Next Year, Don't Be So Nice

by HelluvaGirl

This blogpost has been inspired by several very unrelated stories: one very popular style blog, “The Black Swan” and Carine Roitfeld. I realised I didn’t want to keep this to myself any more.

I will not tell you which blog it is for I don’t want to point fingers, though probably it’s in your blogroll, too. I ran into a post with pictures of a really ugly outfit. I mean the accessories fit so badly and very much distorted the appearance of the woman. What I do in these cases, is skip the comment form and not mention what I think. Was it Tavi who said it’s useless to criticize the way people dress as it is a matter of personal style and taste? It is how we see the world that reflects in our looks. OK. In a way, I try to be nice by not saying anything.

However, I noticed that in cases of really very popular blogs which are not in the competition any more (they’re established at the top), comments are only worshiping. Love your outfit! Gorgeous dress! OMG it looks awesome! What about cases when it’s a horrific hat? I do believe it’s gorgeous and looks quite awesome on somebody else but what happens if it’s clear to everyone the hat sucks and must die?

If anyone dares to say what they think in a manner not quite resembling the approach to the Queen of England, it’s unforgivable. It’s not nice. And it provokes many displeased / offended / whatever comments back. Including one from the author herself, receiving around 100000 unique weekly visits.

I skipped the comment form that time once again. Nevertheless, it made me think: what is it with societies, especially in fashionable circles, that makes people refrain from frankness unless it’s in tune with the popular opinion? Fear to be rejected? Ignored afterwards? Nobody will follow my blog any more? Well, fuck nice. The entire idea of blogging is telling the world what I think in the first place.

This determination to sacrifice originality for the sake of nicety very much relates to everything mainstream. What’s paradoxical, it’s that personal style blogs tend to catch the disease of mainstream (think Jeffrey Campbell Litas) big time. Oh, I remember  – it’s about personalising anything you put your hands on. Alright. But I read around 150 blogs on style and fashion every day and guess how many Litas I run into.

The same happens with everything. You watch “The Black Swan”. 6 months before, you knew Rodarte made the costumes and everyone’s in nirvana. Well, if you asked me, the costumes were good, some of them even impressive. Most important, they helped to smoothly deliver the message without standing out too much – just like they’re supposed to in movies. But oh, it’s Rodarte, and everyone’s been talking non-stop, so should I. Hmmm.

Speaking of the content, I think it’s the case when the trailer’s better than the film. It raises your expectations to the point you start anticipating something truly deep and ambiguous and full of suspense, while several scenes after the beginning you already know what’s going on: a product of mother’s (ballet-star-wanabe) shattered dreams goes schizo about living the perfect dream – probably of their both, only the mother’s chance has been buried long ago. (By the way, a really complicated picture of a mother-daughter relationship you’ll find in “The Piano Teacher“. That one’s gonna get to you.)

I liked “The Black Swan” but it’s not as striking as I expected. You just sit and wait till the end watching the beautiful Portman, at times getting really annoyed by how nice her character is. Until it’s not, but in the film it gets sick – if you are nice, you have to die becoming bad. She just couldn’t survive her dark side.

Well, I can. Therefore, I left one confession to make: it was many years ago that I saw a woman in a magazine. She had alarmingly dark pockets under her eyes and the length of her dress struck me as the skin of her legs was unpleasantly flabby to watch. She looked like an old mare. Later I found out it was Carine Roitfeld and ever since, admiring her work, I kept wondering what are people thinking calling her a beauty.

There. Crucify me or unfollow me on bloglovin’, but here’s a New Year’s wish from the bottom of my heart: afford yourselves frankness for the price of being nice. Somebody will definitely stop speaking to you but those who will continue to… Well, one of greatest pleasures in life is being who you really are – inside a fashionable circle or far far outside it.