 Like other rare birds, she was never afraid to wear her bright colors. The world lost a rainbow of colors this week with the passing of Iris Apfel, the "Rare Bird" of the fashion and style scene. Iris Apfel was the glorious age of 102 when she passed this week on March first. Now, the news wasn't unexpected as the icon had lived a long and glamorous life, but the news still pinched my heart as her presence in this world has served as such a source of joy and inspiration for all, including myself. Iris Apfel has been a foundational source of inspiration in my own style journey as she was not afraid of color nor afraid to pair them in unusual/unpredictable color combinations. She worshiped at the altar of the accessory and was bold in her choices whether they were luxury items or from the corner costume jewelry store. She dressed not for attention, but to express her soul as well as to bring color into a dull world. She saw style not as a thing that was ruled by the rich or by the "trends'' of the current fashion, but instead she saw style as something inherently individual. I discovered Iris close to ten years ago through her documentary which is self-titled "Iris". The movie documents her life and captures her spirit of enthusiasm for life. To this day, it is my favorite documentary and I would advise everyone to watch it as it captures the joy of creative expression, the individuality of beauty, and the eternal youth that we all possess. Below are some of my favorite outfits/ quotes of hers for your own inspiration and appreciation. Enjoy, and please wear something colorful this week in her honor.
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At the age of fifteen he fell in love; not with a high school crush, but with the American West. Mark Maggiori was born in Fontainebleau, a commune of Paris, in June of 1977. His childhood was spent in France, but at the age of fifteen his family took a month-long road trip from New York to San Francisco and this is when he met his love, the Great American West. Mark was struck by the National Parks, the vastness of the plains, and the archetype of "cowboy culture". This trip left a lasting impression on him, but its manifestation would not present itself until later in his life. Mark returned to his home country and was formally trained in academic drawing at Paris’s "Academie Julian". After completing his degree, he then decided to take an artistic detour and pursue one of his other loves, music. In 1997 he formed a successful nu metal band named "Pleymo". The band went on to achieve success and through the various opportunities Mark began to dabble in other creative outlets such as photography, filmmaking, and graphic design. During one of his artistic escapades of filming a music video, he met his future wife Petecia Le Fawnhawk. She was on set as set designer as well as fashion designer for the video. The two artists bonded and Mark eventually made the trip to Oklahoma to meet her family. While on the trip, Mark donned a cowboy hat and Le Fawnhawk’s father challenged his apparel choice by stating something like, “If you a Frenchman are going to wear the cowboy hat, you better know the true story of the cowboy”. So, Le Fawnhawk's father urged Maggiori to visit the “National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum” in Oklahoma City. Maggiori went, and states that he felt as if he was “struck by lightning” and shortly after this visit his Western-themed painting career began. Mark Maggiori’s paintings capture the American Cowboy in a theatrical light via billowing clouds, strong contrasting light, and profoundly realistic portraits. His canvases are large and dominating, but provide comfort as the viewer gets pulled into the lullaby that is the beginning of the West. His artwork is adored in the Western art world and he has won several honors, one which includes being named a member of the “Taos Society of Artists”. I found Mark Maggiori via Instagram and upon first scroll, I was captured by his use of light and his gift of storytelling via a stagnant yet dynamic image. His landscapes capture the beauty of the American Southwest that I have experienced and loved since my youth. Several of his paintings remind me of my summers in New Mexico where I would spend countless hours running through fields and then settling only at night under the moon that hovered above our tents. Mark Maggiori’s pieces arrest me with a nostalgia and a longing for simplicity, adventure, and undomesticated wildness. I hope his art sparks these same feelings for you. P.S. Below are four random facts about Maggiori that I couldn't seem to weave in anywhere, but are worthy of your admiration. 1. He has incredible style. And this denotes for me that his incredible taste doesn’t stop merely at his paintings, but extends into any medium he takes on. And this is inspiring.   2. He loves classic American cars. Check out the photo. Need I say more. 3. His impecable taste extends into his architectural design. This can be seen via his studio in Taos. It is an example of living art and a artistic breakway from the cookiecutter homes we find in suburbia. 4. Mark Maggiori has great music taste. I know this because of what he shares via his Instgram stories. His most recent share was from "Hermanos Gutierrez". When I saw that, I was flabberagsted as they are a smaller band and deserve many more flowers. My favorite song by them is "Cerca De Ti". Give it a listen.
I am a West Denver girl, through and through. I love the lowriders cruising on Federal Boulevard, a steak from Columbine Steakhouse, my Denver Broncos, and the National Western Stock Show.
This annual event is a ceremonial call-back to Denver’s roots as a “cow town” as 700,000 people gather to watch rodeos, attend stock shows, wear their best Western wear, and eat funnel cake. The National Western Stock Show has been held in the same location in Denver since 1906, and I have been lucky to attend it for all of my life. My first attendance at the stock show was with my “Popeye”, my paternal grandfather. He would make a point to attend each year as this event was held in own neighborhood of Swansea (this is the same neighborhood where I spent my summers riding bikes under the I-70 underpasses and tunnels). We would gather at his house, all nine of us varying from ages thirteen to four years old, and we’d begin our yearly pilgrimage to the event. At that time, we wouldn’t pay for rodeos, but instead spent most of our time wandering around and looking at all the animals. It was always a highlight of our year, and we only lost a couple cousins a couple of times.
This year, I attended the Stock Show during Martin Luther King Jr. weekend which highlighted the African-American riders and focused on the history of the American Cowboy.
The rodeo hosted the traditional events, but between rides and challenges the announcers taught about the history of the American Cowboy. They spoke of the diversity that the field has always had even though, cinematically and thematically, the American Cowboy has been portrayed as a blue-eyed man, John Wayne. When in reality, the cowboys of the west consisted of Mexicans from original Mexican land of the southern United States, the African-Americans from the newly emancipated South, and the Native Americans who have always tended to the land. It is stated that, “Latinos, Native Americans, and African Americans consisted of about a third of all cowboys during the “golden age” of the American cowboy [between 1866 and 1895] (Roberts).
I personally love all the educational elements of the National Western Stock Show as they highlight the history of the West, the agricultural trades and practices, and the livestock; however, another element that I love about the Stock Show is the Western Fashion.
As you walk the Western Complex grounds you’ll see working men in carhartt overalls while they groom the cows, riders in bedazzled and fringed chaps signing autographs, women dawning their furs while they haggle for turquoise, and almost everyone in either their cowboy hats or cowboy boots. I love the mingling of aesthetics: working-men with showmen. While walking between the horse stalls you will see someone who looks like they could be walking a runway and on the next pass you’ll see a life-long rancher wearing coveralls for practicality over beauty. I personally chose to dress for the runway in one of my newest vintage purchases from one of my favorite antique stores on Broadway, “The Odditorium”. It is a 1960s leather jacket with fox fur accents. She is a dream come true and I chose the stock show as her first outing. And, she was a hit. I easily received fifteen compliments on the coat alone and I attribute her beauty to our free “gator ride” from the parking lot to the venue (which was much needed since it was zero degrees and it was snowing).
Western wear fashion is currently experiencing a renaissance and we can see this via Louis Vuitton’s latest release at this past week’s fashion week. It was a gorgeous collection and captured the American spirit intertwining together the practicality of the working man with the flamboyant flare of the showman.
Now, I am not saying that Louis Vuitton is the end all be all in fashion (because it's not and I am actually not a fan of the logo-game), but it goes to show that Western wear is receiving a lot of love and I am so hopeful that this niche will explode and bleed into the wear of everyday life. I would love to see more bolo ties, leather, denim, fringe, and turquoise around me instead of Kirkland specials and athleisure laziness. I’d love to hear the click of a cowboy boot instead of the squeak of the borderline geriatric cushioned sneaker. I would love to see men dressing for the day and I feel like "Western Wear" is a authentic avenue that a lot of men can adopt seamlessly and without feeling as if they are being disingenuous to themselves; because lets face it...what man (or woman) hasn't grown up wanting to be a cowboy?
So, this concludes my love letter to “The National Western Stock Show”. She is a Denver gem and if you’ve never been, I hope this blog post encourages you to go. Today is the last day and it is worth every penny and every minute of your time, especially if you were born and raised here. I think this annual event captures the charism of Denver and calls us back to our "cow-town" roots and serves as a reminder of the diversity that this city was built on. It calls us back to nature and reunites us with the cowboy or cowgirl that lives in all of us. It is an opportunity to remember that we were not always domesticated humans running the rat race, but instead we were united with the land and filled with a sense of adventure.
I hope that all of you readers go and get reacquainted with your inner wildness by wandering through cow stalls while dodging “cow-piles”, eat a turkey leg straight off the bone, and then appreciate the sway of some well-laid chaps. Giddy up. P.S. Featured below is music playlist for your listening pleasure. And, a video of my "stock show" experience. P.S.S. DId you know, that the "most beautiful cow" gets to grace the halls of the historical Brown Palace after he/she hs been crowned the "Grand Champion Steer"? Please google it if you haven't seen it. They are so gorgeous and deserving of gracing those halls. I love those fluffy cows.
The thin chapters of my childhood are littered with the dialogues of family and strangers complimenting me with the confusing phrase, "You're an old soul". The phrase would slip from their lips as I questioned divinity, humanity, purpose, and free will. I'd often shrug my shoulders at the phrase, not knowing whether it was a compliment or some sort of curse. All I knew was that it felt true as I found myself pondering philosophy while dribbling my basketball in the back alley and worrying for the state of my soul while I played in the creeks of the Evergreen mountains. I was pensive yet playful; I was heavy in thought yet light with a sense of impending freedom...I guess that is what makes an "old soul". One of the first times I recall being called an "old soul" came at the age of six. I was belting out Roberta Flack's "Killing Me Softly With His Song" in my Grandpa Danny's cigarette smoke filled apartment. You would have thought I was in the local bar at the Thursday evening karaoke night with the performance I was putting on. I was crooning, swaying, closing eyes, holding my heart while singing with little assistance from the words that danced across the karaoke screen. That song was mine and my aunts and uncles would gather around and cheer me on as I sang that song of ache and abandonment. Even to this day, my Uncle Chris says he always thinks of me when he hears the song or its cover by "The Fugees" on the radio. My status as an "old soul" gained more and more footing as I found myself gravitating toward vintage design and styling, classic literature, and the now dead practice of burning CD mixtapes that were filled with 60s, 70s, and 80s music. I was ten years old dancing to 70s r&b in my bedroom, fifteen years old falling in love with Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter'' and seventeen years old driving my 1984 Toyota 4Runner through the Harvey Park neighborhood in order to admire the "California-Style" homes from the 70s. I have seemed to always ache for a time that was never mine, but I loved passionately anyways. When I reflect on all these loves in my life that have contributed to my “old soul” signature, I see a vein of similarity that permeates throughout…creativity, vibrancy, and novelty. When I look at the things that are considered "vintage", I see a break from the cookie cutter templates that we are currently functioning in our times. Architecture was creative and unpractical and I am sure it wasn't cost-effective as it wasn't concerned with protecting the "profit margins". Clothing was bright and colorful while being well-made in contrast to the blah functionality of the "Kirkland" specials that literally everyone is wearing. Our current design and styling is too much focused on "blending-in" and protecting the "practicality" and "comfortability" of everyday life that we have lost the fun and appeal of life. Instead, we are left with overly square homes that are called “modern” in place of the historical home in the new gentrified neighborhood. Instead we are left with chain restaurants and stores which create clones of society in every suburb of America. Everything is too blah, too streamlined, too sensible, too predictable. Personally, I would rather live in a world where people are impractical, fun, and expressive than one where we are minimalistic yet so obsessed with an image that has been developed via consumerism rather than by creativity and/or self expression. And, if that makes me an “old soul”, then I’ll take it.
I see the wisdom in expression, in color, art, and a well written novel that is free of SMUT (if you don't know what that is...google it...I just learned about it from a man I met in the sauna). I love a 70s playlist playing while I play a game of pool in my bellbottoms. I have no desire to “blend in” by assimilating into the trends of today in order to maintain some semblance of social status (which is just consumerism and “keeping up with the Joneses”).
I, instead, desire to move under the influence of self-expression and passion. I love what I love even if it crosses genres, eras, and niches. And by embracing the messiness of our own passions, desires, and loves…we find individuality…and the wisdom in expressing your own soul is what being an “old soul” is. It is the ability to unapologetically embrace yourself as you are, in all its mess and glory…no neat lines or boxes necessary. So, put the cookie cutters down and embrace the paintbrush. Bring color into the gray Kirkland ruled world. Decorate a space with thrifted treasures in lue of the Pottery Barn “latest”. Play the funk song that encourages movement in a calcified room. Stop watching “trend reports” and curate your own style. And please, for the love of god, express your soul in a world that seems to be losing its own. P.S. Read "Why Culture Has Come to A Standstill" at the New York Times if you'd like to further dive into the ponderings of why it seems culture has become so bland. I loved his point about how in the past we seemed to be pushing forward with creativity, but now we seem to only be pushing forward with technology and consumerism.
 Halloween may be my favorite holiday of the year. Sure, I love to dress up, but it is so much more than that. It is a respite from the daily grind and monotony of earth tones and beiges. It gives the wider population an opportunity to embrace self expression unapologetically. I love to see people step outside of their comfort zone and welcome that child-like wonder of play in daily life. It exudes a spirit of joy, freedom, and playfulness…..and our world needs a lot more of that. The philosophers call this a catharsis and frankly, I think more respites such as these would benefit everyone. This playfulness is not to be confused with “childness”, but instead it is an act of rebellion against cynicism and bitterness. I see this cantankerousness all too often in daily life and it often seems like people are competing to see who can have the “more-shit” day. Seriously, people will start a conversation with, “Wow, isn’t this weather terrible?”, or “Did you see that horrible headline on the news?”, or “How about inflation?”. Um, no thanks. That is why I think the holiday of Halloween is so important, it prompts a return to your inner child and prompts one to lay down their armor from the daily grind. I love seeing everyone’s rendition of Halloween. You get to see people’s personalities, infatuations, role models, and their creative confidence. I exercised my own creative confidence this weekend by putting together a streetwalking ode to my first girl crush, Julia Roberts. As a young child, I spent many hours rewinding the VCR to rewatch my favorite movie, "My Best Friend's Wedding". In that movie, everything about her captivated me. Her wide and frequent smile and her big wild hair. I worshiped at the altar of Julianne Potter (Julia Roberts's role in the movie) and concurrently fell in love with the leading man, Dermot Mulroney. “My Best Friend’s Wedding” is my favorite of hers, but her most famous movie is her role in "Pretty Woman" as Ms. Vivian Ward. It is an unlikely fairytale story where the girl from the street captures the heart of the man in the upper penthouse. It has a cult following, rightfully so, and I am a member. So, for this Halloween I decided to honor that first "girl crush" by dressing up as her most famous role. I had all of the pieces already in my vast wardrobe sans the iconic white and blue "streetwalker" dress and the platinum blonde bob. When I put it all together, I felt like Julia and it was easy to replicate her big wide smile.   As I danced my way through "Halloweekend" my costume was appreciated by all the right people. "Pretty Woman" is over 30 years old and has somewhat faded in the pop culture consciousness; therefore, when I would hear...."Hey, Pretty Woman!"....It created a fun exchange between both parties. In my opinion, that is what makes a great costume...capturing the likeness of character to such precision that you are recognizable to those who "know" while also remaining unique and inimitable in the crowd….because the world can only handle so many Spidermans and cheerleaders.
While out, the joy felt palpable. People dressed as silly or sexy characters created an energy of expression without restraint. People were not concerned with looking “buttoned-up” or “acting their age”, but instead they were living in the moment as whatever character they were that night. No one was talking about the stock market, war, inflation, or whatever doom and gloom that is circulated on the news, but instead people were present to one another and enjoying the freedom of that moment on the dancefloor. It was beautiful and we need more of that Halloweekened energy. So, if you’re reading this before the end of Halloween…I hope you dress up. Embrace that inner child. Play. Get creative. And find a way to express yourself freely….because if you don’t, it’d be a big mistake. Dare I say, “Huge!” (get it?) P.S. I am entering the costume contest at the concert I am going to on Halloween evening (yes, it is a school night). Wish me luck! P.S. Julia Roberts's love interests in her movies profoundly influenced my taste in men...and I'm more than okay with that. |
AuthorBrianna is a proud native of West Denver and she is an avid admirer of the arts. Her admiration of the arts is centered around her draw toward the beautiful and good of everyday life. Brianna finds beauty in a well-worn book, in the eclectic colors and textures of a thrift store find, and in the sound of a killer guitar solo whether it be live or through a well thought out Spotify playlist. Her passions are varied and many, but they all center on appreciating the fullness of life. Archives
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