Andrea Linett - I Want to Be Her!
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FOR MOM AND DAD
Editors: Rebecca Kaplan and David Cashion
Designers: Michelle Ishay and Danielle Young
Cover Design: Gabriele Wilson
Production Manager: Ankur Ghosh
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Linett, Andrea.
I want to be her! : how friends and strangers helped shape my style / by Andrea Linett; illustrated by Anne Johnston Albert.
pages cm
ISBN 978-1-4197-0401-7 (alk. paper)
1. Linett, Andrea. 2. Clothing and dress. 3. Beauty, Personal. I. Title.
TT507.L527 2012
646.3dc23
2012008023
Text copyright 2012 Andrea Linett
Illustrations copyright 2012 Anne Johnston Albert
Published in 2012 by Abrams Image, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Abrams Image books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use. Special editions can also be created to specification. For details, contact specialsales@abramsbooks.com or the address below.
115 West 18th Street
New York, NY 10011
www.abramsbooks.com
Im not really sure when or why kids decide that they want to be something other than a clich, like a model or fireman, to something more specific and real, like an advertising executive or a district attorney. Ive always known that I needed to be in a field that was fast-paced and filled with glamour, fashion, and funotherwise, what was the point? After all, I grew up watching my mother, an advertising writer and creative director, in just such an environment, and she seemed to have a great time with her work every day. Practically from the time I was just out of onesies, I was styling myself (or dreaming of styling myself) in whatever was trendy at the time. But when my family moved from the groovy East Village to the more conservative Summit, New Jersey, suddenly all of my street inspiration disappeared. There was nothing much to look at in that town (save for some beautiful trees and pretty houses). Most of the kids just wore practical play clothes like Levis and T-shirts. It was during this time that I became obsessed with fashion magazines like Seventeen, Vogue, and Mademoiselle, and books on style (especially the series by Francesco Scavullo). I spent hours poring over their glossy pages, fantasizing about being as effortlessly chic as the women in the pictures. I also loved musicI remember being beyond excited to bring in my parents Bette Midler album, The Divine Miss M, to second grade show-and-tell. I instructed Miss Conway to put the needle on the first song on side A. As a super-sexed-up version of Do You Want to Dance? blared through the portable record players single speaker, I noticed Miss Conway looking like she might pass out, and all of my classmates eyes glazing over. It suddenly occurred to me that I would spend the next several years surrounded by people who just didnt get it.
When I was about twelve, Id sit at home and make my own version of Saks and Bloomingdales catalogs, complete with all the copy and art (A. Gold-tone initial earrings, $12.50 B. Personalized cuff bracelet, $19.50 ). For me inspiration was everywhere except for my immediate, everyday surroundings. It came from being in the chic designer boutiques, and Loehmanns back room with my mom, and from the great movies that my parents took me toAnnie Hall, Manhattan, The Great Gatsby, All That Jazz, The Stingall of which showcased fashion and lifestyles in such a glamorous way.
I love good style, any kind of good style, and I get inspired by someone new every minutea Dead Head, a rich Italian lady I dont discriminate, as long as they put themselves together in a fabulous way. Whether their look is rock n roll, preppy, or even a little tacky, each of these people knows who they are and how they want to look, and I eat it up. I am not above following a girl down the street like a crazed stalker, just to get a closer look at her face or shoes or necklace. I have no shame.
Long before style blogs, people simply checked out each others look on the street. If you were lucky enough to, say, go to Paris or somewhere equally exotic style-wise, you could really come back with something special. Ive always paid close attention to everyone around me, from as early as age five, when I would stare at the cool hairdressers where my mom got her haircut, all the way up through high school, when my best friend and I would hang out in New York City and East Hampton and take in all the glamour of the locals and off-duty models. College was like one big live fashion blog, with thousands of fashion-forward girls trolling the campus at any given time. Then, when I landed my first job at a fashion magazine and stayed on that track for many years, life was one big fashion inspiration (hey, for one thing, I got to see everything way before the public did!).
But people-watching is nothing new. We all do it (and Im sure the Gibson girls, flappers, and bobby soxers all got inspiration from one another). Thats whats so great about stoops and cafs: They allow you to sit for hours while checking out everyone who walks by. All you have to do is hang out downtown to spot cool chicks with wild hair and leather jackets and youre suddenly compelled to go home and change out of your sensible corduroys and rain boots to rock something sexier and more fun. And truthfully, if not prepared, a trip up to the doctor on Madison and 87th makes me feel like, well, frankly, a dirtbag. One look at all those perfectly coiffed women with their $12,000 handbags and chic sunglasses and I get all confused again. Such is fashion and style. If you truly love it, you can appreciate all of it. I consider myself a gourmand of fashion. And thats what makes it so much fun.
So, this book is really a love letter to anyone who has ever made me do a double-take and wish that I could be in her shoes, even if only for a minute.
Andrea Linett
or
Grown-ups Get
All the Good Clothes
Growing up, we lived in a two-bedroom apartment in a six-story brick building on East Eighth Street in New York, where I shared a room with my older sister, Dana. Looking back, it seems quite fitting that at the time, the entire strip of Eighth Street between Sixth Avenue and Broadway was lined with fabulous shoe store after fabulous shoe store. It was where I snagged my first pair of mini yellow Olaf Daughters clogs and, later, my coveted high-school cowboy boots. Back then we really didnt have much money to spend on clothes, but what we did have was an industrious mom with great style.
My first shopping memory is of my mother taking us down the street to Casual Kids, a no-frills clothing store that was basically one big stockroom. There were no attractive mannequins or clever marketing displays to inspire us in any way; to shop here, you had to have imagination. Every last piece of clothing was unapologetically housed in clear wrap and jammed onto overly crowded metal bars. There were no dressing rooms, and we had to change in between the plastic-lined racks. Dana and I would each get a couple of cute outfits a season, and then for everything else, Mom got creative. She invented my favorite look, which she dubbed hot pants. This was basically a stylish euphemism for summer shorts with tights under them. But the idea alone was so alluring that in the morning when she yelled out, Who wants to wear hot pants? I knew it would be a good day. So what if I was in kindergarten? In my mind, hot pants gave me immediate far-out status!
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