So, it’s official people: I am currently on my comfy-ass bed in my bedroom at home revelling in the simple, little pleasures of being home for the summer. Though it was certainly in a bittersweet haste that I left Montreal, the city that is quickly becoming my new home, man does it still feel good to be back home. I mean, if my excessive use of the word “home” in 2 short sentences weren’t of any indication, home truly is where the heart is!
Home, home, home (for good measure).
On the subject of simple pleasures, I seriously have been trying to find a way to post about Prada’s spring/summer 2013 menswear collection in a manner that doesn’t make it seem as simple and, I daresay, boring as I’m sure most will rightfully deem it. Though the use of both of those words when describing a fashion collection is often something reserved for the most tawdry of presentations, there truly is just something about how this collection is so unabashedly (you guessed it) simple that, for me, never fails to elicit an urgent need to covet.
Without a doubt, simplicity is simply refreshing.
In that light, I guess it’s the due to the fact that fashion (in its purest sense) has regrettably become a circus for the most childishly maximalist and pretentiously gaudy that Miuccia Prada ingeniously (as ever) decided to present a collection that refreshingly went completely against the current grain exhibitionist 2k13 fashun. Instead, she wisely chose to dress her legion of male models in (wait for it) simple clothes that are as dashing as they are modern, and as understated as they are subversive. Fashion genius at its best, if you ask me.
And, obviously you are seeing as you are reading this post.
As a collection that very discreetly appropriates a number of the key elements in the “Sporty Spice-chic” look that is currently sweeping up the entire fashun-iverse (#Iduntried), Ms. Prada certainly presented her take on this trend in a manner that evokes an undeniable aloofness (ha! get it?) when it comes to willingly partaking in such a fad. It’s almost as if, by judiciously choosing which chief elements to include, the Prada ss13 man is naturally too aloof to allow himself to become yet another individual sucked in by the “trendy” allure of of “all-sporty-everything.”
Now, that’s what I call an aloof hipster.
(come on, now you get it?)
Thus, by simply utilizing the classic cuts of quintessentially sporty tank tops (not to be confused with the bro variety), this collection was able to very subtly create a contemporary variation on the trend that contrarily enough relies on the utmost precision in the curves of the simplest of collars, instead of the instant recognition characteristic of the garishness of huge-ass numbers plastered on one’s back.
There’s just something about that understated beauty that gets me every single time. The very graphic linear quality of this collection was comprised of both the aforementioned curves of t-shirt collars (that certainly seem much easier said than done to get to a perfect T)(#stilltrying), and also the spartan adaptation of the timeless plunge of the classic country-club V-neck sweater. An unpretentious take on the most pompous of status-laden staples (yes, I do realize I did an entire outfit post on said item).
All if all, though not everything in the collection was as splendid as those refreshingly minimal pieces (**cough** the middle sucked major d **cough**), there still is a lot that can be said about a collection as simple and well-executed as this one. This couldn’t be any more true in a time where irritating 90’s-tumblr hipsters rule the Interwebz and streetstyle is still a Goddamn circus.
I mean, come on.
So, though this song isn’t much of a “underground anthem” (whatever the hell that is) or a track that is “too hipster to be mainstream,” it still is a pretty damn fantastic masterpiece. Again, despite the fact that The xx’s sophmore effort pales in comparison to their splendid debut CD, “Try” is without a doubt a gem of a track and a highlight in their entire repertoire. My fondest memory of this song actually happened not too long ago when I saw them live in Montreal. I had just left my going away party for a job that I had just started when I arrived at the outside concert venue in the highest of spirits (drunk with happiness, obvi) ready to dance and sing my night away. And man, did I accomplish that. Though I don’t remember everything from that night, I do clearly remember hearing that unique pseudo-siren sound that marks the beginning of this song wailing on the speakers, in tandem with the steady rain that, instead of hampering my spirits, simply made the night even more magical. For some weird reason, I literally feel like I “woke up” once I realized this song was playing. It was like a moment of clarity that lasted 3 short minutes, but literally felt like an eternity of bliss.
I know it sounds bizarre in writing, but trust me: it was awesome.