OlilO Fashion 奧尼露男女服裝
你的位置：首頁 >> Fashion Trends >> fashion jeans victim diary

fashion jeans victim diary
 

　　
　　I think I may have finally broken my designer jeans addiction.
　　I was guilted into it when I returned with the same pair of Sevens to Irene, the seamstress all the Central boutiques know by name.
　　She's the savvy proprietoress of Mitty Fashion, a tiny hole of an upstairs shop with a gaggle of staff and a line of loyal customers.
　　Irene has a sharp eye and a sharp tongue, especially if you are Cantonese. She stands, pincushion in hand, and says "If you have fat thighs like that, I highly recommend that you not shorten this skirt....
　　want to fill out that cheongsam Well, let me get out the fake breast pads..."
　　You go for the brutal advise as much as for the tailoring.
　　My Sevens, I told her, had stretched out even more and were gaping at the back, pulling down to my hips and showing off the top of my panties when I am far too old for that.
　　The last time, Irene had already cut so much fabric out that the label on the inside of the waistband that used to say "for all mankind" now just read "..nkind" But there was still minor diaper-butt, which I found unacceptable. (For more on the term "diaper butt," read
　　http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/03/26/070326fa_fact_wilkinson "Do you see me wearing low-slung stretch jeans " she asked.
　　"No."
　　"That's because my jeans don't hang off my protruding hip bones like they're a clothes hanger."
　　"Right."
　　"Do YOUR fleshless hips protrude out of your body "
　　"No."
　　"Then there is nothing I can do." She pointed out what we in English would call muffin top. There is no such cute name for it in Cantonese. It's just "the fat that hangs out of the top of the waistband." That's what I get for buying jeans cut for tall, skinny people.
　　I also had a pair of cheap-o Giordano trousers I needed hemming. "These are good," she approved. "One tenth the price. Linen. Don't stretch." Those she altered. The jeans she refused on aesthetic, possibly moral, grounds.
　　The time before that, I'd brought in a pair of Rogans that ripped right along the left buttock right before a rather important appointment. (I was trying for the dress-casual, jeans-with-heels-and-jacket thing to impress someone. But that's a different story.)
　　"I know these," she said, fingering the rip. "These don't come cheap. "Designer jeans always break. It's that combination of being too tight and denim that's been pre-washed so much. That's what makes them so flattering, but they don't last."
　　After me was an older Hong Kong woman getting a Chinese summer dress done. Her outfit was so pretty and classic, and mine so pretentious and broken, I felt like a foolish teenaged fashion victim.
　　"Oh, my son also buys those broken fashion jeans," she said. "He flies to some special shop in San Francisco. They cost 300 U.S. dollars, then they break."
　　"Maybe he has a girlfriend to impress," Irene said.
　　"I said, HE FLIES TO SAN FRANCISCO TO BUY DESIGNER JEANS."
　　Irene said nothing, charged me HK $50 and told me to come back in a week.
　　Unlike those rich skinny teens running around Hong Kong in their Evisu's, I discovered designer jeans rather late in life, 31 to be exact, when I was suffering from a stress attack last year and did an impulse buy at Lane Crawford -- a pair of skinny black Edens. (Rationale: What the point of working late every night if I can't splurge )
　　These Edens were, hands down, the skinniest-looking of all. The soft, body-hugging, matte-black fabric, the perfect line down the leg -- it all came together to create an optical illusion of thinness.
　　That is, as long as I didn't move my legs. They were so low, and the waist has expanded so much (from the Spandex or Lycra or whatever) that I thought they would fall off as I walked. So I kept hitching them up (very sexy) by the little belt loops until they actually did fall off. (The belt loops, not the jeans).
　　The funny thing is that I took these jeans on the least fashionable trip-- to visit a friend at an NHS hospital in a small English city. For a brief moment, all the expense and hitching was worth it when he saw me and said, "Joycey! You're thin as a stick!"
　　But then he watched me tugging at them inelegantly and said, "God, you better throw those jeans away. They're a disaster. I can see your knickers."
　　This is fashion advice from a guy -- a non-gay guy -- who had been in hospital for months. And he was right. They were a disaster. One belt loop dangled from a thread. Another had disappeared entirely, leaving a small hole in the side. The now-expanded waist had fallen so low that the fabric bunched around my hips. That caused the pockets (which were impractically shallow, because of the low rise) to sometimes turn themselves inside out.
　　And that how my month-old Eden's ended up in a rubbish bin in a UK hospital ward. From now on, I'm going to Giordano.
　　

本文轉載自：http://joycelau1.spaces.live.com/Blog/cns!DFE95C9AB5B43908!253.entry live.com

作者： 莫 名   來源： 江 湖