Hegemony is a Hideous style statement.

'A man of true style should be noticed for who he is not what he wears' is a statement that is all too easily misinterpreted. It does NOT mean that what he wears is of no consequence. Quite the opposite in fact. But what he wears must describe what he is . . . seamlessly.   This is a challenge for many men for whom translating their 'inner me'  in visual terms is even harder than it is in verbal ones.

Its not that men are lazy as such, but that a certain indolence is the sad but inevitable result of the establishment of the Suit as the sine plus ultra  if acceptable male dressing. In fact the trouser suit is arguably  the single most significant visual sign of male power that the western world has to offer. Despite being constantly tweaked it is virtually fashion proof - no wonder it has had more longevity than any other sartorial form.  A good suit maketh a man especially in the public space at work and on high days and holidays but the rest of the time he can feel free to bum around in fleaces, canvas cargos and holey rugby tops without lessening his stake in the world . . . . . UUUUUUUGH Hegemony is a Hideous style statement!

It must be said that the trouser suit is (conceptually and aesthetically speaking) a beautiful thing and an icon of modernity akin to the light bulb or the silicone chip. BUT the down side of men being provided with this precious and historically weighted object and thereby 'told' how to dress in order to look smart is the complete dearth of visual/ sartorial imagination and the almost total repression of creative pleasure in dressing up that has resulted in the brains of 80% of the male population of Great Britain and probably 95% of males across the Atlantic. The general conservatism of the Esquire 'Best Dressed Men List' is merely another example of this. The list is a full and frank demonstration of the extraordinary but true fact that a man's individuality has to find its expression in the details (sometimes microscopic ones) of his tailoring.

I am sure I will come back to these musings at some later date but I have to confess that I have been much preoccupied after having been set the challenge of reviewing what I freely confess is the heavy female bias of my style icons list. The criteria that make a man a style icon seem so different to those of women and relatively few of my male clients and acquaintances will actually admit to actually having one or even having thought about it.  They look baffled when I ask them whose style they admire.

But for some the truth or dare response is a lusty confession that is immediate and unashamed especially after a few drinks at a dinner party. ‘Lenny Kravitz’ offered one media pundit, with great enthusiasm I would LUUUUUUVE to dress like him. ‘Paul Weller’ offered a ‘director of menswear’ almost swooning with admiration. My own dear other half whose, style I admire enough never to dare interfere with, will always say Steve McQueen in a short sleeve sweatshirt in the Great Escape is his pinnacle of sartorial cool.  But then he also always cites Jules Holland and Prince Charles (interestingly they are good friends I have been told) as men who know how to dress.

I have my theory about this – because being his partner I guess I can pick apart the poor man's sartorial predilections in public:  Jules Holland is cool because he knows how to translate a chappy well tailored look into something a little more ‘rock and roll’ (but not too much) that suits most men and keeps them looking slick once the sartorial and physiognomic ‘challenges’ of middle age creep in. Prince Charles, is cool because he still manages to retain a certain stealth eccentricity within the bounds of his unwavering British traditionalism and even more painfully unwavering ‘good taste’.  This is a balance that other men of limited wealth and limited taste can only dream of achieving.

I conclude that all three of these men - McQueen, Holland, Windsor, - are unique versions of a sort of unassailable masculinity articulated through ‘a certain style’: . . . tough, smooth, gentlemanly men’s men whose clothes describe 'who they are' . . . well within the mould of a traditionally tailored masculinity but subtly rebellious with it.

Anyhow here are the provisional results of my research: An Icons List for Clients and blog followers alike to pillage from.

Sartorial Aesthetes and Decadents: Beau Brummel, Oscar Wilde, Quentin Crisp, Andy Warhol, The 18^th century Macaroni, Henry Holland.

Androgenes (subset of latter): Boy George, David Bowie, Eddie Izzard, Kurt Cobain Noel Fielding (of The Mighty Boosh).

Debonair: Terry Thomas, Brian Ferry, Cary Grant, Graham Hill, Jules Holland, Noel Coward, PDiddy, Peter Wingard, David Walliams, Roger Moore (as Bond).

English Gent (subtle variation of latter): Robin Hood, Sir Frances Drake, David Niven, John Steed, Alan Wicker, Frank Muir.

Easy Maestro (its all about the music honestly):Nigel Kennedy, Rufus Wainright, Lenny Kravitz, John Lennon, Miles Davis, Nick Drake, JayZ.

Greatness having Been trust upon them: Lapo Elkann, Prince Charles, Tom Ford (crown prince of fashion), Henry VIII, Prince Albert of Monaco, Guy Richie (always now madonna's Ex).

Immaculate (Male) Authority: Giovanni Agnielli, Barak Obama, Humphry Bogart, Sean Connery (as Bond), Michael Caine (The Italian Job).

Rebels Without a Cause: James Dean (obviously), Marlon Brando, Chet Baker, Elvis Presley, Joe Strummer, Ian Curtis. Mark Bolan.

Romantics: Lord Byron, Adam Ant, Jimmi Hendrix, Prince, Russel Brand, Mick Jagger, Johnny Depp.

Urban Cool: David Hemmings (in Blow Up), Jean-Paul Belmondo, Paul Newman, Steve McQueen, Starsky and Hutch, Paul Weller,

Refuseniks: Hugh Fearnley-Wittingstall, Boris Johnson, Ken Livingstone, Marco Pierre-White,

All American: Robert Redford (As Gatsby) any Ralph Lauren Model, Brad Pitt.

Dr. DressMe asks who’s your ‘Style Icon’ ?

As we at DressMe like to demonstrate, there are positive ways of exploiting the potential of a style icon in the construction of a signature style .

Samantha Cameron, the wife of the Tory leader David Cameron has confessed to Harpers magazine that her fashion ‘alter ego is Gwen Stefani’, ‘Not that I ever dress like her’ she comments ‘but in a different life. . .’ Never fear Samantha were you my client  I would never suggest that the Tory party’s ‘first lady’ actually appear at her next photo-call wearing combat trousers and a bleached beehive. But it is SOOOOOO tragic to have such fashion fantasies and never be able to do anything about it!!!. A well judged injection of Stefani’s style ethos into Cameron’s look might give her (and David) a boost on all fronts. 

 In fact Samantha Cameron shares her ‘Stephaniesque’ aspirations with a surprising number of DressMe lady Clients (all perfectly sane and intelligent women). The difference is that every DressMe client gets to express their ‘inner icon’ . . . stylishly and in a way that is unique to them.   

 Of course anyone can get the immediate - ‘I am a totally unnatural blond but I am what I am and I get what I want’ - feel good factor by singing Madonna ‘Material Girl’ or ‘Diamonds are a girls best friend’ (lets face it who actually can sing a Gwen Stefani lyric?). . .BUT getting the power-blond-and -loving-it look right without looking like you have a severe a case of premature BetteLynchitis is a REAL challenge  so be warned!

The DressMe philosophy is that all dressing is a sort of performance it just depends what role you choose to play today! As Rue Paul once said (excuse me if I misquote) ‘we are all born naked the rest is drag’. So in this spirit I am posting a list of fashion icons (non comprehesive of course) which may be pillaged from freely. I have divided it into user friendly categories. . .

Happy dressing up !

The Immortals (after whom there is only caricature): Katherine Hepburn, Audrey Hepburn, Jane Russell , Marilyn, Cydd Cerisse, Ava Gardner, Mae West, Grace Kelly, Rita Hayworth, Garbo, Sophia Lauren.

The Contemporary Caricatures: Dita Von Tise, Gwen Stefani, Kirsty Allen, Amy Winehouse, Jenny Éclair, Kelly Osborne.

The Fictional Babes- Closely related to the above only two dimensional: Betty Boop, Jessica Rabbit, Laura Croft, Cruella De Ville, Morticia Adams, Penelope PitStop, (these ladies definitely had a ‘look’ going)

The Hollywood Royalty: Angelina Jolie, Catherine Zeeta-Jones, Jennifer Anniston, Nicole Kidmann, (are you bored yet??)

Les gamines: Jean Seaberg, Edie Sedgewick, Leslie Caron, Selma Blair, Mia Farrow, Annie Hall, Juliette Binouche, Louise Brooks.

The Royals: Princess Marie Chantal of Greece, Queen Margrete II of Denmark, Queen Rania of Jordon, Princess Letizia of Spain

Aristocratic: Trinny Woodhall, Jasmine Guinness, Kristen Scott Thomas, Wallis Simson, Princess Margaret (particularly on Mustique), Margot Ledbetter (suburban version of latter)

Elegance incarnate: Isabella Rosellini, Catherine Deneuve, Billy Holliday, Coco Chanel, Jean Moreau, Jackie O (American equivalent of Royalty)

The Rock Goddess: Marianne Faithful, Anita Pallemberg, Patti Smith, Chrissey Hynde, Janice Joplin. Tina Turner. Blondie, Sade, Dianna Ross, Siouxsie Sioux.

The Golden Girls: The Flake girl, Claudia Schiffer, Maria Sharapova, Meg Ryan, Cameron Dias, Michelle Pheiffer, Elle McPherson, Gwyneth Paltrow

The Power Blonds: Margaret Thatcher, Babs Widsor, Madonna, Honor Blackman (as Pussy Galore), Faye Dannaway (as Bonnie Parker)

The Trend Setters: Kate Moss (now a high street brand and thus cynically cashing in on the her admirers with the kind of tat she would never normally wear in a million years), SJP (made being confused fashionable and let us all relax about not wearing matching shoes and handbags), Jennifer Anniston (remember that hair cut but can you picture the clothes?), Now Alice delal and Alexa Chung.

Growing Older elegantly: Judi Dench, Germaine Greer, Helen Mirren, Angelica Houston, Jane Fonda, Susan Sarandon, Anna Wintour

The Romantics: Lillie Cole, any Land Girl, any pre-Raphaelite painting especially ‘Flaming June’, Jenny Agutter, Helena Bonham Carter, Nicole Kidman before she became a blonde and (see Hollywood royalty above), Kate Winslett

The, Eccentrics: Isabella Blow, Zandra Rhodes, Vivian Westwood, Tilda Swinton, Bjork.

The Refuseniks! Carol Thatcher, Princess Anne, (power to their unselfconscious refusal to conform to anything that remotely resembles fashion)

The ones your daughters will think are cool - probably (and anyone over 35 and not a reader of Grazia will have to Google to know what we are talking about). La Roux, Peaches Geldorf, Sophia Coppola, Kirsten Dunst. Maggie Gyllenhall, Chloe Sevigny, Kate Hudson

The Men’s Men (who ladies may also think are acceptable examples sartorial elegance) Clive Owen, Judge John Deed (AKA Martin Sheen), Giovanni Agnelli , Sean Connery, Jools Holland, George Clooney, Jude Law, John Steed, Jean-Paul Belmondo

Eulogy for the ‘IT BAG’:

Have you ever noticed the hint of panic and irritation that comes over a man when he has to look for something in his wife/girlfriend’s handbag? It is all too much of a mystery- a bit too overwhelming – This form of contemptuous familiarity tends to come with the distance of years - sometimes months-  from ‘the girl they once knew’. Think about it: what woman in her right mind takes a holdall or a rucksack on a first date?

Freud famously wrote ‘What does woman want? – usually the front door keys!

It’s not really that much of a leap from Pandora’s box to a Birkin. This is interesting stuff in terms of psychoanalysis and particularly in terms of gender because bags, like certain other accessories: shoes, hats etc., are signifiers of the ‘mysteries’ (from a masculine point of view) of female sexuality. The myth of Pandora’s box is a popular allegory for the ‘dangers’ of female sexuality desire etc. – obviously it is a tale told from a male perspective.

SO . . . without running the inevitable risk of being too literal about this!. . . a woman with a big bag . . . well . . . she might just be a bit to powerful and dangerous – what in psychoanalytic terms is called phallic. A woman with a nice neat little clutch containing a lipstick a powder puff and enough money for a taxi home is the woman who conforms to your notion of being nice with emphasis on the nice. She is a neat and organised person who is, on the one hand, in control and on the other unthreatening to the opposite sex in a way that a woman with a briefcase containing and even more powerful laptop than theirs might be.

The image of a women as someone in control of herself, as opposed to anyone else, and thus rather unthreatening and also with not too much to hide (as in baggage) is really a pre-feminist model of what a woman is supposed to be, typical perhaps of the 1950’s with its small handbags containing a hanky and a compact and a bit of 'mad money' worn neatly in the crook of the arm.

This fits alongside the corseted and prim fashion revival of the last four or five years, now on the wain thanks to the 80's revival. Apparently ailments of the elbow joint aggravated by the carrying of handbags have gone up tenfold in the last few years. Compared to this image of the stylish bag carrying woman, the woman who lugs around a great tote full of junk or an ugly. unfeminine ruck-sack is either itinerant: not a settler wife and mother, in the sense of hippy dippy freedom from ties and commitments be they sexual, economic, or domestic, or just down right uncontrolled and uncontrollable – ergo male terror when faced with the danger of the cavernous and cluttered handbag.

From a much more straightforward psychological perspective I would say that the junk you weigh yourself down with reflects anxieties about need, possession and coping in the big wide world. Anxieties about separation from home: the unconscious maternal space or more literally your nice semi-detached residence in Fulham. This is obviously also based on fear of being left without something for any and every eventuality as well as laziness about having to decide what you actually do need.

As a final point re. styling: the bigger you are the bigger the bag you can carry off without looking odd. Smaller bags suit small people and, I am afraid, they seem to have related psychological effects on viewers. People all to often assume small women (I mean in the sense both of height and width) are neat feminine and take up less space in the world and big ones are frankly slovenly and/or a bit masculine and threatening and their bags reflect this accessorising malaise. They bash you on escalators. Actually it is likely that the real uberwoman of the future would produce her diamante clutch from inside the giant tote bag or ruck-sack. This would be the ultimate work-to-evening coup de grace, the accessorising equivalent of Superman ripping open his suit in a phone box.

We are interested in your love

We are interested in your love /hate/confused/indifferent relationship with fashion.

We are interested in the tangle of potential emotions that arise when you open your wardrobes or when your partner is standing at the bottom of the stairs checking the time.

We are interested in 'what your mother wore' and in 'those itchy trousers she forced you into' . . .

We are interested in how you abuse or cosset the 'rags' that are the visible components of your public 'youness'.

We are interested in the 'differences' you have with your children, spouses or friends over clothes.

We are interested in the way you compete (or don't) in the tough world of skin deep appearences. . .
and we are absolutely fascinated by the agendas, the vanities, the compulsions and the sheer self indulgent pleasures of 'dressing up' every single day.