Monday, 11 January 2010

Posh Rags

A still from the film "The White Ribbon" (2009)

Given the nature of my first few posts in this space, I am concerned, readers, that you may see me as fashion fickle. And I now wonder whether there is in fact any actual wisdom in these pearls I've been dropping into your laps. But I promise you that there is more running through my mind than bags and posh rags. I assure you I am now finished with my post-holiday shopping frenzy and will not impart any more retail-related nuggets to you, save for those pertaining to my own wonderful shops.

But just in case you were wondering, the last of my shopping spree was spent at a lovely little shop in Islington called Sefton where I purchased a D&G jacket so well cut that I swear I look size 0 in it. I then crossed London to go see the movie the Road with my soon-to-be fourteen year old son and ex-husband Billy at the Electric Cinema, quite the most comfortable cinema in London.

All three of us, having read the novel, were curious to see how such a bleak yet strangely poetic tale would come to life on the big screen. Great acting to my mind, but having seen even better direction and sublime cinematography recently in the movie the White Ribbon (Michael Haneke), the Road, alas, falls somewhat short. But nonetheless it still resonates and left me, exiting the cinema, in a rather thoughtful mood.

We then went for Chinese in Queensway and the whole evening, with the mood now shifted from the post-holiday exubrance to something slightly more somber, was exacerbated by being clamped by one of those nasty private companies--despite the fact that I had dutifully bought a ticket. Inadvertantly, this ticket had been blown upside down when I closed the door (you know the score) and I found myself having to pay the racketeers £200 in cold cash.

Having finally liberated my front right tire, I made my way home trying to put it out of my mind. On the road, I passed by that very same shop where this morning I had found the D&G size-0-wonder-working jacket, that had put me in such spritely spirits earlier in the day. And lying in the doorway of this posh boutique in the freezing cold was a homeless person, which immediately, if even just for that fleeting second, struck me in the most powerful way.

And then it made thoughts return that evening, which actually may recur to anyone with a conscience who has the luxury to work in a creative field. Sure, fashion cannot save lives, but if you think hard enough about it, perhaps it can. Just this week, Lady Gaga has said that fashion actually did save her life. And the uproar surrounding H&M's careless dumping of unsold garments whilst the homeless, like the man I saw, continue to sleep outside the shops in the cold, proves that fashion really can affect lives, in both a negative and a positive way.

So I got to thinking about how I, as a jewellery designer, fit in into this whole moral conundrum. And the conclusion I arrived to was this: jewellery can bring joy. And by spreading a little joy, we make the world a slightly better place. It's as simple as that.

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