LOOK BOOK: Fashionably Fit

Among the highest grossing celebrities and performers, fashion and fitness share an unbreakable bond from the streets of London to the Hollywood Hills.


Madge, Incognito


Spice Girl Mel B., Pretty in Pink




Britney, Hit me Bally one more time!


Fergie, Just workin' on her fitness


Madonna and Gwyneth, Double Trouble


Jessica Biel, Who let the dogs out?


Lauren Conrad and BFF Lo Bosworth, Hills' Hotties

LANDMARK LOOKS: Shaffer Shopping

Holiday Art Sale
Shaffer Art Building
December 3, 4, &5

TRIPLE THREAT: It's Britney BITCH!

Britney Spears celebrates birthday #27, the rock star year today (December 2) along with the release of her album Circus. The anticipated `come-back' album, as declared by her longtime manager Larry Rudolph, features tracks such as “Womanizer” and “Circus.” Leaving the highs and lows of the past three years behind her, Britney looks better than ever. Ready to rock it one more time, Britney delivers her three alter-egos in the video “Womanizer” and provides a celluloid flipbook of iconic female style.

Donning a cropped wig and librarian spectacles, Britney delivers sexy to the cubicle set. She keeps it classic with red lipstick and a high-waist pencil skirt. A metallic belt adds just the right rock-star accessory. Dressed in a black-and-white, striped blouse, Britney's ensemble alludes to inmate attire and foreshadows her second persona.



Guilty on all counts, a red head of hair transforms Britney into a femme fatale. She takes on a bad girl rep, wearing all black leather, a vest, and pants. A clean white collar brings a little sophistication to the performance (don't let that Louisiana upbringing fool you). Her most noticeable adornments: a sleeve of tattoos and heavy black eye liner. As performed with a cherry, this Britney bites.



Finally, Brit emerges incognito as a town-car driver. Decked out in men's wear, Britney decides on a suit jacket as a dress and accessorizes with a matching hat and aviators. Spike heels accentuate her legs. In the closing scene, The Womanizer with “the swagger of a champion” succumbs to Britney, and the fab four — Miss Spears and her three look-a-likes — unite. A better “girls rule, boys drool” moment does not exist.



Now, would the real Britney Spears please stand up, please stand up.

EXPERIENCE: The Day the Accessory Died

Flashback to the last week of August: School commences, and Queen Bee Karen Bakke, associate professor and coordinator of the fashion design department, offers an introduction to her accessories class. About 30 females, myself included, fill up her classroom on the third floor of Shaffer. We brainstorm and ponder a question: What is an accessory?

The dictionary defines an accessory as “an object or device not essential in itself but adding to the beauty, convenience, or effectiveness of something else.” For some, Coach sunglasses and Tiffany charms classify as favorite accessories. Other people find themselves in shoe fetishes and endless handbag collections. I found and lost my ultimate accessory on my trek home to Medway, Mass. for Thanksgiving.

This past Monday, I decelerated onto the Herkimer-Little Falls rest area off of I-90. The brakes locked, the shift froze, the wheel failed to complete a full circle. Halt. A sign reads: History Happened Here. With 165,738 miles on the odometer, the family heirloom kicked it as my 1991 Volvo 240 experienced Rigamortis.

As I sat in my dead car, I remembered all the times my mother loaded the car with baskets of my shoes for the annual road trip to Syracuse, the times I applied my make-up in the rear view mirror while driving to work, the times my sister changed into her gym clothes in the backseat, and at that moment I realized how much my car represented an extension of my identity. Just like a good accessory. After all, our culture provides examples every day that cars exist as the ultimate accessory (think of Hollywood stars stepping out of Prius sedans at the Academy Awards or rappers rolling up to the club in Escalades with spinning rims).

When Jim the highway mechanic ushered my automobile onto the tow truck, I recognized my boxy sedan as classic, timeless, a collector's item. Cream in color, it matched every outfit worn since I began driving at age 16. The car's adaptability to the evolution of fashion proved its greatest feat. As a tribute to my love lost, a car irreplaceable, I suggest the Top Five Fads in Fashion during its lifetime.

5. Pleather and Platforms (circa Spice Girls)

4. Uggs

3. Nirvana Grunge: the androgynous flannel shirt

2. The scrunchy

1. “I’m coming out”: exposing the belly button through piercings, low-rise pants, and cut-off tanks

RIP VOLVO 1991-2008

OBSESSION: Queen of the Jungle Confessions

The dreams of children live and grow without real-world constraints: When I grow up I'm going to be a doctor. Fireman, Actress, Lawyer—you get the drift. As a young girl, my aspirations differed greatly from my playground companions, who dreamed of being veterinarians, teachers, musicians. My main goal in life: to become synonymous with the image of the leopard.

I don't remember what motivated me to seek out all things leopard. I just remember great moments of leopard influence.

1991, age 3: On my first trip to the cinema, I see 101 Dalmatians. I run up to the screen to touch Cruella DeVil.

1994, age 6: With my grandmother, I fall asleep watching The Nanny every week. In my mind, Fran Drescher's character Miss Fine (and her preference for all things animal print) epitomized my adult aspirations.

1996, age 7: I purchase my first leopard-print ensemble at the Children's Place: a leopard dress with a black-vinyl jacket. My life changed forever.

Ever since the second grade, I incorporated some form of the feline into my outfits. The cheetah and the tiger make cameos, but the leopard dominates my wardrobe. Confronting the wild, I challenge the conventionality of Hollister and Polo with my courageous fashion statements — leopard overalls, leopard pants, leopard skirts. I know these symbols of the primitive and the exotic walk a thin line between class and promiscuity, and I guard that line when I assemble my attire each day.

But regardless of my daily fashion decisions, I remain contemporary, current. Each season, animal print reappears on the runway. From Dolce and Gabanna advertisements in Vogue to synthetic tunics at Forever 21, spots possess a stronghold on the fashion industry and an appeal that transcends age limits. Adolescent girls and businesswomen alike flirt with my prized pet. However, nothing threatens my relationship with the animal. We share a secret understanding, a special bond. I like to think I did not choose the leopard. The leopard chose me.

A-LIST: Amazing Masters and Muses

As a designer, I know how the power of a person that inspires you to create. Friend, fellow creator, beauty, and brain, junior advertising design major Anya Dabroski filled that role for me and made me curious about the world's more famous inspiration-creation connections. Consider my list of the Top Seven Masters and Muses of all time:

7. Karl Lagerfeld and Claudia Schiffer

6. Jean Paul Gaultier and Madonna

5. Gianni Versace and sister Donatella

4. Paul Poiret and wife Denise

3. Ann Demeulemeester and Patti Smith

2. Coco Chanel and Coco Chanel

1. Christian Dior and Mitzah Bricard

TRIPLE THREAT: Plaid Persistence

Built around a theme of recycled couture, last week's Jet Black Fashion Show features the work of Syracuse University fashion-design students, who utilized a range of materials from vintage furs to unconventional textiles such as straw upholstery. Glitz and glam rang as staple elements of the exaggerated designs, but the use of plaid and old men's shirts dominated the runway.





Designer Courtney Zapor paid homage to the Catholic school girl with a belted asymmetric dress design. Zapor's design featured navy plaid wool accented by a gathered white dress shirt across the bust. A pocket detail on a fairly exposed bum added an edge as model Annie Boardman held a dramatic stance evoking the crucifix. Zapor enjoys taking risks (besides the exposed bum, she styled the ensemble with rosary beads).

Designer Asli Whitham took her inspiration from Old Hollywood glamour with the perfect cocktail dress modeled by Karina Mariotti (and reminiscent of Ava Gardner in the 1930s), which featured a detachable fur stole juxtaposed on plaid taffeta. Perhaps a historical analysis of how the Great Depression limited fashion choices of the female sphere, Whitman makes the best out of her recycled fabrics, disguising the original functions of her materials.

In an over-the-top creation of men's shirts, designer Kaitlyn Carpenter reinterpreted Seattle grunge circa 1991. Layering a mass volume of multi-color plaids, Carpenter suggested boho femininity in her free-flowing design worn by Elizabeth Baker. A touch of black leather escalated the pretty-in-punk feel. Perhaps it's time to welcome the next generation of Riot Grrrl on to the scene.

STREET STYLE: Men's Vogue

First-year performing arts major Nick Deyo strikes a pose and captures the essence of men’s high fashion while enjoying lunch on the Quad. A resident of London, England, Nick knows rainy days. He appreciates the rarity of sun in Salt City, making a point to dress to impress. His ensemble reflects taste and luxury through his tail coat and collared dress shirt. Nick incorporates his own quirks with red socks. Note: the faux-hawk.

Favorite item he's wearing: His Dior dress shoes. “I got them in Paris with my mom,” he reminisces, adding “the leather is fantastic!”

Fashion Icon: AJ Ellis

Trend he loves to hate: “This whole bitch craze—Oh, you mean fashion? I could do without leggings” he declares.

REVIEW: Fabulous Gloom

For anyone who pines for Halloween 365 days of the year, hope lies in the fabulous gloom of the Museum at Fashion Institute of Technology's current special exhibition, Gothic: Dark Glamour. A look into contemporary couture's interpretation of the ancient theme of darkness, curator and fashion historian Valerie Steele, Ph.D., presents an avant-garde collection with an edge.

Located in the basement of the museum (Fashion Avenue at 27^th Street), the exhibit's foyer introduces the themes of luxury and excess showcased in the main gallery. Human skulls and bats fill a cabinet of curiosities. Victorian mourning jewelry, among other vulcanite and silver forms of birds and talons from the 1860s, juxtapose a tattooed top hat from 2007. Behind a glass barrier, a coffin suffocates a mannequin dressed in a velvet gown from the end of the 20^th century. No shoes adorn her feet. She wears minimal make-up.

Deeper inside the show, Gothic takes on a new twist with every fallen brick and shattered glass of its destructive demeanor. Gothic defines itself through the supernatural, death, sex, time, and transcendence. Black dominates the space, but every touch of red tastes like blood. With its panniers protruding, a Christian Dior dress by John Galliano, constructed from red-coated silk and black ink, commands the space. Haunting faces emerge from a screened wall paneling. A prosthetic corset by Alexander McQueen suggests the costumed armor worn by Edward Scissorhands.

An overarching sense of claustrophobia prompts one to shift stances. Scary. The floor shakes, as the subway surges below the surface. Cemetery gates encircle an elevated platform that features fashions by Rodarte and Hussain Chalayan. Black-velvet skulls and cross bones embellish a red mesh top by Jean Paul Gaultier. Other may wish to see no evil, but what fun (and fashion) is there in that.

Free of charge to anyone with a student ID, the exhibition continues until February 21, 2009. For more information, go to www.fitnyc.edu/museum

Q & A: Go-To Fashion Guru

Every morning, I rely on meeting retail major AJ Ellis for an unofficial date at 7:35 a.m. in Haven Dining Hall. A recognizable face on campus, people know AJ by his signature bow ties and his rumored relation to Karl Lagerfeld (AJ expresses no comment on the latter). Immersed in our busy schedules, me with my inundation of studio electives and him with the second advertising campaign of the organization in which he founded, www.stitchsociety.blogspot.com , we early-risers find consistency in our egg white omelets and fashion-world updates. With his iPOD touch always on hand and forever connected to the internet, AJ provides visuals from recent runway shows. We eat. We chat. We race to our 8 a.m. classes.

On this Monday morning, I see that my friend, incognito with shades and dressed in all black attire, beat me to our usual spot (third booth from the door). I grin and approach him. On hearing the sound of heels, he looks up. I plop down a garment bag filled with my recycled project for draping, a coat constructed with a vintage wool blanket and wicker upholstery. We pick up right where we left off.

SJA: So what inspired this outfit?

AJE: It's Anna Wintour's birthday. I am not so much inspired by things, as I am by people.
He fails to remove his sunglasses. I order my omelet and return. Before taking my first bite, I unzip the garment bag and display my current creation.

SJA: I'm going to need your criticism. Tell me what it needs.
After a moment of introspection, followed by speed sketching in his marketing notebook, he offers me feedback, using his drawing as a reference.

AJE: Well, you have not sacrificed your design integrity. Stop concerning yourself with the design. Trust your vision. The question is styling. I see some gold pumps, some bangles, maybe a couple of brooches connected by a chain. Oh, light the cigarette, get some smoke burning. A hat. Heyyyyy.

SJA: Would this be considered couture?

AJE (suddenly, very serious): There are less than 20 houses considered couture. Your name would have to be legalized by the French government. And you are required to employ an atelier of at least 25. The entire garment has to be hand sewn. You would have to use all natural fabrics.
SJA (interruptting): These are all natural fabrics.

AJE: Are you in Paris? The only American designer classified as couture is Chado Ralph Rucci and he has not presented a collection in over three years.

I continue to eat my bowl of Puffins®. Enough about me, I direct the attention to him. I'm curious about his internship next semester in London.

SJA: Are you excited about Harrods?

AJE (modestly): Mhhmmm. It is very structured and organized. I will be working with each department for a week. For my last two weeks there, I get to choose my favorite department to conclude the program in.

SJA: Do you think you want to work for a luxury clothing store in your future career? Where do you see yourself in five years?

AJE: Ideally. It would be a dream. My mom says I have to work at one of the three B's: Bergdorf's, Bendel's, or Barneys.

He checks his clock. Time to jet down to Whitman. He plants a kiss on both my cheeks (left then right). Our conversation ends. It resumes tomorrow in Booth Three.

EXPERIENCE: Booted at Barneys

Sprawled out on the bed of the Hampton Inn Manhattan-SoHo, I insist to my father:

“Barneys is my closet.”

“Keep dreaming,” he snaps and throws me my worn-out leather boots. In my mind I think Louboutins! Daddy motions for me to get going for dinner. Lacing up my shoes, remnants of a purchase last year at TJ Maxx, I pine for the lavishness of my afternoon. Just hours earlier on this Friday afternoon, I pranced my way up the escalators of Barneys New York. Thumbing through Lanvin lace and Dries Van Noten minks, I believed the merchandise belonged to me. All mine. I felt at home.

Two months ago, it was home. I worked the Madison Avenue location over the summer and spent my time with the best of company: mass quantities of luxury goods. Proenza Schouler. Alaia. Givenchy. Versace. Rattling them off defined my job. Running around performing price checks on Prada and size exchanges on Miu Miu, I established an expertise in designer clothing. Up in the Studio Services department, an exclusive alcove on the eighth floor, I witnessed the behind-the-scenes action of stylists and costume designers. Packing garment bags for big names and television shows (let your imagination fill in the blanks: customer confidentiality), I embraced the fast paced nature of the fashion world. I also discovered my strengths: time management and reliability. And my weaknesses: a love for high-end footwear.

On my visit back to my favorite store, I pay respects to my friends on the fourth level-- Salon Shoes. A sucker for the red soles, I bypass the Manolos, dedicating my attention to the Christian Louboutin niche. I delve into my alter ego and decide on a pair of knee-high python stiletto boots. I check the bottom right foot: $2,600.

“Look who it is!” Chris, head honcho among the sales associates, exclaims. Dressed in a Dolce dress shirt, he swaggers toward me and kisses my cheek. I blush. He knows my schtick and escorts me to a love seat. Within moments, the objects of my affection adorn my feet.

“Take your time.” Chris assures me with a wink.

As soft as butter, the shoes melt around my feet. I tiptoe across the lush carpeting, pausing at every mirror. Two familiar young men poke their heads out of the stock room to catch a glimpse. A third chimes in, snapping a photograph with his Blackberry®. I kick up my heel and crack a smile for the camera.

SNAPS: Graveyard Grunge

Anonymous, Graveyard 10th St & 2nd Ave, NYC

SNAPS: Double Trouble

Kings Head Tavern, NYC
Day of the Dead