Judith Thurman on her lifelong interest in fashion 

Continuing last nights fangirling of The New Yorker contributor, here’s an excellent interview with her on fashion. It is a very engaging podcast and I love the stories and insights she has. 

Well now… looking through Judith Thurman’s archive at The New Yorker and it’s making me emotional, she writes with such feeling, wit, and smarts. And looking at the articles she’s penned is amazing, the article Dressed to Thrill on Alexander McQueen has me tearing up a bit (though to be fair, a lot of things about McQueen make me want to cry). So I think I better head off to bed before I end up a wreck crying over fashion articles at two in the morning. But in the morning I shall head to the library and pick up a collection of her work for the magazine titled Cleopatra’s Nose so I can continue this fan-girling. 

Levis first reached the East Coast in the luggage of rich vacationers who had seen them on dude ranches. Since then, the lust for “authenticity” has proved to be a lucrative contagion. Middle-class kids spend billions to project street cred; supermodels weigh as little as famine victims; designers channel the swagger of nomadic tribesmen; convicts set the standards for body art; the guerilla uniform of aviators, camouflage, and a knitted cap is a perennial favorite for celebrities incognito. Thus do the least oppressed citizens of the world express their imagined solidarity—expensively, in one respect; cheaply, in another—with the most marginal. You invert an hourglass when the sand runs out, and the fashion world inverts the social hierarchy when the trappings of privilege lose their glamour.
The Global Business of Sartorial Slumming by Judith Thurman for The New Yorker 

glintglimmergleam said: you have great taste too, obviously! :) Elizabeth Kolbert and Patricia Marx are my other two favorites — Marx does a lot more style/shopping reviews, but she’s very funny in her culture analysis. Kolbert is just, wow. 

I shall keep an eye out for these two names from now on, always love adding people to my list of favorites. The style issues of the New Yorker are probably my all time favorites. I mean, sometimes I still think about an article from 2006 about Balenciaga, written by Judith Thurman (okay, she and Emily are my favorites), like that article impacted my young mind so much. It was the first place where I saw that articles on fashion could have substance and for that I am forever grateful. 

glintglimmergleam said: I love Emily Nussbaum! I never have time for new TV, but I love the way she writes. (And I do love The Hour) 

Ahh… no way! I think you have to be the first person I’ve talked with around my age who knows who she is…. you have good taste. :) Honestly, I probably should look at the names of more writers for the New Yorker but I can’t be bothered, she’s my favorite. And while I haven’t always watched a lot of the show’s she’s reviewed, it doesn’t matter because her writing is just so good. Her tv criticisms coupled with the movie reviews are what I always flip to in the New Yorker first. And The Hour is sublime… will forever be slightly bitter that it got axed. 

My favorite writer for the New Yorker liked a tweet of mine earlier which now means I’m thumbing through all the recent issues my grandma gave to me on Sunday looking for her articles to re-read and enjoy. Basically what I am saying is if you like insightful and on point articles about television then Emily Nussbaum is your girl (go look for her article on The Hour online…. it has this line in it….”Freddie, played by my spiritual fiancé.” Amen girl, Amen). 

Deep thoughts for tonight: the idea of Drake and Ezra Koenig teaming up to create an album which has a title somehow related to being Jewish. Not sure what it would be called but I know it would be a magical collaboration…. they should get on that asap. 

The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.
— Bertrand Russell (via irisum)

I just like the reworking of the skye boat song for the theme song on Outlander… it is so pretty.


For fuck’s sake.