Jul 27, 2007

In the heat of fashion

By Malcolm Fleschner / Humor Columnist

Awards season may long be over, but for me a few of the more puzzling questions about what goes on at the big-time award show ceremonies persist, such as:

- How come many of the presenters - supposedly the finest actors of their generation - seem wholly incapable of reading and delivering a few simple lines off a teleprompter?

- While interviewing yet another bronzed, newly "enhanced" young actress, how do the red carpet interviewers resist asking whether she has already picked up her own pair of "Golden Globes"?

- When encouraging award recipients delivering acceptance speeches to "wrap it up," why do the shows' producers simply turn up the music when sharpshooters positioned in the balconies would be so much more effective (and entertaining)?

But the biggest head-scratcher about the whole awards show phenomenon would have to be that inevitable question Joan Rivers and her red carpet-trolling colleagues ask nearly every passing A-lister: "Who are you wearing?" I can't imagine I'm the only person who thinks this question's phrasing makes it sound like the celebrities are wearing the actual designers, rather than simply their clothing.

Joan Rivers: "Halle Berry, you look fabulous tonight. I have to ask. Who are you wearing?"
Halle Berry (carrying a tuxedo-clad man slumped over her shoulder): "What, this old thing? It's Giorgio Armani, of course."
Giorgio Armani (lifting head to speak): Joan, how are you, darling! What's different about you? Did you get new hips? You should come by my office sometime for a fitting!"

Then again, maybe the issue is merely that I'm not particularly knowledgeable about the world of fashion. This fact is frequently confirmed for me, often by complete strangers. "Wow, you are clearly someone who pays no attention to fashion," and "I can see that fashion is not a top priority in your life!" are just a couple of the compliments I regularly hear.

I guess a big part of what confuses me about the fashion world involves precisely how new fashion trends get started. I mean, I know where we regular members of the public are supposed to get our cues for what to wear - from fashion magazines, catalogs, stylish celebrities, the signals beamed into the microchips secretly embedded in the bellybutton and nose piercings teenagers get at the mall, etc. But who's actually making the decisions that, for example, hobo bags, giant sunglasses and leopard-print leggings are going to be "in" this season, or that no men's shorts will be sold unless they stretch down to at least mid-shin length and must include at least 27 pockets?

Most people probably think that the big-name designers are responsible for all new fashion trends, but this is, of course, nonsense. The couture houses in Paris and Milan are far too busy competing to see who can come up with the most ridiculous outfits, which is why all the runway models always look like they're attending a costume party for the criminally deranged.

You've no doubt seen this sort of high fashion show footage before, featuring a runway model wearing something ridiculous like, say, a form-fitting port-a-potty accessorized with a toilet seat necklace and miniature toilet seat bracelets. Yet you likely never thought to yourself, "Gee, I sure hope they have that little number in stock the next time I go to the Gap!"

My theory is that all decisions about more everyday fashion trends are made by the Fashion Oracle, a mysterious figure who is kept blindfolded and bound with pashmina scarves to a radiator in the basement of the Manhattan Bloomingdale's or maybe behind a hidden panel somewhere on the set of the "Tyra Banks Show." Twice a year, all the fashion magazine editors and big-time designers converge on this secret location to receive that season's marching orders. After disappearing into a dressing room the oracle goes into a trance, and then emerges to reveal precisely what will be "in" for the upcoming season.

"I see ... knee and elbow pads as formalwear. I see ... spaghetti straps coming back, but this time made of actual cooked spaghetti. I see ... our hot young starlets rediscovering their underwear, but as outerwear. I see ... the most fashionable people wearing not one, not two, but three crushed velvet capes - all at the same time. I see ..."

Then again, maybe the explanation is far simpler, like that fashion is all being controlled by the Freemasons or the Illuminati. Or maybe aliens. That, at least, would explain some of the fashion commentators on the E! Network. Sadly, we may never know the truth. But maybe that's for the best. After all, our role is to passively follow along with the fashion trends that are dictated to us, not to ask a bunch of silly questions.

We can leave that job to Joan Rivers.

Feeling particularly fashion forward today? Tell Malcolm all about it at Malcolm@Culture Shlock.com.