*sigh*...I even want her bike
I am in love with Chloe Sevigny. Or maybe it’s lust: lust for those jaunty ‘80s wayfarers she wore well before the stylists caught up; lust for the ‘50s high waisted shorts that, on her long milky legs, proclaim ‘siren’ instead of ‘sucker [for fashion]’; lust for that centre-parted blonde hair that shouldn’t work but seems to go with every outfit…
Chloe is the ultimate Vintage Vixen of our time: she was doing it long before the concept of ‘vintage’ became so diluted by the fashion industry that we accept Primark’s appropriation of the term for a 70s-inspired-£15-polyester-maxi-dress run up last week in a sweatshop in Manchester. Indeed, Chloe was doing it long before the word ‘vintage’ was common parlance at all.
For girls like myself who’ve always worn second hand stuff, it’s always looked, well, second-hand really. It’s Chloe’s insouciance that enables her to rock a tea dress with socks and sandals at Coachella (when the rest of us would just look like middle-aged German tourists on a coach tour of the pyramids). That, and her natural ability to marry quirky pieces to new stuff in one outfit and somehow make it look innocent and sassy all at the same time.
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