SHE SAYS...
I want a YSL Le Smoking, the tux created in the late 1960s that is now a
fashion classic. I want it more than a Rolex, a Porsche or even Gisele’s
legs, and I want it because it defines the androgynous look for women at its
sleekest best. It’s a look that I love.
This February, Stefano Pilati is continuing the grand Yves Saint Laurent
tradition of making menswear for women with his first unisex collection.
It’s a great idea for girls who like to look like boys. When a suit bag the
size of a small car turned up, stuffed with the collection, you can imagine
I was giddy. For him: filmy tops; for me: a sexy detective’s trench. For
both of us: a sharp midnight-blue suit. As Pip and I laid out the male and
female collections, I initially coveted some of his sharper tailoring, but I
grew to appreciate the slightly softer lines of the female pieces. The look
is relaxed, not so much a “borrowed from your boyfriend” look, but
structured enough to give you an inbuilt strength. I might have worried I
looked the more masculine, were it not for the bag of YSL killer heels — the
final touch that turns a boyishly dressed girl into something all woman.
Fooling around for these pictures, it was easy for Pip and me to play games
with gender roles: me playing up the Masters of the Universe aggression; Pip
looking innocent, gentle and sweet.
Isn’t that the whole point: monkeying around with identity? More eyeliner, we
said, as the make-up artist painted Pip’s face. He looked so pretty. All I
wanted were sharper cheekbones and less of the rosebud on the lips.
The test came when we went to a party at the Ivy Club — could I stand out from
the pretty crowd in my tail coat and lean, silky pants? I probably didn’t
look terribly approachable, but heck, who cares? I felt tall, tailored and
fierce. That’s the danger with androgyny: it can represent strength to the
detriment of approachability. Look at Grace Jones, at 60 still a master of
the art of confusing gender messages. And frightening with it. She doesn’t
date men; she eats them, surely, and then uses their ribs for toothpicks.
When androgyny works on a man or a woman it is, to me, the apex of
stylishness. I enjoy the tradition of the fey, pouty boy pop stars, from
Marc Bolan through Brett Anderson to the countless little manlettes of
today. More, I love to see a girl giving good boy. Even my style anti-icon,
Posh Spice, looks admirable when she does her little flat cap and wide pants
thing. And don’t get me started on Garbo, Dietrich and Hepburn — titans of
the art of dressing like the world’s chicest man, while sizzling with feminine
power.
Androgyny isn’t for everyone, however. Last year, I was on a date and it
was going well. I was wearing a heavy cream crêpe-de-chine Phillip Lim shirt
and some superlative crisp, deep blue, Japanese denim jeans. I had
terrifically high shoes on (I sometimes think I express every ounce of my
femininity through my feet). I thought I looked great. Then the date’s
ex-wife appeared and asked everyone in earshot: “What the f*** is he doing
with that lesbian?”
HE SAYS...
It’s odd that, given I was wearing the YSL unisex collection, I was feeling
more manly than at any other time in my life. Especially as it was the first
occasion I’d worn anything made out of fishnet. But that’s because this is
androgyny 2009-style, and real men have recently embraced the sort of
feminine fashions only Mick Jagger had the balls for before.
Take Kings of Leon. Straight out of the Deep South, their spray-on jeans and
plunging cleavages are accessorised with wild sprawls of chest hair and
empty bottles of whiskey. Then there’s Pete Doherty, who kicked it all off
with Hedi Slimane’s Dior Homme silhouette. Forget hours spent doing arm
curls down at Fitness First — the new metrosexual ideal is to be slim enough
to be able to steal clothes from your girlfriend.
The mid-1990s saw the first wave of gender-neutralising that I remember, when
Kate Moss was slinking around in her white vest; fast-forward to last year,
and Moss and her boyfriend, Jamie Hince, have been playing casual swapsies
with their grubby trousers, fedoras and suit jackets as if they were STDs.
As soon as Kate works a look, we know every girl wants in on it — only this
time the men are also following suit.
Until recently, I was a fully paid-up member of the baggy jeans and trainers
brigade, clinging on to my twenties with a stronger grip than the one on the
soles of my Nikes. But as Converse started to feel age-inappropriate for a
man near to 30, I bought my first pair of proper, grown-up shoes. From
Bottega Veneta and in brown leather, with a pointy end and an ever-so-slight
lift in the heel, they were not what my father would have classified as
“men’s shoes” 10 years ago. But as soon as I slipped them on, I was walking
taller, more deliberately, and with more purpose in my stride.
Then I bought my first bit of tailoring — a Vivienne Westwood top from eBay.
The asymmetric neckline could easily have covered a pair of breasts, but
this dabble into power dressing instantly made me feel I could take on the
world. Next purchase was a Paul Smith pinstripe suit jacket, not dissimilar
to the ones Madonna rocked in her Marlene Dietrich phase. And it imbued me
with all of her blonde ambition.
So, layering on Yves Saint Laurent’s spring/summer 09 collection felt like the
logical next step in my transformation to professional adult. Undoing the
suit bags full of clothes, we had trouble working out what was supposed to
be mine and what was meant for Kate — which was pretty much the point. The
men’s silk shirts were so strong and simple, yet alluring and
sensuous; the fishnet jumper clung in all the right places. Strutting down
the street in our complementary suits, we were turning heads. I’d like to
think it was as much for the high levels of confidence afforded us by the
sharpness of our jackets as that we were essentially wearing the same
things.
Modern androgynes don’t want to confuse gender identities, but draw the
best qualities from both. And if that means a little guy-liner to really
make my eyes pop, well, I’ll see you at the nearest beauty counter.
All clothes from Yves Saint Laurent Spring/Summer 2009 Edition Unisex
collection; www.ysl.com
