START HORDING
NOW : Where to get what you need.
Everyone's got a prediction about what will happen when the
clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, 1999. But no one's
given much thought to what we'll be wearing. Most of us are
still content to suit up at the Gap. Will the future be colored
khaki?
Perhaps, but you can bet that it won't be drab. Though
the populace isn't about to start dressing like the Mylar-clad
Milla Jovovich in The Fifth Element, the monumental
dawn of 3M is surely cause for a revolutionary new look.
That look will likely be utilitarian. It's military-inspired,
street-tough and aerodynamic but feminine all the while.
It's more practical than handsome, but this new style--utility
chic --unites function with fashion.
Utility chic made its debut at designer shows last fall
and began appearing in stores early this year. Apparently
the people at Prada, Miu-Miu, Ralph Lauren, Helmut Lang,
Michael Kors, Dolce & Gabanna and Calvin Klein couldn't
keep their hands off anything that fastens--zippers, snaps,
strings, Velcro. In affixing closures to unexpected places
and borrowing shapes from athletic equipment, designers
rocketed sportswear to new haute couture heights.
Teva-like sandals are given a fat rubber heel. Armbands
and kneepads double as purses. Apron-style vests (with buckled
straps and mesh pockets) don't have a kernel of semblance
to your granny's housecoat. Pants that convert to shorts
do so much more gracefully than those dorky camping standbys.
Even Chanel, with its signature fussy accessories, has introduced
a sleek pocketbook molded to fit the body.
This phenomenon isn't just taking place on the pages of
magazines. Take a trip to Urban Outfitters or Pokerface:
Drawstrings cinch hemlines, necklines and sleeves. Sexy
holster bags (designed to ride low on the hip) expose fanny
packs for the frumpy carryalls that they are. Clever details
on jackets, shoes and skirts prove Velcro's fierce staying
power. What's most remarkable about all these bells and
whistles is their subtlety. The features are (surprise)
functional and attractive, not extraneous.
Why? Stacey Kozawa, fashion coordinator for Nordstrom's
Oregon stores, says this: "Everyone's lives have gotten
pretty busy. We want things that are a little bit more casual--anything
to make our lives easier. If it's functional, it's a good
thing." The new torso-hugging sacks, reversible dresses
and roll-up shirts clearly fit the bill.
Initially, it may seem surprising that P-town is buying
into a style that could easily be dismissed as faux active
wear. After all, Portlanders--save teens and alphabet district
denizens--largely reject fads and trends, preferring running
clothes to runway couture. Weather dictates that we stay
concealed in rain gear for three out of four seasons, so
historically not much thought has gone into what's worn
underneath.
But utility chic's whole gig is practicality, and that's
something Rose City citizens can relate to. We're
already well acquainted with technical fabrics and know
all about looking cool on bikes. And as any gearhead will
testify, function justifies cost: It's acceptable to buy
designer shoes if they have ballistic rubber soles that
carry you through First Thursday with nary a blister. Manolo
Blahnik stilettos, on the other hand, are pure frivolity
and are likely to be scoffed at on this town's puddled streets.
Utilitarian clothing, of course, is nothing new: Blue jeans
are the original work pant; Carharts are the choice dungarees
of this decade. Jumpsuits and overalls--some of the most
sturdy, and often ugly, garments ever designed--have, from
time to time, woven themselves into the fabric of ready-to-wear.
But instead of being styled to hold a hammer and withstand
extreme wear and tear, the new functional threads, tailored
for the next millennium, anticipate that urban-dwellers
(which we'll all be someday) will need their hands free
to navigate a jumble of telecommunication devices and increasingly
dense streets. In August, Levi's will introduce a jean jacket
with pouches specifically shaped to hold a discman and cell
phone, with deconstructed seams to house headphone wires
and phone antenna.
Whether we'll ever need to quick-change slacks into shorts
because global warming is so bad or stow our money (or weapons)
in armbands, utility in fashion signifies signs of intelligent
life in an industry that is so often accused of being frivolous
and vapid. In our stride-right clothes equipped with pockets,
padding and quick-release devices, we will be well prepared
to face whatever the murky, technological future throws
our way. With style.
Start
Hoarding Now
Where
to Get What You Need
Bags
Since Prada is scarce in Portland and painfully
expensive besides (handbags start at $400 at Saks Fifth
Avenue), Yak Pak is the answer to body-clinging bags. The
Brooklyn company that was an early pioneer of mini backpacks
(you laugh now, but you loved them three years ago) now
constructs unusually styled satchels and totes for DJ equipment.
The newest offerings include a holster hip bag and an apron-like
vest (see below). Diesel and the House of Custard make similar
sacks. Prices range from $20-$60 at Urban Outfitters, 2320
NW Westover Road,
248-0020.
Shoes
This year's crop of aerodynamic shoes delivers
us from chunky heels. BCBG crafts supremely comfortable
footwear that will keep you out on the town long after ladies
in 4-inchers have retired. The Evita loafer and Express
slip-on, both in black, are an investment at $109 each (BCBG,
700 SW 5th Ave., 227-2224). Nordstrom carries a sassy selection
of sandals by Kenneth Cole, Charles Jourdan and David Aaron;
look for decent copies at Cathy Jean, Nine West and discount
emporiums.
Everything
Pokerface is a veritable warehouse of
utilitarian fashions. The store has got it all--bags, shoes,
paper dresses, weatherproof skirts and boots with detachable
pockets. And it's not just for chicks; check out Reactor's
painter pants for men, featuring zip-off legs and drawstrings
at the waist and ankles, $70. All the apparel on these pages
is available at Pokerface, 128 SW 3rd Ave., 294-0445. Pictured
at far left on the page opposite is a Living Doll pullover,
$58, and skirt by Label, $106.
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Willamette Week | originally
published June 16, 1999
|
