So there I was, feeling self-conscious about my new hat and that it was giving me the appearance of a balloon head. At first it felt like the right thing to do, the right thing to wear with a sun outside exposing itself like a flasher and announcing that summer still had a bit of bite.
Still, I wasn't fully convinced about my hat. It was a Singapore purchase, made of material perhaps more at home on a piece of furniture then my head. And with a cream linen suit, would have given me that colonial overlord look I'm always trying to go for.
It wasn't until I was approached by a French girl that I placed all my bulbous head misgivings aside and embraced the look I had decided to soft rock (like one of those inevitable overly emotionally charged power ballads from a rock band with way too much hair and the wrong sex to be wearing latex) that day. I mean, she was French and they know stuff about fashion right? Hmm, that Italian bloke down the street just gave me those Sicilian eyes of death – I think he knows what I just wrote. Also, she was a woman and pretty much most guys feel validated when a completely random member of the opposite sex spring out of nowhere and comments positively on your clothing.
She announced (yes, announced) was a fashion editor of one of those magazines for expats that are littered around the city. They generally tell us what's going on in town – where the Romanian trance DJ who's number 68th in the world is playing; what new American style burger cafe has opened; and which pretty party goers were photographed at a party you weren't invited to. And without them we'd be lost, destined to sit at home in the dark, gently rocking in the corner.
Anyway, it's a mag not recognised in the least bit for its fashion but as she liked my style, offered to feature me in a spread (maybe as my hat head was too big for just one page) in their 'style' section. I gave her a decisive, "Hmm, maybe," and I received her card for my trouble.
In the day or so I had to decide I found myself clutching an old issue of that particular magazine and the fashion spread in question. It really was a spread with the subject taking up way too much paper real estate for my liking. Basically, it was a large photo of person in question in their preferred look that I would assume would best represent them, with inset shots of a second outfit and a candidly posed behind the scenes photo of them on the shoot. Usually laughing at nothing while perched on a stool, as stool perching does bring out the funny in everyone.
It had all the finesse of a budget clothing catalogue and no matter who was featured, they seemed to come across in a lovely loser/try hard combo. And as that was already the look I was going for I thought I didn't need any help in that department.
Thoughts crossed my mind: was it wrong to bring my own stylist? Perhaps even photographer? Can I refuse a particular look? But the worst thing was they give you a cutesy nickname like 'The Adman' or better still 'The Madman'. Hear that sound? That, guys and gals is the sound of skin crawling. But I suppose It's all still better than the old foreigners dressed in charming mockery of local fashion, such as wearing pyjamas or red guard uniform.
A couple of years ago the style on the street had a distinct local flavour – stocking socks were all the rage for girls no matter what else they wore and some sort of hip-hop, that's not quite hip, look for the gentleman about town. And you could easily spot the Chinese who didn't quite call Shanghai home through their choice of clothing. Now it's different as they take their fashion cues from everywhere. The ones that haven't changed are the migrant workers performing much needed manual labour.
They're a link to another time – as if you were looking at photos from the turn of the 20th century in the west with men labouring in layers of clothing, almost everything they had – and topped off with a dark blazer of some type. I suppose in the mag they too would be given a chummy nickname of sorts.
Needless to say, although I'll say it anyway, I declined the offer. I also haven't worn the head extending hat again, but then again, the season is young.
