As I write this column, the election is still a week away … Oh, America, what will become of us on the Eighth of November? I suppose by the publication date of this column we will be settling in to four years of what? Glee, complacency, horror? A combination of these and more, most likely. So, this week in Style Fetish we offer a ludicrous pre-election prayer, for the post-election world, of course. Politics feels, sounds, acts and looks like hell these days; can the Gods of Style help the ’Merican political system when decency, logic and social-emotional health all appear to be failing? Probably not. But brothers and sisters, let us witness and testify regardless. Wrap yourself in a flag, get on your knees and let us pray …
May the politician’s stereotypical power-colors of power-ties and pussy-bows have positive meaning now and infuse their wearers with the vivacity of red, the dignity of blue and the bipartisan unisexuality of yellow; instead of red’s guilty bloodstain, blue’s dictator uniform and yellow’s wussy ambivalence.
Style Gods, please give us a prez who will dress the U.S. in an excellent and flattering outfit like Hillary’s green tweed suit-dress (worn in her cameo on “Broad City”). May it tighten up the nervous, flabby jiggling of our psyches and tailor us into confidence given by thick, high-quality, emerald green wool that’s hemmed to the perfect length for each and every one of us. Let that color green and the party of Green, too, keep spreading brightness over the land, literally and figuratively.
May America elect a president who is comfortable in their own skin, who is as unpretentious and unashamed as Noam Chomsky in his obviously self-styled rumpled sweaters and comfortably-wrinkled collars. Give us politicians, pundits and activists who are too busy improving the world to iron, and too authentic to hire someone to. Style Gods, give us pundits whose insights and logic are so compelling that even I can easily look past a dire need for cleaning and pressing.
We can thank you, Political Style Gods, as well as implore you for things. Thank you for the hilarious, incongruous and sexy gift of Maria Bartiromo’s boob-tacular background to the candidates’ depressing roast/dinner in NYC. The cleavage was comforting, her dress certainly espoused the new vivacity of red I have been hoping for in politics, and her long, white prom-looking gloves sitting near her plate were classy, if not, you know, a bit much. Bless the smirking seating-planner who intentionally put her behind the candidates (bless both candidates, too, by the way, for not turning right around and getting handsy) and bless Joey Ramone (R.I.P.) for the almost-20-year-old song you wrote about Maria – if only you were here today to add another verse*.
We also thank you for gracing and inspiring us with Michelle Obama’s realistic and fabulous first lady style of the last eight years. She wore the clothing of up-and-coming American fashion designers, communicated great style and easily commanded well-deserved respect and admiration. If only she were first lady for another four years, I know her sleeveless biceps alone would have saved the entire planet.
It is all in the dubiously-existing hands of the Gods of Political Style. “What about us, the voters?!” you ask, but I am predicting we all just got too confused by the bullshit, lost focus and started putting on post-apocalyptic Mad Max-style outfits, Snuggies or straightjackets in preparation for The Day After (Nov. 9). Style Gods, were you benevolent or vindictive this time? Did you finally punish Americans for how we dress while vacationing in Europe?
Hopefully at the very, very least, whomever is elected will follow the best-practices of fashion if they are unable to manage best-practices as president. The red, white and blue needs all the help it can get on both fronts. Amen.
Heather Narwid owns and operates Sideshow, a vintage and modern clothing store for men and women, where bureaucratic absurdity is kept to a minimum but *gratuitous Ramones mentions are at a maximum.