Fashion as a whole is a farce, completely. The people behind it are perverted, the styles are created by freaked out people, just natural weirdos. I know this because I worked with all those people while I was modeling.
We are talking about mutated women, the result of cruel genetic experiments performed by fashion designers so lacking in any sense of human decency that they think nothing of putting their initials on your eyeglass lenses. The leading cause of death among fashion models is falling through street grates. If a normal woman puts on clothing designed for these unfortunate people, she is quite naturally going to look like Revenge of the Pork Person.
Wearing a scrap of colored cloth around your neck, even though it serves no useful purpose, but which answers to the name of "tie."
I saw a dog wearing a sweater and I thought that looked ridiculous 'cause dogs don't have arms. If you're going to put clothes on the dog, you should put two pairs of pants on it.
The whole thing of clothes is insane. You can spend a dollar on a jacket in a thrift store. And you can spend a thousand dollars on a jacket in a shop. And if you saw those two jackets walking down the street, you probably wouldn't know which was which.
The emancipation of today displays itself mainly in cigarettes and shorts... painted lips and nails, and the return of trailing skirts and other absurdities of dress which betoken the slave-woman's intelligent companionship.
What I don't understand is these people who go on the street wearing riding clothes, and they have never been on a horse. They ought to have their heads examined, really. It's a joke. But, let's face it, we live in a fantasy world.
Do you know what kills me? The cropped hats. The beanies that are rolled up past your ears, in the summer as well! There's no function to it.
For anyone of a rational disposition, fashion is often nearly impossible to fathom. Throughout many periods of history – perhaps most – it can seem as if the whole impulse of fashion has been to look maximally ridiculous. If one could be maximally uncomfortable as well, the triumph was all the greater.
I love to make fun of fashion because it is just so silly.
In the northern hemisphere, always dressing according to the season: bare arms in spring (however cold it is) and woolen jacket in winter (however hot it is).
Men in high heels? That's a prosthesis. But I sympathise. Women have these giant heels. They get taller and taller. The men need help. But a man in heels is ridiculous.
Young people, however, tend to ignore the customs of their elders. Adolescent rebellion has been responsible for all manner of absurd costumes. The more ridiculous a certain fashion is, the more adolescents will cling to it.
