Finding your own style is about communicating through clothes what you want to project about yourself. We might think of Tom Wolfe’s white suits or Andy Warhol’s Brooks Brothers button downs and jeans as examples of iconic style identities, representing respectively Wolfe's immaculate, clinical detachment from his subjects and Warhol's insouciant delight in the visual library of the everyman. At the same time, a style identity ought to be about comfortable self-expression. We shouldn’t be dressing up for a part, playing someone we’re not.
Brand name products cost more than generics, and aren't always any better. Compare the brand name and generic drugs at CVS, for instance, and you'll find the same active ingredients each, just with more profit to the manufacturer mixed in for the brand name version. It's tempting to think that the same applies to the sunglasses sold next to the checkout line.
Although worsted wool navy trousers are a common sight in American offices today, they are like the Windows 8 operating system that their wearers stare at all day: the vestigial result of a product adapted too far away from its original environment.
Of the many wisdoms handed down to us by the Ancient Greeks, the one I find most relevant to clothing is gnothi seauton: know thyself. And not just in the biblical sense.Experimentation with your wardrobe teaches you not only about your personality, but also about your body.
Symmetry is often suggested as a cardinal virtue of aesthetics. Since symmetry is very unlikely to occur at random, its presence suggests skillful execution of a design. When something is asymmetric, it might be unclear if this is a design choice or a failed attempt at symmetry. You might, for instance, be more sure of the structural integrity of a symmetric building than an asymmetric one.
Summer is a great time for many things. We get music festivals in the park, reasons to go to the beach, and better afternoons spent on the porch. At the same time, it can be hard to enjoy anything when the weather is hot and humid.
Statesmen and scientists, ministers and musicians, authors and artists, there was hardly a human pursuit without a representative in the caricatures of the late Victorian political and society magazine Vanity Fair. From its founding by Thomas Gibson Bowles in January 1869 until its demise at the dawn of the Great War, Vanity Fair’s forty-five year run produced more than two thousand lithographic illustrations.