVORITE RESTAURANT!” Really? You need to get out more. If Coldplay is your favorite band, just stop. We can’t be friends anymore. You see, I just don’t think it’s possible for something that pleases such a wide range of people to really be of amazing quality. It goes with the whole dumbing down of things to reach larger audiences. Bland things are more palatable. They are also less interesting.

            Life is too short for bland. Not only do things that challenge our beliefs or conflict with what we like provide spice, sometimes it’s just fun to be offended. South Park is offensive, and it’s great. Even my Mom likes it - especially the episode where the Native Americans try and infect the townspeople with SARS by giving them blankets they rubbed with naked Chinese men. Joan Rivers is hilarious, and the things she says are absolutely foul. The most offensive thing I’ve ever seen was Clerks 2. There’s a scene involving racial slurs that is by far one of my all time favorite movie moments. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe it does! But definitely not mediocre or average.

            I even take this concern over mediocre things so far as to worry when things I really like start to become more popular. It’s the whole Wal-Mart effect. Someone makes a great product, but it’s expensive. Wal-Mart recognizes that it’s great and wants to be able to sell it to their customers at a lower price tag. They pay the company to make a shittier version of the product at a lower cost that they can then sell at a lower price, and, all of a sudden it is no longer marketable for the company to make the higher end product. Luxury brands cash in on this effect too, except they don’t lower their prices. They just recognize that a lot of people want their product and figure out how to make some of it for less. My example for this would be the Louis Vuitton monogram handbags you see everywhere – that are made in China.  
            Bands sell out too, not just manufacturers. Pink Floyd got awful. I mean, REALLY awful. There may have been some personnel changes, but that aside, A Momentary Lapse of Reason may be one of the worst pop albums I have ever listened to. It wasn't a total flop either. How they got from Careful With That Axe Eugene to Learning To Fly (gag), I will never ever understand.  

            Is there a solution to this problem? Probably not. Most of the things I like don’t risk becoming popular. Sometimes it is comforting to know that you are odd. It would be nice, however, if we could train the population to demand better than mediocre. How? I’m open to suggestions.                         

It's Fashion Friday!: Monstrous Marketing Muck-ups

            Whenever I find myself in an airport, I can’t resist buying a magazine. It’s pretty much the only time I spend the money on print media. I find that looking at pictures on airplanes is an acceptable activity. Looking at pictures and sleeping. Now I own a laptop, so a whole new world has been opened. As you’re getting to know me I can hear you thinking, “Sarah, do something different? No way! She bought a magazine anyway!” It’s true. I did. And as much as I wanted to buy the copy of The Economist calling out to me with it’s headlining article about the crisis in Syria, my shallow side won out and I picked up the latest issue of Vogue with the sole intention of reading it to rip it apart. What is it I have against Vogue, you ask? I don’t know. Maybe I just never forgave them for eliminating their horoscope section.

This is not appealing unless you are a
purple martian looking for a new bathrobe.

            Lucky for Ms. Wintour and her bland publication, I didn’t even get to their content before I found myself completely overwhelmed with distaste directly resultant from marketing failures. Did I go to sleep and miss some sort of shift in reality? I was under the impression that print advertisements, especially fashion print marketing, were to entice and encourage you to desire and purchase product. An effective marketing spread makes me not only want the clothing, shoes, and jewelry that the model is wearing, but also the life, looks, and location of the model. I want to BE the model. I want to be standing by that pool, drinking the martini, wearing the diamonds, having the perfectly tailored chiffon empire-waisted gown gently floating in the breeze as my pool boy waits for further instructions.  Right?

            Well, I opened up the August 2012 issue of Vogue and found myself staring at Lindsey Wixson decked out in giant purple slabs of agate (Maybe? That’s what it looked like. I’m no gemologist), with the most dreadful lilac space age bob, carrying a rock-like minaudière that resembled a coffin for a boutonnière, sporting all black Chanel. Perhaps in a different setting Karl Lagerfeld’s designs would have been appealing, but I looked at that picture and thought, “Good grief I don’t EVER want to look like that.” 

Hat trashcans - the portable way to make sure you have somewhere
to dispose of your recycling after lunch.

            Not many pages later, I found myself staring at some print from Louis Vuitton (they just can’t catch a break with me this month). Now I will say, the handbags these young ladies were photographed with were somewhat smart. I could like them in a different setting. The stylists RUINED it. These girls have upside down trashcans on their head. Felted wool trashcans. Millinery on LSD. No, scratch that. On LSD they’d at least be in pretty colors. It’s Millinery on meth. Toothless, dirty, ugly hats. The peasants in My Fair Lady had nicer hats. 

Little Miss Muffet sat under her tuffet, watched Edward
Scissorhands, and lost her mind (in quadruplicate).

            Even so, LV doesn’t take the cake for the worst showing in the magazine. It’s funny - these are the kind of weird photographs I expect from D&G, Miu Miu, Balmain, and the like….in comparison their ads were so tame. The winner of the worst editorial marketing photo of the year is…… drum roll….. Juergen Teller for Marc Jacobs!!!!! When you turn the page and see a bunch of dumpy anorexic girls in white cake makeup, with faux? Real? Fur hats (although they were big enough to be tuffets for Pomeranians), dowdy sweaters and brocade jackets, and think “Is THAT JOHNNY DEPP?” you know you’re in trouble. I don’t want to look like Johnny Depp. I don’t want to wear a fur tuffet on my head. And I certainly don’t want to hang out with anorexic girls in ugly sweaters. I want pretty dresses, diamonds, and pool boys. If anyone in your marketing department told you otherwise, they were sadly mistaken. 

It's Fashion Friday!: Polka Dots - Art or Affliction? Yayoi Kusama for LV Unveiled

Yayoi Kusama at the Serpentine Gallery in 2000 with her work
 Dots Obsession. Photograph: Graham Turner

Japan’s Yayoi Kusama …… Some say she’s the greatest contemporary artist to come out of Japan. Art is completely subjective, but I have to believe those people are wrong. My most recent experience with the work of Kusama was in print. I happened upon an edition of Alice In Wonderland that has been published with her illustrations. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but the combination of the perfect illustration with a story can have an unparalleled impact. I happen to recall, as a child, seeing a disturbing image of a man’s drooping face alongside a story in a collection of works by Lewis Carroll and being frightened to the bone. An ill-placed illustration just leaves the reader confused. This Alice in Wonderland is just a whole lot of confusing. The illustrations are at best cute, but they don’t make sense to the story.

            Let’s talk Louis. Let’s talk Louis and Yayoi. Yayoi Kusama’s “thing,” if you will, is polka dots. She is famous for covering things in polka dots. Louis Vuitton has often collaborated with artists for limited edition collections. You may remember my favorite, the Takashi Murakami smiling cherry blossom monogram bags. I generally think paying large quantities of money for handbags carrying other people's initials is a laughable activity, but even I wanted one of those bags. Marc Jacobs, artistic director at LV, decided the brand should collaborate with Ms. Kusama. And now we have a lot of dots. Dots, dots, and more dots covering the monogrammed prints and textures.

           

            The line has only been launched this week (Tuesday, while I was busy complaining about the bookstore where I discovered the Alice in Wonderland edition). Perhaps it’s too soon to tell how people will react. I am not impressed. I admit, I do not care for Ms. Kusama’s art in general. I hesitate to even call it art. 

3.1 Phillip Lim Homage
to Roy Lichtenstein

            It is less artistic than the pop art of Roy Lichtenstein, which, coincidentally, you could also be wearing this season. 3.1 Phillip Lim has some Lichtenstein-inspired pieces for pre-Fall 2012 (such as The Break-Up at Netaporter). This PVC handbag titled The Break-Up is actually just a barely modified version of the face of the blonde woman in Lichtenstein's work Kiss V. While also not my style, it's fun. 
            Don’t get me wrong - the Kusama line for Louis is fun, lively, and colorful. Some of the pieces are cute. I’d probably wear some of the accessories if they happened to appear as gifts in my closet. Is it new and revolutionary? No. Seurat did dots, long before Kusama, and to a much more impressive effect. Are they stunning, mind-blowingly beautiful clothes? No. Is the line distinctive enough that people will see it and know, “Wow, that’s limited edition Yayoi Kusama for LV!”? Probably not. It doesn’t really look any different than anything that might appear in the average Moschino line. Would it be cheaper to let me paint polka dots on your LV monogram bag? Of course. Is it art? You know how I feel. You decide.