THE SOCIALITE
Last week, we looked at the gypsy, but here we meet her antithesis. While
Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Babe Paley and CZ Guest may be the primordial slime
from which all subsequent socialites emerged, today’s socialite is any gal —
manicurist, celeb, dog-groomer, bank manager — who loves a well-cut skirt, a
Chanel watch (real or fake) and a crucifyingly high heel. You do not need
money, power or a rich husband to embrace the manicured glam of socialite
style. Socialite is a state of mind. Of all the glamazons, the socialite has
the least eccentricity. She is not particularly creative. She leaves that to
the Puccis, Valentinos, Oscar de la Rentas and Karl Lagerfelds of the world,
or the knocker-offers thereof. She’s a follower, not a leader.
Socialite style is, ultimately, about confidence. It is the best style for
professional women. For example, when a lady doctor is advancing upon you
with a needle, you expect her to be wearing clean, well-cut garments from
the conservative end, such as Ralph Lauren. Bohemian looks are a no-no for
healthcare professionals. Law has similar constraints: nobody wants their
will drawn up by a gypsy wearing armfuls of Moroccan bracelets and a Cavalli
leopard-print mini kaftan.
The socialite is a Dior, Tuleh, Prada, Pucci, Chanel, Tory Burch, Blahnik,
Ralph Lauren, Louboutin kind of gal. Socialites believe that Paris is the
fashion capital of the world, whereas existentialists are exclusively
focused on Belgium and, occasionally, England. The fact that the British
designer Hussein Chalayan once buried his collection in his back yard for a
few weeks prior to showing it to the press, while delightful to the
existentialist, is appalling and horrible to the socialite.
THE EXISTENTIALIST
Existentialism was a philosophy developed by Jean-Paul Sartre in Paris. The
basic idea was that life did not make any sense at all and that everything
was chaotic and contingent. Insights into the utter meaninglessness of it
all came in bursts of what M Sartre called nausea. Like most French people,
Jean-Paul was something of a misanthrope, famously declaring that “hell is
other people”. The Sartres, with their angrily belted outer wear and grumpy
expressions, were not the most fun people on earth. They did, however, give
birth to the beatniks, who begat all subsequent supercool, edgy style
movements: punk, grunge, downtown chic and so on. Even the black-clad
fashionistas of the 1990s owe their look to Jean-Paul and Simone. Merci
beaucoup!
The existentialist radiates edginess. Prominent exemplars include Carine
Roitfeld (editor-in-chief of French Vogue), Chrissie Hynde and Tracey Emin.
There are no A-list celeb existentialists: Jennifer Connelly and Charlotte
Gainsbourg are about as close as it gets. Vanessa Paradis vacillates between
existentialist and euroglam gypsy. The contemporary Hollywood red-carpet
look is the antithesis of everything the existentialist stands for. And,
were she ever to find herself on the red carpet, with Joan Rivers asking her
“Who made your dress?”, the existentialist would either go into a tortured
explanation or shout “Some poofter” and keep walking.
Don’t worry, however. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to embrace your
inner existentialist. Nor do you have to wear a monocle or become a lesbian
colloctor of German expressionists. (But don’t rule it out.)
Though it is a much more homogenous group than the gypsies, existentialist
style can still be subdivided into four categories: gamine, Gauche, garçonne
and ghoul.
THE EXISTENTIALIST GAMINE
This is the sweet face of existentialism: Audrey Hepburn at the beginning of
Funny Face, a bookworm in black ballet slippers, black turtleneck (the
existentialist style constant) and black toreador pants. She exudes
intelligence. Her severe appearance suggests that she is interested in the
world of philosophy and ideas, while simultaneously challenging the
self-indulgent glamour of socialite style. Note that I said “suggests”.
Herein lies the magic of existentialist style. It’s the perfect combination
of mystery and implied intellect — in other words, there’s nothing quite
like a black turtleneck to suggest an inner life, even where there may be
none.
THE RIVE GAUCHE EXISTENTIALIST
A beatnik and a thinker, this existentialist is severe, intimidating and quite
mysterious. In her black Lanvin trench coat and Alaïa leather kilt, she
always manages to look like a member of the French resistance. While the
Rive Gauche existentialist’s clothing is basic and simple, her hair is more
complex: a Bettie Page cut, it features short, rounded bangs and
shoulder-length side tresses. When she gets older, she may go the whole hog
and wear it in a braid crown à la Simone de Beauvoir.
THE EXISTENTIALIST GARÇONNE
Garbo did it in the 1930s. Punk girls did it in the 1970s. Madonna did it in
the 1990s. I’m talking about boy chic. Butching it up. Dressing in drag.
Suiting yourself. F to M cross-dressing is strange.
The effect is not quite what you might expect. Diane Keaton single-handedly
carries the flag for this look among straight celebrity women. Her tailored
English-public-school chic — more Waugh than Rat Pack — is so at odds with
the prevailing West Coast blow-up-doll aesthetic that fashion pundits think
she is insane and put her on those “What was she thinking?” pages of the
tabloids. Fortunately, she does not seem to care, and continues to groove on
her inner garçonne.
THE EXISTENTIALIST GHOUL
Paging Siouxsie Sioux! This is the most extreme genre of existentialist, the
kind of women who, in previous centuries, were burnt at the stake — gothic
maquillage, electrocution hair in vivid colours, historicist costume with
sadomasochistic accessories. It is recommended only for the very young.
Existentialist ghouls have become quite rare. Only a genuinely
unconventional gal can pull it off, and they are increasingly thin on the
ground. Amy Winehouse is the only contemporary example. I had high hopes for
Avril Lavigne and Ashlee Simpson, but they both had Hollywood makeovers,
revealing their innate conventionality in the process. It is my sincere hope
that I may prompt a few young ladies to follow La Winehouse — we're talking
style, not self-destructive behaviour — and take this courageous route.
FINALLY, GET SHOPPING
Once you have designated yourself — socialite, existentialist, or gypsy — all
aspects of your life will become simpler. You will know not just which
frocks to buy, but which scented candle is right for you. Your shopping
trips will lose that disheartening random feeling. You will no longer be
making desperate attempts to understand the current fashion scene and see
where you fit in. Instead, you will be cherry-picking from the racks with a
specific mandate. And you will always find what you are looking for.
The gypsy/existentialist/socialite system is eternal. It’s classic, and it
gives you self-reliance. Once you have a category, you are set for life — no
stylists or sycophantic designers for you. Even if you have the wherewithal
to hire Rachel Zoe or L’Wren Scott, outsourcing the reinvention of your
personal style is out of the question. Don’t get disheartened. And, above
all, do not, as so many women today do, gratuitously flaunt both your
cleavages. Say no to ho’ and yes to eccentric glamour!
Eccentric Glamour by Simon Doonan is published tomorrow by Simon &
Schuster at £14.99. To order it for the special price of £13.49, including p&p,
call The Sunday Times BooksFirst on 0870 165 8585 or visit timesonline.co.uk/booksfirst
French Ladies Don't know squat
Vanessa Paradis may veer towards existentialist glamour, but aren’t you fed
up with the praise heaped on her countrywomen?
* Frenchwomen are so fabulous that they can smoke loads of Gitanes without
getting bad breath or brown teeth
* Frenchwomen can eat croissants without getting crumbs on their cashmere
cardigan, or worrying about cholesterol, or becoming hideously obese
* Frenchwomen always take off one accessory before leaving the house
* Frenchwomen understand how to keep their men happy in special, secret
Frenchy ways, which sometimes involve black lingerie
* Frenchwomen can tie an Hermès scarf on their heads and not end up looking
Kurdish (not that there’s anything wrong with looking Kurdish)
* Frenchwomen put lavender in their panty drawers
* Frenchwomen are so bloody perfect and superior, it’s annoying
* Frenchwomen are full of chic!
