Mind the Gap

This is why I shall never be a fashion editor; I get too involved in grocery shopping or Greatest American Dog, and I neglect the constituents and forget what I wanted to say, which is



Usually the Teen Vogue spreads with celebrity spawn make my piss boil for two very specific reasons. First, 12 year olds really have no idea who Barry Levinson or Barishnykov (except for a certain set of 12 year olds, and then they don't care about his weird-faced daugter) are, and secondly, showing 12 year olds wearing "oh, just a Chloe lace mini with Wolford tights and this 30 year old Rolling Stones t shirt that my godmother Jane Birkin gave me, a ha ha!" is demonstrating a knowledge too dear for girls who should be out in the garden with the fairies. And celebrates the very materialism that magazines like that purport to destroy.

But when I was a little one, and chanced upon the editorial of Carine Roitfeld's chubby lovely daughter Julia, I was smitten. They (Carine at least and with a mother like that you practically have no choice in being stylish and beautiful) embody the sexy, eye-baggy gothic elan that we all work so hard to achieve. And now in the Gap's cropped-sleeve peacoat (cropped sleeve! PEACOAT!), we have no choice but to follow, zombie-like, to the mall this fall.