Ms. Wu’s Neighborhood

As one who is quite particular about clothing, I have wondered as of late whether the resurgence of 80’s-styled fashion is a return of the nostalgic that harks back to an era that exuded power, money, and sex when the present reality and state of economy are quite the opposite. One can say that it is a rather escapist reaction from the fashion world, but then again, one can also say that it is rather dull and uninventive to steal a style so unashamedly without reappropriation, innovation, or improvisation.
Ah, tis sad but true. I cannot bring myself to don clothing that I believe to be the most unflattering (and atrocious!) to exist in the history of garment. In the past unseasonably warm weekends, I have perused many shops in Soho and East Village with a glimmer of hope, that perhaps, designers have moved on from their obsession with recapturing the lost look of the suburbia preadolescent masturbating in a wood-panelled basement room and onto something different, something more Ole! Voila! Voom voom! Ta da! La la! Personally I prefer to wear my traditional Chinese dresses, qipao, when I return home after a long day of being the Woman in Town. Nothing pleases me more than the feel of the finest silk from China caressing against my body, and the way the dress forces my body to shimmy, wiggle, and dance in all its satin glory!
In that sense Mr. Rogers and I share the common love of donning our beloved clothing when we return to our respective abodes. While he puts on his little argyle sweaters, I put on my silver chrysthaneum flowered qipao. While he slips on a pair of plaid house shoes, I place my dainty feet into Flower Madam high heels embroidered by most luscious and creamy pearls of the orient. And while this Mr. Rogers talks to his imaginary friends, Ms. Wu is been pampered and fed grapes to (without the skin!) by her entourage of young men. I do like a good wandering around the home in such a get-up. At times I play music from my Shanghai youth as I place a perfuming lotus flower behind my ear, so intoxicating, so delicious, sooo MOI. Such is the life for moi, and such is the fashion for moi.
Until next time, I bid you zai-jian,
Ms. Wu