The Manifesto of the Style Vortex

First of all, I didn’t want to write this.

But I look around me and I am disturbed by what I see. I see a lost generation wearing elbow patches on their jackets because they think it’s cool. I see people in fashion magazines wearing bow ties because they think it’s, like, really cool. I see young people dressing however that week’s flash in the pan X-factor contestant is wearing with absolutely no idea of how ridiculous they look. And I realised that we live in worrying times when people will wear practically anything just because a style magazine tells them to or because a celebrity is wearing it. I realised our world is one where people have lost their way and have long since been abandoned by any ability to make judgements for themselves.

And I realised you need my help.

Foolish middlebrow minds like to think we learn from history. But there’s only one thing that history really teaches us, and that’s that we never learn from history. And nowhere is this more evident than in the history of fashion. You may look back at kipper ties, flares, poodle perms, puffa jackets, neon leg warmers, huge shoulder pads or even shell suits and think that if you had been around at the time you would have noticed how ridiculous they looked and think that if you had been around at the time you wouldn’t have worn them.

But you would have. You would have worn them because everyone else was and because you were told they were cool. Remember, no one spoke out against the atrocity of the shell suit until it was too late. When one lone voice spoke out, others awoke from their trance and before long a chorus had built up decrying the shell suit as one worst crimes in the history of human civilisation. But only when that lone voice had spoken out first.

So forget everything you know about whether something is in fashion or not. Forget whether something is coming in or going out. Something either looks good or it doesn’t. And that’s all there is to it.

So welcome to the place where that lone voice cries out.

Welcome to the end of all illusion and the birthplace of the real.

Welcome to the Style Vortex.