Goats x men’s Vogue = year made.
This black look—the look tall girls won’t take off: the one with black fabric draped everywhere from throat to floor is a witch look. The garments de-construct as if they were ill: there’s no “shirt,” no “skirt”—just expensive black knit.
There aren’t arm-holes where there should be—or instead there are holes where no human limbs poke out. This can only mean that the wearer is missing limbs—from spells mis-cast with fateful ricochets. Legs busted under boiling cauldrons. The bizarre volumes serve to hide bushels of magik stuff.
Witches love fashion—as seductresses they must: they need that secret allure that only something perfectly constructed by a master creator can give a woman. But why has fashion chosen now to love witches back? And not in their glamorous state that they reveal to men—but in their daily garb: the clothes they do their wicked chores in.
The relationship between designer and witch has been disturbed. Instead of the witch getting seduction from the designer: he is getting seduction from her. So now that was dress like them; they walk among us incognito.
A protagonist moment for shoes in Degas’ “Absinthe“. You can almost derive the rest of the painting from her shoe: vainly put-together and hap-hazard simultaneously. She is dressed up with that chantilly-pouffe of white lace on her baby-blue (satin?) pumps. However, mid-air, in that strange indecisive position, it is the podiatric echo of her famous stoned expression.