When I show up at a literary event in anything shy of an Edwardian gentleman's eveningwear, people get upset. This morning, I'm sitting in a day labor office in old jeans, a coat I've sewn back together half a dozen times and a sweater I bought five years ago. People here think I'm dressed up.
So I'm guessing that, even among the generally broke and frugal artist set here in the city, there's an inflated sense of fashion's importance in daily life. And yes, I realize that this is an unusual stance for a fashion writer to take.
Published on October 20, 2011 04:19