I wrote most of this post before the Oscars, and now I feel a little miffed that I waited this long to put it up, since it seems red was The Color to be wearing. No matter! I'm not really one who cares too much what celebrities and co. wear to awards shows, but my two cents is: I think Helen Mirren and Anne Hathaway wore it best.
Red is an odd color for me. I avoid it, except in food and sometimes in decorating rooms and things, and only really wear it in small doses. I love red lipstick (MAC 'Russian Red' is my shade of choice) but don't wear it often because I have a problem with eating constantly that doesn't agree at all with dark lipsticks. And yet, I cannot escape red! Red, red, red. Little Red Riding Hood comes to mind of course (I wrote a fantastic paper on her last semester), along with all other iconic reds.
I suppose it's because I feel like red screams at me. Obviously there are loads of other loud colors, but red just assaults me when it's on my body, or that I too much realize (if not directly—note to self, stop using parenthesis—but subconsciously and all that) the connotations of wearing red. I mean, there it is, when someone wants to stand out, louder than all the rest. Besides all that red is never a color I've been drawn too. I recoil from it, personally, but can't help but be sort of fascinated by it on other people.
DKNY
Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.
-'Child in Red', by Rainer Maria Rilke
More important than a red dress, to me, are shoes! I am biased, I know. I work in shoes, and I love shoes. I tend to dress from the shoes (or hosiery) up and have piles and piles of impractical shoes despite my terribly mistreated feet. Shockingly, I have only one pair of red shoes. I bought them on a whim, and have since learned how glorious they are. H&M has a pair of cotton red flats that I would love for spring (honestly, I need to stop thinking about it. We've got all kinds of insane weather coming) but sadly they only have a 5 and a 10 left.
Moira Shearer in The Red Shoes (1948)
She wore neither a train nor a golden crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer than those which the shoemaker’s wife had sewn for little Karen. There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
-'The Red Shoes', Hans Christian Anderson
Red is an odd color for me. I avoid it, except in food and sometimes in decorating rooms and things, and only really wear it in small doses. I love red lipstick (MAC 'Russian Red' is my shade of choice) but don't wear it often because I have a problem with eating constantly that doesn't agree at all with dark lipsticks. And yet, I cannot escape red! Red, red, red. Little Red Riding Hood comes to mind of course (I wrote a fantastic paper on her last semester), along with all other iconic reds.
I suppose it's because I feel like red screams at me. Obviously there are loads of other loud colors, but red just assaults me when it's on my body, or that I too much realize (if not directly—note to self, stop using parenthesis—but subconsciously and all that) the connotations of wearing red. I mean, there it is, when someone wants to stand out, louder than all the rest. Besides all that red is never a color I've been drawn too. I recoil from it, personally, but can't help but be sort of fascinated by it on other people.
DKNY
Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.
-'Child in Red', by Rainer Maria Rilke
More important than a red dress, to me, are shoes! I am biased, I know. I work in shoes, and I love shoes. I tend to dress from the shoes (or hosiery) up and have piles and piles of impractical shoes despite my terribly mistreated feet. Shockingly, I have only one pair of red shoes. I bought them on a whim, and have since learned how glorious they are. H&M has a pair of cotton red flats that I would love for spring (honestly, I need to stop thinking about it. We've got all kinds of insane weather coming) but sadly they only have a 5 and a 10 left.
Moira Shearer in The Red Shoes (1948)
She wore neither a train nor a golden crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer than those which the shoemaker’s wife had sewn for little Karen. There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
-'The Red Shoes', Hans Christian Anderson
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