Funny Devil Face Wears Prada

So here I am, finally working at a real fashion magazine! It’s always been one of my dreams to become a fashion journalist; it’s right up there on my list of childhood aspirations, just below sorceress and rock star. Even so, while I know WORN isn’t your typical fashion publication, I was, at first, a little confused. How come no one has asked me to get them a latte yet? Why has no one thrown a coat on my desk? Where’s my trip to Paris? And why, may I ask, have I already gone into my third month of work without an obligatory song and dance number?

Then I remembered: like many of my childhood dreams, my ideas of what it’s like to work at a fashion magazine are based solely and solidly on what may not be the most realistic of representations. Mainly, movies.

Specifically, there are two films which, while separated by decades, present pretty much the same accepted ideas about the cut-throat world of fashion magazine employment, and which have formed my fashion fantasies: The Devil Wears Prada, and its eerily similar predecessor, Funny Face.

Both films start with the same premise: a young, bookish brunette falls into a hard-to-get gig at a fashion magazine by complete accident. She meets a demanding, influential fashion editor, who insists on a makeover. The bookish brunette resists but is eventually swayed by the glamour of the fashion industry, visits Paris, falls in love, and tries to come to terms with her new identity. This is standard stuff!
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For the Love of Frizz

I think if I tabulated all of the time and money I’ve spent on hair dyes, hair straighteners, curlers, relaxing perms, trips to the hair dresser to have my hair thinned, and all of those other devices that exist to make your hair everything other than what it is, I’d probably have enough for a small down payment on a house. Before ceramic hair straighteners I had that crazy Conair machine with the steam mechanism attached… and before that I got my Mom to straighten my frizz with an iron and a towel.

Well, a couple of years ago I decided it was time for a frizzy-haired girl like me to find some relevant hair inspiration and nip the daily hair envy I felt towards non-frizzies in the bud! And now it seems that the messier my curls are, the more I like them, which has made my life that much easier with the sticky, humid summer we’ve had in Montreal!

Now more than ever it feels like the only thing I’m drawn to are big messy heads of hair, sort of like the ones most of the women have in old silent films. I got a collection of D.W. Griffith shorts in the mail not too long ago and sort of swooned when I saw Lilian Gish looking all frazzled and dishevelled in The Mothering Heart. It sort of made the whole thing that much more whimsical and fairy tale-like to me. I think it’s perfectly sweet and romantic the way they decorate their messy dos with little flowers, big bows and lots and lots of braids. It just seems better to me that they let their hair do what it wants to do, without trying to control it and make it into something it’s not.
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