Fashion and fusionomics
My friend recently started dating a person of the Muslim faith. They were doing things normal couples do, like eating out, watching movies and canoodling — until Aug. 22 rolled around and interrupted the regularly scheduled programming of a blossoming romance. The guy had to fast, abstain from pretty much everything fun, and couldn’t even hold her hand. Although frustrated, my friend made valiant efforts to be understanding, but would occasionally bitch and moan about this huge cultural and religious rift. I call it Dramadan.
Last Monday was declared yet another non-working day in honor of Iglesia Ni Cristo’s executive minister Manalo passing away. Having just observed ones for Cory and Ninoy, Sept. 7 was one of those holideaths that made way for a long weekend.
Someone who tweets what they had for breakfast is called a Tweater.
Right now, I am sleepworking.
Words are often smushed or spliced together to create new meanings, but mostly to call attention to the punniness of said word. If the coinage enters into mainstream use, it may likely be cannonballed into the official English dictionary, but it can at least expect its 15 millibytes of fame on UrbanDictionary.com. The fashion world is not exempt from this faux-netic phenomenon, yet somehow, they miss the mark. Research and development geniuses behind clothing labels come up with some pretty genius hybrid interpretations of what were once “separates,” but the marketing peeps need to either step it up or just stop it with the terminology.
Jeggings, for instance. On first sight and sound they seem an abomination, something anak-ni-Janice-ish, a word that is more apt to describe a term that would land on the front page of Abante: Dalaga, 10 beses jinega. Jeans are fine, leggings are fine, but jean leggings.... more and more are claiming them to be a comfier alternative to skinny jeans, and done right, you don’t have to look like you’re channeling boricua from the block. Something has to be said for the trompe l’oeil that is performed on the material, recreating blue indigo denim (which comes from the French town of Nimes) on spandex, complete with fake pockets and printed rivets. But leggings are leggings, no matter what they look like, so please let’s stop being lazy. We don’t say laceggings for lace leggings, bleggings for black leggings, or leoggings for leopard-print ones.
New York Magazine listed a few other obnoxious and vocabularily retarded combinations that make me afraid of entering Topshop ever again:
Shootie: “Shoe” and “bootie.” A bootie is already a shoe, and if you claim to be any sort of fashion-phile you should be aware of your footwear phyla.
Spant: “Skirt” and “pants.” Y-3 introduced an edgy version of the spant, which is part cullottes, part baggy basketball shorts and literally one-half a legging. This Frankensteinish bottom is actually quite cool in a minimalist Japanese “I’m going to throw everything on and hang out in Harajuku” way. But it should probably be called speggings.
Hairring: Earrings made out of hair, from “hair” and “earring.” WHAT?
Jort: “Jeans” and “shorts” or jean shorts. I fondly remember them as “cut-offs.”
Swacket: “Sweater” and “jacket.” Also known as a cardigan.
Treggings: “Trouser” and “leggings.” These are like jeggings but made to look more pantsy.
Meggings: Male leggings. You know, to go with your murse and your mansiere, should you be inflicted with gynecomastia, or “moobs.”
Just because DJ AM died doesn’t mean mash-up culture has gone with him — there is hardly anything wildly inventive or wholly original you can do these days, it’s all about refining the remix. I would like to see leggings that mimic gladiator boots (gleggings); leggings made to look like human skin (skeggings) and drop-crotch panties (diahpurs). But not really.
