Le freak, c’est chic

I love this Paris fashion article in August’s Harper’s Bazaar (there’s a publication you will rarely see me discussing here) in which Simpsons animator Julius Preite has created a Paris fashion show article with our favourite yellow family. Genuis and somehow it puts me in mind of the episode where Homer buys the New Yorker for Richard Avedon’s photographs of Lenny.

Normally the overblown marketing exercise which accompanies major movie releases annoy the smeg out of me, but so far the Simpsons one has been entertaining and clever, from turning Seven Elevens in the US into Kwik-e-Marts to a faux chalk carved Homer next to the Cerne Abbas giant and now this. Gives an idea just how deeply embedded into global culture the Simpsons has become that it crosses so many boundaries of class and style. Fashionista has the pics (link via Comics212)


Kate Moss launches a range of clothes and label zombies queue up to buy them, regardless of the fact that she has bugger all to do with designing or creating them, her name is purely a badge to stick on the clothes to lure the gullible in. They all know this, but it’s Kate Moss, so they all rush out to buy them so they too can resemble an intolerably skinny crack whore – yeah, that’s a cool, individual look… Then Lily Allen launches a clothes range. Lily Allen?!?!? I like Lily’s music, but is has she been around long enough to be famous enough to be behind a fashion range?!?! And again, who gives a smeg about buying something just because some money grubbing celeb sold out for some extra moolah? The cult of celeb is eroding 21st century civilisation and seems to devour many people’s ability to function as individuals, turning them into mind-numbed sheep following directions.

Still, nothing new there, really – a glance at history shows many truly stupid people will follow any trend from the famous rather than make decisions themselves, even down to medical procedures (anesthetic wasn’t trusted until Queen Victoria used it, then suddenly it was okay; cremation was mistrusted by god-fearing Victorians until nobility had used it). Why do so many folks so blindly follow trends set by the famous? Copy David Beckham’s hair, wear clothes because some drug-fueled model sticks her name on them (shouldn’t Moss be selling hankerchiefs for wiping coke off noses???) and in the process look like a million other idiots while shoving more of your small monies into the groaningly huge bank accounts of celebs. I do despair of people sometimes.