The Fashion U-Bahn

Let me share with you a topic that has, as of late, consumed much of my thoughts, and a lot of my dollars: European Fashion.

We all know that I am not the most fashionable siren on the rock.  That being said, I don't think I dress badly--I wear tight jeans and shirts that make it look like my boobs are bigger than they actually are.  In comparison with the people who go to the Walmart in Camden, I'm a regular supermodel.  But there can be no doubt that I'm not particularly Fashion Forward.  That would imply, if not driving the Fashion Train, at least being in first class, and I am clinically unable to match my socks.  I also can't say that I'm Fashion Backwards, because that suggests at least being aware enough of the train to run in the opposite direction.  I'm not even Fashion Misguided, because they just got on the wrong train.  It's more like I'm Fashion Blissfully Oblivious.  I'm too busy looking at the birds and the clouds and the dragons to realize there's a train in the first place, and why don't I take a nap on this comfortable piece of railroad.  Do you hear something?

So I decided I need to get on the Euro fashion train.  Maybe not the high-speed rail, but at least the subway.  This much I can manage, I thought.  Except I had even less of an idea what was fashionable in Europe than I did in America.  At least in America I had Claire for that shit, but here I was all by myself.  But I was college-educated, this couldn't be too difficult, right?

And in that thought, I saw a solution--I was college-educated!  And if there's one thing that an anthropology is good at, it's observing people.  And if there's one thing I'm good at, it's making highly unfair and vaguely racist judgments about the people I observe. Put the two together, è voila!  THE FASHION U-BAHN IS NOW BOARDING.

So I bought an ice cream, sat on a park bench, and really creepily observed everyone walking by.  I even went to the bookstore and flipped through the German edition of Seventeen, which highly embarrassed me, so I hid the magazine in between a giant book of world maps.  And then my college education kicked in, and I realized I had a problem: the average age of young people in this city is seventeen.  And I am neither seventeen, nor in any rush to dress like one.

Thus it was back to square (or bench) 1, and I set about data collecting take two (read: hunting down the people in my age group and taking mental notes on what they were wearing.  I disregarded everyone who was had multiple piercings, a panhandling sign, or an unneutered dog).  Then I did a general sweep of the clothing stores in town (after first sitting outside them and making sure they were not old-lady stores) to see what was in.  Then I went shopping.  Then I wrote this:

AN AMERICAN'S GUIDE TO EUROPEAN FASHION

AS INTERPRETED BY TINA 

who takes no responsibility for the accuracy of her observations

and would appreciate you not making fun of her

I hate everything.

Things that are "in" in Europe:

--skinny jeans

--giant scarves that are not warm

--anything knitted

--flat shoes

--ankle boots

Fabulous!  I decided it was time to start buying shit.  And then, to embarrass myself further, I decided I would put the pictures of what I bought on my blog.  You know, Euro fashion visuals.  So we shall take this on a case by case basis.  

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Now to break it down!

And there you have it!  So the next time you feel like dressing like a European, you can tell Heidi Klum I sent you.

You're welcome.