I’ve uncovered some old drawings I did when I fancied becoming a fashion designer! I had taken the class on a whim but soon I started enjoying turning random concepts into shapes for the body. I did a series inspired by vegetation. They are hilarious to me now. They nag at me every now and then, tempting me to go back to drawing. It has been eons since I’ve shaded in a line…

Drawing is a great activity for the cold seasons because it’s completely engrossing and it helps you see the beautiful details around instead of being submerged in the gloom of the grey. Who knows, I may give it another go. In the meantime, here’s a peak.

Fashion is a discipline and an art that I would have liked to exercise had I the opportunity. I loved the way it influenced culture. Do you remember when wearing an Afro was a counter-culture move! The relinquishment of the corset was one of the greatest moves in the push for social rights. Being released from the tight clasp of the bodice signalled a loosening of prohibitive social norms, and new kind of freedom -intellectual as well as political.

In the documentary “Bill Cunningham New York,” one man in drag explains that the renowned New York Times photographer had been photographing him since the 1980s but that he could not get into the Magazine because he wore dresses. The days when a mainstream newspaper would discriminate in its reporting over gender-appropriate apparel are gone!

When I read Street Etiquette a couple of months ago, I remembered what I had loved about this craft. These guys look amazing, not because of their awesome swag but because of their swagger. They wear their attitude of Dope in the clothes. They are cultured, bonhomous and engaged with the world {I love people who give a damn} All of those qualities show in their styles.

It is unfortunate for the industrious crafters of fashion that it has become a commodity. It is unfortunate that in the rush for immediate satisfaction, we try to put even the most reflective of human endeavors -self-expresion- on a conveyor belt. But this commodification always seems inevitable within some circles. The commercial and social hullaballou that exists around fashion today is the same that existed around literature in the 20th century. In 1936 every one with a sharpened pencil and an adventurous spirit wanted to be Hemingway -the war poet, the gritty intellectual, that ideal that mixed intellectualism with a “get your hands dirty” philosophy. Those who could not be like him wanted to have dinner with him. They expanded social capital just to stand in his presence. In the 1930s every one wished he were Picasso. Women stopped wearing underwear just for his sake.

People become polarized about things that they do not understand. Who really understands a Miro the first time he sees it? When people fail to understand something they either shut themselves in the cloak of ignorance and declare the subject total rubbish or they lavish empty praise on it lest the cultured aristocracy find them uncultivated.

I think that the proper way to approach anything is to be open about it. Really give it your mind and then trust your mind. If you don’t like Shakespeare and you think he was an unoriginal narrator (he was!) then that’s your opinion and you needn’t waver just because the crowd is breaking down the theatre door. If you think there could be nothing more miraculous, more poetic, more exultant of human beauty than Modigliano, then invite your friends to go see it with you. And if you’re certain nothing could be more beautiful, more touching to the human soul than a Chinese print silk scarf that gives you a frisson of pleasure every time you wear it, then feel it. I sometimes feel bad for true fashion admirers because I think they are left to defend something that many people see as a completely a superficial pursuit. And that’s unfortunate because fashion is nothing more than the outward expression of one’s inner workings. At least it ought to be.

There are, to be sure, people who use their clothes to impress rather than express. That’s a great shame because then they are creating hierarchy where there ought to be absolute democracy: self-expression is a universal right. And impressors find self-worth in the cult of pretention. No one should feel that he is less interesting, beautiful or important because, as India Arie said, your worth ain’t the price of your clothes!