I confess that I haven’t been paying much attention to my gestalt lately—at least not using that specific term.
It brings me back to graduate school in English, when we were all pondering our gestalts, while imbricating this, deconstructing that, and generally spending our days lost in our thoughts. We looked like we weren’t actually doing anything but sitting in cafes and thinking (and a little writing, I guess).
Indeed, that grad student vibe describes the look that stylist Rachel Zoe seems to be advocating for her clients, as evidenced in a review of “The Rachel Zoe Project” by Ginia Bellefante for the New York Times.
The look Zoe promotes, says Bellefante, is one of “idleness,” as embodied by an Olsen sister, and, significantly, “a Starbucks cup is essential to the entire gestalt.”
Starbucks wasn’t in my neighborhood when I was in grad school, but I can tell you that I was often accessorized with a medium latte (the first year with caf, the second year sans, when the stresses of literary theory began to kick in). (Grande wasn’t in our vocabulary then, either.)
My current gestalt might just still involve a latte (downgraded to a small [tall]), but I like to think that my wholeness truly comes from just having read a thoughtful book. It jumpstarts my person in a way that coffee simply can’t and is, I like to think, an internal accessory.
Even though grad students might look to be idling, downing cup after cup of joe while parsing a line from Browning or unpacking cyborg references in Kathy Acker, I’m quite sure that all six cylinders are truly revving.
What’s essential to your gestalt?