The Garish Embarish Post

One of my favorite New York Magazine sections is the approval matrix. Last week in the despicable/highbrow section was a photo of Carrie in the SATC film with a large Louis Vuitton gift box in her hands. In the background was a circled snippet of a Bluefly shopping bag, with this (from memory) comment: “Bluefly? Carrie would never.”

Point well taken, but I was surprised that nothing was said about the content of that LV gift box Carrie was about to give her assistant. For inside lay a truly garish handbag in various shades of orange and yellow patent and jacquard. Louise (the recipient of said gift) made the requisite fuss, but I wonder whether she wasn’t a tad disappointed.

I mean, if you’re going to buy someone an LV bag, at least buy her a beautiful one. (Linda Grant makes a similar point on her Thoughtful Dresser blog.)

But now it seems that I have experienced a garish comeuppance. For I have just received (in the mail, ordered by moi, not as a gift) an exquisitely garish pair of shoes.

First, please note that I do not like yellow gold for myself—I’m a white gold grrrl. These shoes, however, are cracked* yellow-gold four-ish-inch high-heeled spectators with a creamy patent perforated toe (and a little cream patent around the heel). The gold buckle has a large-ish gold crown on it and the shoes are made by that supremely garish label (and I shudder to type this) Juicy Couture.

I have not fallen under Juicy’s spell these many years as Gela and Pam have left their garish mark on yoga sets, dresses, bags, advertisements, etc, etc. In fact, I have said “Yuck,” and looked to something more funkily elegant.

But I like these garish shoes of mine and think that they will be strangely wearable as a neutral.

What do you think? Is there a time when you can wear garish without feeling embarish?


*And to think I was just ranting about cracked leather on K.Line’s blog. Umm--oops!