People in fashion use the word aspirational a lot. But what does it really mean? The dictionary defines it as a desire, longing or aim. So, the style buzzword that designers, editors and their lackeys canonize inherently means, in fashion, one constantly strives for the unattainable – nice.
That being said, I am an aspiration victim. I flip through glossies tearing out icons and idols and tacking them on my bare walls, buy things that don’t fit my lifestyle but fit perfectly in the dream of who I would love to be, and I am left with a closet full of it-items and an over stimulated, confused identity.
Take the two pairs of Margiela cone-heeled boots I acquired over the weekend at my best friend’s store Alchemist in Miami. I desire, long and aim to be a Margiela woman who knows but doesn’t care, reads but doesn’t rant, has style but is never a victim. Although I never wear heels during the day I thought the two pairs I bought (one pebbled suede up-to-the-knee black boot, the other a brick red ankle booty), both of which boasted “comfortable” heels would magically morph my slightly inadequate self into the type of woman I envy who wears makeup to work and blow dries her hair every morning (I do neither).
So on the flight back to New York I wore my black boots like a badge of honor feeling invincible and deathly chic. But even a magician like Margiela cannot defy science and as the Jet Blue bird climbed altitude and my feet swelled, the suede togs that I adored became personal torture devices suffocating two inflated pillows that once were my feet. Of course my precious Margiela’s would not zip again and as I sweat and awkwardly fumbled in my middle seat, it became all too clear I am not that sleek, sophisticated Margiela girl – I’m me, the one who ruins her Lanvin flats in the rain, who loses her Louboutins while crossing the street, whose beloved berets get crushed by a stampede of Parisian motorcyclists only to go right back on my head without (even considering) any dry-cleaning.
Final Word: Women will always purchase things in hopes of becoming someone else, perhaps a “better” version of themselves. Maybe Margiela was making a statement at his Spring show where faceless models shrouded by Cousin It coiffes and nude pantyhose evoked the insanity and meaningless of fashion. A thought worth pondering…in the meantime I’ll stick to wearing my aspirational fashions at sea level.
