Boston has never been known as a particularly fashionable city. It is associated with conservative dress and preppiness, but the Cape and Nantucket can always out-madras and boat shoe Boston, stripping the city of any unique identity. The overwhelming number of colleges has created a motley crew in Boston of varying styles, but in true starter-city fashion, we are always in the shadows of the glamour of New York, the glitz of LA and the sexiness of Miami.
This past summer,when I was living in New York City, I ran into my favorite fashion photographer, Scott Schuman in my Greenwich Village neighborhood. Schuman is a street style photographer and captures the looks of the most stylish people in the world as they live their lives in New York, Milan, Paris and Buenos Aires.
While chatting with Schuman as he took my roommates and my photos for a Gap denim campaign (I got very lucky-right place, right time) he asked if there was any reason he should come to Boston to shoot. We tried to come up with a yes, but there seemed to be no reason to travel to Boston to find people in North Face coats and Longchamp bags. I do not intend to slam my dear starter city, but if three proud Bostonians could not come up with a sound reason to capture the style of Boston, I don’t know who else can…
However, there are plenty of stylish and unique individuals roaming around Charles Street and brunching in the South End. How can we establish Boston as a fashionable city with its own attitude and iconic look? Must we embrace the classic WASPy cliche of New England to own a slice of the fashion (low-fat) pie?
My mom was one of five sisters growing up. My Nana, a still inappropriate and fabulous woman, witnessed her fair share of broken hearts and tears of boys. Her response every time a boy rejected one of her daughters, “Oh! He’s gay!” As if for a man to reject one of her girls, he had to be batting for the other team.
I kind of like this philosophy. We could live in the delusion that if a man likes women he has to like me!
Ironically, year’s later it was revealed that my mom’s high school crush is gay.
Mother’s always right.
I have recently been reflecting upon a bad behavior that has plagued me since fall of 2008 and the introduction of late night in the dining hall and the far too convenient location of Campus Convenience. I do not believe that there is ever a time post-college (or in the real world as we like to call it) that eating $40 worth of convenience store crap or multiple trays of fried everything in a single setting is acceptable.
This binge occurs in many states, after a long night out, after a long night in, after a marathon of on-demand with roommates; the range of circumstance knows no limits. We live a nocturnal existence and are in need of fuel in those wee hours of the morning, only these meals lack a conscience and often consciousness.
Do you think you can stop the fourth meal post-grad?
When Boston turns into a jilted ex out for revenge come late November the worst reaction is to allow the blasphemous weather to permanently glue Uggs to your feet. The ladies who are stylish, or vain enough to brave the elements may look better than their duck boot donning counterparts when out at night, but it is a catch 22. The Boston fashionista will strap on stilettos in a blizzard, but the effect is short lived, as the first step onto the icy embankments ruins the intended grace.
I have ruined three pairs of heels this winter alone from tossing them in a soggy pile after trotting through salty masses of snow and ice skating to cabs. My girlfriends and I have taken to cropping every photograph from the ankles down as the shoes that were once prized possessions have become graying messes. This particularly awful winter has further postponed any idea of saving up for louboutins…watching the red soles wear away would be a tragedy.
We stumble, slip, hang onto our friends for support and ultimately appear far more inebriated had we gone a more practical route, but damn our legs look good.
“Men are supposed to plant their seed inside a womens head.”
(protecting identity) response when told that I was writing a blog about relationships
I don’t know what this means, but I kind of like it. He has managed to sexualize the psyche. It’s a bit genius.
I posted this to negate accusations of any feminist crusade some (the quoted included) the may think this blog stands for. I am not a feminist in the traditional sense. Chivalry is not dead. Some things are better done by one sex or the other and there is something to be said about the Mad Men lifestyle, despite its often offensive nature. I appreciate the natural difference between men and women and the hilarity that we even attempt to analyze one another.
I couldn’t resist. Excuse the offensive video.
He will want to see his video because it’s hilarious and adorable, but when it ends, casually say, “So, when do you think you’ll be ready?”
He will be confused and you will look like a psycho for a moment, but it will be worth it.