O.M.G.! I love September. The weather is perfect for sweater sets, the kids are back in school, and the wind starts to turn crisp and cool so I can break out my hound's tooth fall jacket and switch over to bootie shoes from my sandals (so I can stop getting pedicures). But, of course, the best thing about September is a Vogue the size of a telephone book. New York's, not Toledo's. Unlike other so-called devotees who hunt down a copy as soon as it is available on the stands or who savagely tear the plastic from the tome the minute it arrives in the mail, I wait. I wait until September to relish and savor each page in the month it's meant to be read. September.
Similar to other devotees, I do have a September issue ritual. Mine entails drawing a hot bath, pouring a glass of the good stuff, locking the door behind me and sinking into a steamy world of sexy poses and artful still-lifes. I will consume the pages with fervor until the water gets cool, step out of the bath, refill the tub with hot water and get back in and continue until the bath is cool again. Repeat as necessary.
Unlike most fashion mag consumers, I don't just look at the pages to decide whether I like the fashion or not. I study it like a med student studies an anatomy text. I analyze each page like a chef tests for flavors in a dish. I look for answers to the eternal questions: "Why did the designer choose that fabric?" " Does the jewelry enhance or detract from the outfit?" Would I put those shoes with that dress?" "What was the theme of that photo shoot?" "Should that blouse have been in a soft peach or a delicate cream instead of white?" and, "Why, why, why is that outfit not in my closet?"
The September issue isn't the only issue of Vogue I buy, of course. And, of course, I also buy other fashion magazines and I peruse them for ideas and to see which of the new trends jump off the pages and spill out into reality as I people watch. "Did the drop-earring resurface for day time? Oh, yes. Yes it did." I say to myself. Did I catch that pant leg flaring a bit as a harbinger of the return of the bell bottom? You bet. The excitement of seeing the public embracing the latest fashion trend and incorporating it into their lives always makes my heart skip a beat. I like to believe that sometimes I am the first to notice that "ties got wider this summer" or that "cable tights came back for the fall". And I like to think that my passion for fashion magazines is why.
But life is busy with two kids, a small consulting business, and a running routine. So for the other magazines and issues of Vogue, I must admit to a more cursory and superficial review - more like an executive summary, hitting just the bullet points and only digging in deeper when something doesn't make sense. But as for the September issue, I consider myself an aficionado, not just a fair-weather fan.
I am a devout practitioner of the A-line. This slightly swingy, thigh-flaw-hiding style of dress and skirt is my friend. It makes me feel good even when I ate the pasta and skipped running for two weeks. It is a darn, cryin' shame that the style seems to go in and out of fashion so quickly in recent decades, having been a standard throughout the 1940's and 50's. I would've thought that the style would enjoy a more "standard" or "foundational" role in women's wardrobes like the chemise, or Capri pants, or even the little black dress. But, alas, the A-line comes and goes without predictability like a travelling salesman.
While I admit that the style works better in certain fabrics, I think it is perennially underutilized in patterned dresses and skirts. I think the style stands up well to block patterns and florals, as well as solids and textured fabrics. The fabric, of course, needs to have a bit of rigidity to hold the "A" out a bit, otherwise it would be a poorly cut swing style, so weightier woven fabrics and slightly stiff crepes work nicely. I'd like to see the A-line come into it's own as, not just a style, but a movement. Gently feminine but bold and strong, it seems to me that the A-line fits well with the modern woman and her mission to be a provider, a leader, and a team player.
Whenever it is "in" I buy 3 dresses and 4 skirts in the A-line style and wear them constantly; touting this style's forgiving nature and directing people to stores in hopes that I can single-handedly make the style stick. The last time, I was foiled by the emergence of the skinny pant, before that it was work-out chic, and before that, the pant suit. I see the pattern now, however, that we move away from the "A" whenever styles go more body-hugging. Next time, I'll be ready.
