This weekend I was finally able to get through the very last page of the very last September issue stacked on my coffee table. To my dismay, I did not feel the anticipated elation after completing Vogue. Instead I felt insulted, indignant and a tad outraged.
On page 394, I was initially happy to see a article titled "What Price Fashion?" However, after about 1 paragraph of the article I began my famous eye roll and muttered under my breath as my Fiance tried to watch CSPAN. He made the mistake of asking me what was wrong, at which point I told him at length and spared no detail.
When I say that I despise Vogue's alienation of the average woman from affordable fashion, I do not consider myself the average woman. I fully admit that I would spend my last dollar on a new cashmere sweater over a meal any day. I refer to women, like my mother, who run a household, raise children, are professionals, entertain, attend cocktail parties, have dinners at 4 star restaurants (5 star perhaps once a year or on their anniversary), savor a new pair of patent pumps, and light up when Chanel offers a free lipstick sample with purchase at Bloomingdales. When Vogue praises Lanvin for offering a $2,800 frock, and Jil Sander for displaying a $1,300 sheath I can hardly share their excitement. Vogue then goes on to declare with acclaim that cotton blouses were shown by Givenchy's Ricardo Tisci for "as little as $440." Such adoration for such offerings is ill-placed. When a designer can learn to offer items south of $500 (and I'm not talking about cotton items which should be south of $200) then maybe he can have some applause. I think there is a distinction between coveting a $2,500 Chanel iconic purse from childhood because your grandmother always carried hers, and hoping one day to be able to blow thousands for an average looking black dress simply because Vogue raves about it being sensible in tough economic times.Vogue is supposed to show woman the luxury of everyday life. Give us something to strive for that we can actually achieve. I don't think many woman can come home from a day at the office, monthly mortgage payments, sitter's fees, cable bill all lying on the kitchen table, and declare to herself and her husband that she's going to snag a $2,800 Lanvin dress because she feels shes worked hard this week, and Vogue says its a deal. A $158 cashmere J.Crew cardigan? Perhaps so.