I've been avoiding talking about this Michelle Obama woman, because I am not political. However, I notice Cathy "Ohio" Horyn has been posting about Mrs. Obama on her blog, along with the rest of the press (ie. the world).
And this is not a matter of politics anyway. It is a matter of style.
Now, don't get me wrong. Mrs. Obama can dress fine- if meeting the queen in a sweater in something you want to do. Perhaps she assumed they would go fox hunting afterwards. I do like the fact that it was a Junya sweater, but still; she should've worn the giant Yohji wedding dress or something. Maybe one of those black ready-for-camping dresses that Junya designed this season.
Anyway, this is not the problem. The problem is that Mrs. Obama is written about as some sort of style icon; as some sort of second coming of the messiah; as this Christ-like figure that somehow bestows her style upon the world.
I am the Christ-like figure in this world, Mrs. Obama. Who the hell do you think you are? You're going around like you're some leader or something. It is rude. You are rude, Mrs. Obama. I am not impressed. Do you see this high collar? Do you see these dark sunglasses? The ponytail? Have you heard of Chanel? Have YA'LL HEARD OF CHANEL?
Look. It's fine for you to go around wearing your pretty little clothes. But when the media starts paying attention to it, well, that's when I become a tad confused. Your style is not that great. It's what I would call, at best, "homely." Like a wife making bread- in a photoshoot. But now you're infringing on my personal space. I have a bubble-of-style, and your are getting near it. Get out of it. Get out of my bubble-of-style.
I don't understand why you media people are paying attention to Mrs. Obama's "style". You're fawning over her like she produced a collection or something. Like she's.....me. She is simply wearing clothes. In the morning, she puts on her clothes- a sweater, slacks, and so on. This is no great feat of genius. You put the sweater over your head, and lower it down whilst inserting your arms through the armholes. It is simple, non? Or is everybody naked and I haven't noticed yet?
In which case I offer Mrs. Obama my sincere congratulations for managing to get dressed every morning.