- 3,99 €
Description de l’éditeur
The story of a young woman’s life, one outfit at a time.
Tucked inside the fibers and buttons and pockets of the clothing in our closets are the stories of our lives, the lessons we’ve learned, the people we’ve loved. Like so many of us, Adena Halpern has used clothes to conform, to seduce, to console, to show off, and to hide. Her ability to relate fashion to her inner life--in a way that goes beyond the clothes--has endeared her to many readers, one of whom called her, "the real-life Carrie Bradshaw."
But Fashionista, she’s not. Adena is: every teenage girl who had to have what all the other girls had, whether it looked good on her or not; the college coed who swooned for the boy in the leather jacket; the heartbroken girl who chose a rebound dress over a rebound man; the best friend who borrows clothes and never gives them back; the woman who is 45 minutes late to work because she has nothing to wear. She is a lover of clothes and shopping whose passionate memories are always tied not only to the clothes that she wore, but what everyone else was wearing, too. This is the affectionate and funny story of Adena’s life, an unconventional love story that readers will want to share. Clotheshorse or otherwise, this book is for anyone who keeps an old piece of clothing in the back of their closet, wishing that one day those clothes would get up and start talking about the wonderful times you once shared together.
Halpern, a 30-something writer for Marie Claire, rehashes her life's pinnacles and pitfalls, epitomized by the clothing that marks seminal moments. Target undies constitute her covert economic side; the Vera Wang is her "breakup" gown, worn in solitude to buoy her spirits. Between these two extremes, each garment in Halpern's sartorial spectrum hooks to a stage in her life from the Madonna-inspired do-rag that wowed her suburban high school to the hideous Lycra flower dresses in pre-Barneys Los Angeles, an omen that she's erred in moving there after attending college in New York. "Fashionista, I am not," she claims, but six-inch platforms, Fair Isle sweaters and Dolphin shorts induce torrents of memories relived in vivid, intimate detail. Prone to shopping benders, Halpern fixates on clothes to a frightening degree; her biggest romantic challenge is never to repeat a date outfit. Yet she has serious wit up her sleeve, belying her shallow posturing. Her shrewd eye for the image culture and its throttlehold over women, herself included, touches on the pressures of perfection. At times, Halpern overstates her points with an endless parade of anecdotal outfits. But her bubbly, sisterly writing glosses over any downers, freeing readers to bask in wardrobe nostalgia.