Clothing Vs Fashion

I was at a dinner party recently (how grown up am I?) and a dear friend’s father was interrogating me about why I love clothes so much. I explained to him that my sartorial obsession is based more on an appreciation of fashion than of clothes. “Fashion,” I explained, trying not to sound like a dickhead “is art. Clothes are simply a means of covering your rude bits.”

“So you’re a fashionista, then?” he enquired, while offering me another helping of dessert. 

“HELL NO!” I shouted, while choking on my third piece of cake.

I hope you are enjoying this dramatic reenactment. If it helps, picture me as a young Mia Farrow*, and my friend’s Dad as Alec Baldwin. *I look nothing like Mia Farrow, young or otherwise.

Anyway, this conversation with Fake Alec Baldwin, combined with my many feelings about the minimal amount of actual fashion at the Mercedes Benz Fashion Festival, got me thinking about the differences between ‘fashion’ and ‘clothing’.  Clearly I have very deep and intellectual thoughts. Sometimes I wonder why Mensa hasn’t come a-knocking on my door yet. 

I believe fashion is a concept, a movement, but one that is ever evolving, never static. It is the fine art of decorating and flattering the human form, with bodies as its canvas and fabrics as its paint. It is about pushing the boundaries of style while also honouring the traditions of the masters. It is less about practicality and more about stylistic and/or artistic expression. Clothing, on the other hand, is grounded in necessity. It is the practical interpretation of fashion for the masses. Fashion isVogue; Clothing is Shop Til You Drop. Fashion is Proenza; Clothing is Portmans. Fashion is made by leaders; Clothing by followers. I could talk in clichés and make snobby comparisons all day, but you get the picture. I hope. 

There are obviously strong economic implications here but that is inescapable. Art is expensive. So is fashion. But style is another thing altogether, and the most important thing at that. Money can buy you Prada but it can’t tell you how to wear it. Think of all the men and women you see at fancy shopping centres in fancy neighbourhoods draped in Dior and dripping with diamonds who look like they got hit with an ugly stick covered in gold. And then think about how awesome your mother/grandmother/uncle/brother/bestie always looks without spending a month’s pay on one shirt.