Left: an Olsen twin; right: Rachel Zoe.
Fur Vests. Any garment that transforms you into a fashionable Furby (best-case scenario) needs to go extinct. A lot more Wookiee than Wintour, no degree of cold weather excuses wearing these ill-fitting hairy beasts (especially if you’re a celebrity in L.A.). Kick them to the curb, and no matter what you do, don’t feed them after midnight.
Ke$ha : (
Feather Hair Extensions. If Kesha does, thou shalt not. While channeling your inner Pocahontas is oh-so-Urban Outfitters, I don’t think she’d be down with the not-so-fly inhumane feather farming behind it all. To meet high demand, genetically-altered roosters are slaughtered and then tossed away like yesterday’s Kardashian marriage. To add crazy to cruel, sold-out salons have feather-hungry fashion victims soliciting bait shops for fly ties to use as replacements. Do I really need to say fashion and fish bait don’t mix?
Left: disgraced Manhattan writer Carrie Bradshaw; middle: Princess Beatrice; right: some other princess.
Fascinators. Half-hat, half-holiday ornament, these decorative headpieces only offer three looks: potted plant, perplexed peacock, and (worst of all?) forlorn royal wedding groupie. If you want to bag a prince, don’t take your fashion cues from Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters.
Is this how you want to be remembered?
Vajazzling. Turning your nether regions into the sparkling constellation Clitoria is not the answer either, ladies. Men have enough trouble finding their way around a vulva without a clusterfuck of glistening stupidity staring them back in the face. Keep your Swarovski accessories above the neckline; no one wants to go down on the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.
Left: Rumi Neely, fashiontoast.com; middle: Rihanna.
Crop Tops. Are you Kate Moss? Britney Spears circa 1999? If the answer is no, same goes for half-shirts. I won’t support any trend that curbs cheese consumption, and neither should you. (Ed note: whatever, I wore a leather crop top to a literary event and I made friends. While eating cheesecake.)
Left: designs by Limi Feu; middle: shot by Mr. Street Peeper.
Amish Skirts. Somewhere along the line, hip became hip-replacement chic and it-girls turned into really thrifty retired librarians. I’ll blame Pabst poisoning (an unfortunate consequence of beer-like beverage ingestion) for this one. Curves are not conformist. Celebrate them. And not by pairing one of these with a crop top, please.
Left: Prada; right: not Prada.
Sensible Shoes. Oxford pumps are best classified as part of the transgendered grandpa trend. If it doesn’t sound pretty, it’s because they aren’t. And this year, the Prada “Creeper” threatened to make orthotics cool with its five-layer cake of thick foam. Sometimes comfort just isn’t worth it.
Sabrina Maddeaux is a Toronto style blogger and writer who last wrote for Toronto Standard about monkey suits. Follow her on Twitter at @sabzPR.
