Approbation or Inspiration?

I, like everyone else, have been seeing a lot of this in the last few years:

(Source)

Heck, I even wrote about how much I was loving "Mexican" and "Native American-esque prints" over a year ago. I still find these patterns beautiful and inspiring... but now I have to wonder: was I being ignorant? Is it not okay for these patterns and textiles to be mass produced and sold by corporations?

Sasha Houston Brown doesn't think so. She wrote an open letter to Urban Outfitters (which you can read on the very cool Racialicious blog), condemning their use of the word Navajo to describe a line of their products, as well as the designs of the products themselves. The word "Navajo" is trademarked by the Navajo Nation, and in Brown's opinion, the Native Nations should be the ones to design, produce, and earn revenue from native-inspired fashion. She makes a ton of good points in an interview on Ecosalon.com, and has me teetering on the edge of a moral conundrum. 

This "print" hat is for sale at Urban Outfitters online. Image source. 

Is there a difference between inspiration and approbation, and where does one draw the line? 

As devil's advocate, I could also argue that Nordic Prints are very popular right now and have been for quite some time. Much like the "Native" products circulating the market, I'm certain these "Nordic" products are devoid of their cultural significance and don't actually reflect Nordic heritage. The same could even be said for Hawaiian prints; the iconic Hawaiian shirt is mass produced, probably without the involvement of Hawaiian designers and craftspeople. Would a person from a Nordic country or from Hawaii find their culture's print on panties offensive? 

Image source: Hawaiin shirt from Asos  

Image source: Nordic Panties from Knickerocker's Etsy store

There is no denying that these prints are attractive and even inspiring, but when in the hands of a major corporation, are stripped of the soul and meaning they had for the originating culture. Is that okay? Or should using these prints be the sole domain of members of this culture? That seems limiting to other artists...what a conundrum!

What do you think? Is there an appropriate and sensitive way that artists and designers can incorporate traditional images from other cultures? Are major labels being inspired by these popular prints, or flat-out stealing them? Is it inspiration, exploitation, approbation, or something in between? I'd love to hear your thoughts. 

Inspired

I fell in love with this photograph the second I saw it on my tumblr dashboard (via iamfrombarcelona) and couldn't wait to try it for myself. I just love the way the yellow collar is poking out of the dark blue sweatshirt, both for visual pop and the nerdy schoolboy connotation (I love dressing like a nerdy schoolboy teacher sometimes, though a slightly older coworker said "I think I wore that exact outfit when I was in 8th grade!").

Usually I'm not a fan of layering sweaters because they have to have perfect proportions or else look unflattering and bulky, but I admire this combo on so many other people, I decided to give it another try. My version doesn't have the amazing pattern on her collar, nor the amazing lips with which to boast a lovely deep lipstick shade (I actually am wearing a deep maroonish brownish lipstick but my lips are so razor thin the camera can't even pick it up!)

Image Source

My version.

Wearing:
Sweater: $1 at a roadside sale in N.C.!
Blouse underneath: Love Culture
Brown schoolboy shoes: Last Chance Thrift Store
Pants: they're like sweat pant jeggings. I got them at Festivity in Virginia Highlands for 50% off with Scoutmob! Most comfortable pants in the world, I want to go back and get them in brown!!

Overall I was satisfied with this outfit! I'm picky about what I wear to teach in, and this fulfilled all my requirements. I'm sure I'll wear a variation of it again sometime, when the nerdy schoolboy within needs another day out. Could be as soon as this weekend!!

My Concrete Prairie

Living in Down Town Atlanta has a million things that I love about it, but after awhile, one begins to feel a little cooped up. Warm weather and feeling the sun on your skin is nice, but I'm sure any ATLien is familiar with the change that takes place in Down Town this time of year-- the scent of urine being baked on pavement wafting up to your nostrils, the congestion of tourists looking at Frauda handbags, the unfamiliar new homeless people attracted by said tourists and mistaking you for one of them, the extra crowded MARTA train rides... It's enough to make me pine for a simpler life, to fantasize about being the only human for miles with only the fresh smelling good for me countryside to walk in and the sounds of water or insects to lull me to sleep instead of sirens and the familiar cry of the lone crack head in the night. In short, sometimes I start to wish I were in these places and wearing these outfits:

The ladies in these photos are Sasha and Amber, the masterminds behind Violet Folklore, whose whimsical scenery (and dresses via etsy!) I look at and sigh with longing for on a regular basis. I am all revved up for a few countrified dresses this summer, and these ladies and their gorgeous blog are pretty much single-handedly responsible for my newfound appreciation of a Little House on the Prairie look. Not that I think churning butter, losing half my family to influenza, and having a life expectancy of about 50 years would be so wonderful, but I do think the dresses that harken to this particular rural past are quite wonderful, not to mention a much needed break from the here and now!

While I do love the silhouette of mini and micro-mini dresses and skirts and DO plan on rocking those quite a bit these coming months, I admire the way Amber and Sasha are not afraid of a long hem. Usually I tend to write off long cuts on garments as matronly or frumpy, but the Violet Folklore gals look anything but! The photographs themselves are beautiful (not to mention the subjects!), and they seem so calm and effortless in their Gunne Sax pieces above that it has caused me to reexamine one of my own dresses of the same brand (although I'll admit here that I ignorantly had no idea who or what Gunne Sax was or that I already owned a lovely Gunne Sax vintage dress myself until I became a fan of Amber and Sasha's photos on flickr and their blog). 

I acquired the dress several years ago when I was still going through my teenage hippy-ish stage and was all about the 70's, and since then have only worn it in a costume-y manner. But the end of semester crunch has left me with the need to channel some of the calmness and effortlessness I perceive in Violet Folklore's style, and since I can't escape the concrete jungle I'll just turn it into my paved prairie!

So here is my Violet Folklore inspired outfit featuring my own Gunne Sax dress. 

   

   

   

   

Aaah, the fresh smell car exhaust and the lulling hum of helicopters lowering suffering people onto the roof of Grady Memorial Hospital! Nothing like it.

Dress: Vintage 1970's Gunne Sax. I got it at a little thrift-y type shop in Greensboro, N.C. for next to nothing!

Bow: Baby section at Target.

Argyle Socks: Hand me downs.

Boots: DSW-- rarely do I buy a new pair of shoes, but I bought these pirate boots last winter at DSW and they are crap and haven't lasted me half as long as any of my vintage or thrifted shoes! They developed a big crack across the sole so I can't wear them when it rains.

Skinny jeans: An old pair of Dollhouse brand jeans I have had for a long time, altered into skinnies.

If you're a fellow city girl and need a break from the sky scrapers and pan-handlers, visit Violet Folklore's etsy shop. It's the next best thing to hopping in your car and driving to the outskirts of town, only you don't have to use up any gas or abandon your best friend the internet... AND you might come away with a new dress, so really it's a win-win.

Anachronistic Dressing: A Tribute to the Past or an Insult to its Memory?

When one becomes accustomed to incorporating vintage items into his or her daily wardrobe, the question may soon arise as to whether or not pieces from different eras can be harmoniously matched and work together in one outfit. I used to flat out reject the notion of combining clothing from multiple generations... I shudder at the images burned into my brain of this attempt done wrong, like combining an adorable 50's housedress with 80's doc martins,

or a 70's hippie look with a chic roaring 20's hat.

Of course this is all subjective; who knows, maybe someone out there is pulling these combinations off as we speak, or Vogue may declare these looks IN next season and before I know it I'll find myself perpetrating these historical crimes that I now denounce. But fashion forecasts aside, lately I have been observing that mixing eras doesn't have to look confused and awkward, but can be a tribute to multiple moments in the past contained in one ensemble... when done right, that is.

Check out Regan from one of my favorite blogs La Meow combining 20's flapper with 70's punk.
Total badass anachronistic perfection.

The real question is, Why does Regan look so perfect whereas others just look poorly put together? What makes anachronistic dressing work, and what makes it fail? Regan suggested that her look worked because it's combining two rebellious movements in fashion.

Me and my roommate Jackie decided to throw together some anachronistic outfits of our own and have a little photoshoot to explore this conundrum. Did we succeed, or shall we be forever inducted into the historical nightmare hall of fame?

Here is my first attempt at combining eras. The hair is inspired by the 60's, the bow tie and blouse by 40's school girl, the ankle boots are from the 80's, the clutch is inspired by turn of the century tapestry bags, and the skinny jeans are modern!

Lace headband: Homemade

Blouse and clutch: thrifted

Bow tie: Antique store

Jeans: Urban Outfitters

Pink pixie ankle boots: Vintage 80's, found in Cincinnati

Jackie went eightiestastic with the gigantic sheep shirt and matching hair, but her spectator pumps are inspired by the ones that came out in the 40's though I doubt these particular ones are that old (I could be wrong, correct me if I am), her long necklace is 20's inspired, and her shorts-tights combo is distinctly contemporary.

Oversized sheep shirt: Vintage 80's, a gift from her friends' mom

Spectator pumps: thrifted

Jewelry and clutch: thrifted (?)

My next attempt combined some 70's high waisted jeans, turn of the century edwardian inspired blouse that buttons to neck with a ribbon tie, a fedora from the 20s, 80's green pumps, and a D&G bag that was popular over the summer (total knockoff btw!).

Fedora: Vintage from the 20's, found at a garage sale years ago.

Blouse: The Limited, hand me down from sister long ago before I outgrew her!

Jeans: Vintage 70's, found in Austin

Pumps: Thrifted

Dolce&Gabbana knockoff: some undisclosed street corner, of course.

And for her final historical hodgepodge, Jackie had 80's hair, a 20's inspired silk dress with 20's inspired long necklace, vintage pirate boots from the 70's, and a leopard print bracelet which I will mark as contemporary-- she made it herself out of a broken earring!

Dress: Urban Outfitters

Necklace: Thrifted

Pirate boots: Vintage 70's, found in Austin last year.

Animal print bracelet: Homemade.

I think we did a pretty good job! I think the truth is that fashion goes through so many cycles that in our day and age it's not unusual to see inspirations from different eras subtly paired. Perhaps the faux-pas occurs when too many distinctive pieces are competing for focus. In the movies and SciFi books, they always warn against playing with time-travel, but me and Jackie had a good time breaking this rule-- arguably too good of a time...