Style Muse: Rock 'n' Roll Night Club (Saint Laurent SS15)

"I like your stye. A little Bowie, a little Bardot, and a look on your face that says I could kick the shit out of a truck driver" - Michael Shannon as Kim Fowley in The Runaways (2010)

Saint Laurent's Menswear SS15 bohemian street kid collection has forced me to practice my deep breathing skills way too often recently. Each one of the 68 looks in this collection has something notable to revel upon thanks to the designer Heidi Slimane. Allusions to The Ramones, Jimi Hendrix, Robert Mapplethorpe, Patti Smith, Mick Jagger, and even Nikolai Fraiture seemed to flood my brain with this assemblage. Copious amounts of silver chains, paisley prints, oxblood velvets, fluid chiffons, cowhide leather, and intricate gems adorn each wearer in an almost ritualistic fashion. And to top it off, all of the models wearing the designs were unapologetically young and full of (s)punk. 

When I first saw these designs I immediately thought of The Runaways club scene. The biopic of the '70s all girl rock band - fronted by Joan Jett and Cherie Currie - starts at its origins when Kim Fowley (Michael Shannon) scouts out the underage Cherie Currie (Dakota Fanning) at a nightclub. With freshly bleached hair, a Bowie shag cut, severe blush contouring and a smart neck scarf - Cherie sips from a bottle of Mountain Dew fantastically all alone. That is how I envision all of these muses: night club wall huggers that know something you don't.

Another notable attribute to this collection is that Hedi Slimane effectively expresses the "bohemian" style without falling into traditional tropes and appropriations. You might see fringe, but you don't see ridiculous Native American moccasin rip-offs. Some of the models wear blanket ponchos, but are void of stereotypical "southwestern" prints. Instead of lazily browsing the '70s western influenced trends, Slimane dives deep into every fabric and accessory's lineage, so it appears. To put it simply: this collection is smart. 

(Runway photos from Style.com)

What sent me over the edge was the reference to '70s glam culture, notably headed by Bowie himself. You can find it in very small ways. My favorite was through the footwear worn by one of the female models, silver lace-up metallic boots peppered with dazzling red stars (subdued by an oversized printed pant). The glam emerges again through certain blazers, subtly in the velvet ensembles, and more pronounced in the later more flashy looks. Something about the silver and red pin stripe blazer reminded me of carnival season in the best way possible.

(The Runways, Cherie center w/ Bowie inspired metallic jumpsuit)
 (Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, Cherie Currie)

The collection in its entirety was impressive. Although I prefer a little more glam rock to my bohemian taste, it is undeniable that this body of work was completely successful. I enjoyed the intricacy of the  pieces and it was fun seeing such a young crowd of models bring them to life (ex. Jack Kilmer, see my Palo Alto Film Muse here). Although the line was debuted for Spring and Summer 2015, I know what my upcoming fall wardrobe will be inspired by.

-Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion 

Rock 'n' Roll Night Club Tunes



Summer in the city is winding down, yet somehow I just started to notice the sound of crickets outside my window. Like clockwork, they faithfully come out to help lull the world into sleep as the sun sets, eventually stopping around 3 am signaling the time for universal rest. But instead of complete silence the crickets are replaced by distant revving motorcycles from the highway not too far away. Every now and then bass music will bleed through the window of a car passing, or a teen will whizz by on their bike.  Life electrically goes on until the sun rises, at least it seems that way right now.

Like most, I'm grasping for what's left. What I didn't do with all my spare time. Like driving down with my windows open, listening to my favorite movie soundtracks. Or walking the dog past that one garage with the R.V. parked out in front, shielding the man drinking beer and watching television inside. Even the humid and foggy air is energized, particles flurrying into each other under parking lot street lights. Everything is still so alive. 

(personal film stills)

With the announcement of my end to making Youtube videos for the foreseeable future (see post here), I've been cultivating my former interests once again. That includes editing old footage (see above), using my library card (Just Kids by Patti Smith, From Reverence to Rape by Molly Haskell), and I even broke out my mom's old records, collaging to Elvis' live Memphis sessions.
Watching Twin Peaks again (in proper moderation) was probably the best decision I've made since my last blog post. The over saturated colors, filmic grain, and the peculiar performances of all of the actors is wondrous. Watching Twin Peaks feels so rewarding. If you can make it through the pilot you feel like you've reached a new level of zen. I recommend one episode before you go to bed each night to foster a healthy imagination. 

It just feels so nice to do things for yourself. To not feel like you have to share what you're doing. No pressure, no prying eyes, just learning time. I've been thinking about my beliefs, my experiences, and my future in such new ways. And for once none of them require the approval of others.

A friend and I did some long exposure night shots recently and I discovered a new appreciation for photographers (cinematographers as well). The craft is intense. Even if you have good taste, capturing  an intriguing image isn't always easy. It takes experience to know certain angles and techniques off the top of your head. I think about cinematographers, how they'll map out a whole scene, omitting hundreds of options and sifting for the most interesting shots. There are so many perspectives to choose from, and what you choose defines the overall tone and accessibility of the film. You can certainly ruin it, that's for sure. That is why I feel so appreciative of Twin Peaks - because not only is the set design/shot list greatly meticulous, but everyone involved plays an integral part in creating the fantasy world that centers around Laura Palmer. 

 This aesthetically driven world could easily be corrupted. The wrong hair style, the wrong paint color, a line performed unconvincingly. Just watch the pilot, you'll see what I mean. Yet somehow David Lynch seams everything together without noticeable flaws. And usually that would be intimating to most artists, that level of perfection, but for right now it is just plain inspiring. 

Sometimes we jump into things that we connect with because we feel it in our bones. We sit down, open up a blank page, grab our favorite pen - and nothing comes out. Then we sit there wondering if we had anything in us at all to begin with. When really... we just don't know the steps of breaking through. And sometimes, we arrogantly brush off what we should learn in order to do so, which ultimately leads to stagnant progress. 

Although you might not be 'On' 100% of the time, I've learned it's important to roll with good vibes when you have them. Learn the steps that will bring clarity into making what you want to make, saying what you want to say. And if you need to bask in the haziness of inspiration and uncertainty, by all means do it - and enjoy it. 

Part of me wishes I could go back to that blog post (A Four Part Goodbye) and rewrite it. Perhaps I'd make it more eloquent, less frank. But I don't regret writing it at all, and I want to say thank you to those who supported my decision on my various social media sites. Also, I wanted to say thank you to those who said they'd still support my other endeavors, which is really saying something since I don't know if I have anything to give right now.

I can see myself posting on this blog like I have been, perhaps including more of my own art as well (a podcast has also been thrown into the idea mix). But all I really know right now is that I'm going to invest in myself again.

Cheers to good vibes and a new school year. 

Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion

Hazy Tunes


A Four Part Goodbye

I'm not sure how I want to start this.
But maybe saying just that is the best way to begin.

As most of you Curbside Fashion readers may know, I've been making Youtube videos about thrifted fashion for a few years now on my self-titled channel: Lauren Rose (JustACurbsideProphet). During the school year, I had a Wake Magazine interview that alluded to the following words I'm about to express. As grateful as I am for everyone who has encouraged me, upon recently hitting 50,000+ subscribers I've become overwhelmed with guilt and weariness about my future on the internet. I knew this post was a long time coming, but recently I've decided to finally put things to rest.

Thin, rich, pretty

The allure of recognition

The Mac DeMarco epiphany

The perceivable end to my Youtube videos


I wanted to be thin, rich and pretty. Simple as that. 
When people ask me why I started Youtube I usually twist that answer, replying how I wanted to share my 'passion for fashion' instead of saying the honest truth. I was so young when I started posting videos on Youtube, I was naive.  

Of course, I have to preface this by saying that this is not a rant about Youtube culture. This is me explaining my experience growing up on the internet wanting some kind of fame, and relatively achieving it - and how it has changed who I am (for better and worse). When I stumbled upon the Beauty Community, I was not in the best place in my life. My circumstances were pretty rough, on top of puberty, and I wanted to find a way to escape. I saw these beautiful girls who could afford everything I couldn't, who had seamless Ikea rooms and expensive/excessive amounts of makeup. I yearned to be one of them, or at least yearned to live through them. I was actually ready to throw in the towel shortly after starting my first makeup and beauty themed videos. I realized that I could never be one of those girls. Not only was it financially impossible to copy them- I also couldn't morph my face and body to satisfy my fucked up standards of beauty I'd created. 

Shortly after, Jenn and Sarah from ClothesEncounters entered and redefined the Beauty Community scene - proving that you could shop humbly and still have a killer sense of style. Jenn and Sarah were stunningly fresh and witty - yet also extremely relatable. Their hipster style was just entering the mainstream market and they were simply magnetic together. If it weren't for Jenn and Sarah, I would have stopped making my content all together. To this day, I owe my rise in confidence to both young women and I will always support their endeavors (hey Jenn!). As I started modeling my video content after theirs, I found a new high in video making and it was life changing. I felt like a rebel, posting videos sharing my thrifted clothing finds (remember when thrifting wasn't cool?), dawning ripped tights and terribly cut shirts.  When I started being sent clothing for free by companies, I couldn't believe my luck. To this day I have $200 dollar shoes sitting in my closet that I hardly wear that were gifted to me. Suddenly I started to get more views and followers, although I never could quite amount to my predecessors.  I guess that is where things started to go wrong. 

You see, Youtube can make you feel incredibly useful and important, and it can also make you feel like dog shit. As my view counts flattened out, my confidence issues came back. Sometimes I'd film an entire video and never upload it because I thought I looked terrible in a certain take. My fashion lookbook videos, which were by far my most popular and requested, made me cringe while filming them. I never got to the production level that I desired, and didn't want to push myself to attain it either. Of course there were highs and lows. My Lauren Gets Deep videos were always genuine, and my thrifted finds did indeed bring me joy. But something about putting myself out onto the internet constantly was wearing away at me.

 I slowly began to realize that I preferred to be behind the camera, and that I needed to sort out my own issues before I put myself through the affliction of filming. I felt like a fraud talking about body positivity when I couldn't even stand to watch some of my older videos, or even film newer ones. The money generated from my videos was realistically a nice benefit, but slowly I realized that the only means to my income were coming from the views of my face, my clothes, and my body. I started to feel trapped and desperate.  I'd been receiving such love and respect from new and old followers, but I knew that in my heart making videos did not make me happy.

(Tavi Gevinson by Petra Collins)


The allure of fame is something that most well known people don't talk about, understandably. I mean, we all ditched our "I want to be famous!" dreams when we were 10 years old, at least, we stopped saying it out loud. I think about that a lot. 

Even when I stopped vibing with my own Youtube videos, I kept them up in hopes that they would lead me to some glorious opportunity. One summer I discovered Tavi Gevinson (founder of Rookie Magazine) and Petra Collins during one of my Youtube lulls, and I was astounded by the similarities in taste that Tavi and I had. We both shared a transcendent love for The Virgin Suicides and her writing pinpointed my feelings in an eerily similar way. She would do these photo shoots that I completely fell in love with, but would never have the confidence to do myself. I understood her aesthetic so well, I was ecstatic upon discovering her. But something hollow started to seep in. 

Tavi seemed to have a certain freedom that I longed for myself. She could express her love for things in ways that I only dreamed of. The Rookie Mag collaboration was the kind of outlet that I had been looking for my whole life. I had come close to expressing the vibes we shared in my videos, but I didn't ever do it as she did, it seemed.  Tavi had this weird spunky ambition that I lost a very long time ago. While I was busy trying to become notable by making videos that I didn't quite believe in, Tavi was out there doing exactly what she envisioned. And instead of inspiring me, it messed me up. This whole time I was chasing this idea of fame (recognition/respect) and I got it - but not for what I wanted. I was stressed, insecure, and unsure.

Even though Tavi's success crumpled my own at the time, I am glad it happened that way. Discovering Tavi's youthful passion and realizing how much I missed out on my own adolescence forced me to reevaluate what was important in my life. I slowly started making less Youtube videos and started focusing on activism, film, and live VJ-ing. My original passions resurfaced, and I'm still nursing them to this day. It feels like I'm starting all over, and I'm okay with that. 


Then there was the Mac Demarco epiphany. My friend Nyala and went to the sold out 7th Street Entry show earlier this summer. First in line, baby! We both had been fans for a while, vibing with Mac's odd caricature of a personality and dreamy guitar riffs. He seemed so bizarre, watching his VHS style music videos online. A cult singer, who's fan base comprises of chain-smoking hipsters who would probably get his signature tattooed on their ass if given the ample opportunity.

As Nyala and I waited for the doors to open, Mac himself came outside for a smoke (go figure). Suddenly, I got all clammy. I didn't expect to meet him, nor would I have if given a chance (shout out to ANXIETY). He looked so strange, all 3D and such. His gap was... gap-y. He was shorter than I'd imagined, but his clothes were as normcore as I'd imagined. Slowly but surely floppy haired kids surrounded him, trying to casually make conversation. Very sly.

We decided we'd probably kick ourselves if we didn't say 'hi', so slowly but surely we both got up from our spots to talk to the famed Mac DeMarco himself. As we shook hands and began to talk, it dawned on me that I literally had nothing to say to him. Strangely, it wasn't out of anxiety - rather I realized that he was just a normal guy. He is one of those kids that I'd meet at a house party and share a beer with. But I don't know him. I don't know anything about him first hand, yet there we all were, low-key swarming him .... to experience what? 

I couldn't believe how naive I'd been about celebrities, especially musicians like Mac. As we talked about my Menards shirt I felt totally calm. As the gig eventually started, his bro fans went crazy (drunkenly screaming for "Viceroy") and shoved their way to the front of the stage relentlessly. It sort of killed my vibe, actually. 

The Mac DeMarco epiphany will always be a prevalent turning point in how I see things. It's not just a lesson on how we perceive celebrities... it's a lesson on how we see all unattainable things. You know: dreams, careers, projects, etc. Why are we so afraid of them? Maybe if we started to see them as more accessible ambitions/people we wouldn't hold ourselves back as much. Fear. That is the root of it. 


The three photos above have a lot of meaning to me. They all show some kind of growth that I've had in this past year.

1. The first photo is of an oak tree that I'd lie under while skipping my College Algebra class.  During that fall semester I'd spread out my grandmother's crochet blanket and relish the warmth of the sun, the buzz of the new school year. I knew that time would escape quickly in a month or two, when everything would begin to freeze over and become harder, so skipping a class or two (or more) felt okay. What I didn't quite know then was that that fall semester was a major turning point in my life. It was the first time that I felt like I belonged at college, at least spatially. I was just forming the strongest friendships of my life during that time, and if I knew how far I'd come emotionally - I wouldn't have believed it. I'd lay there looking up at the twinkling leaves for hours, listening to Bob Dylan and the American Beauty soundtrack, sincerely enjoying life for what seemed like the first time in a while.

2. The second photo was of my wall tapestry in my dorm room. On it I had pinned numerous photos: Dakota Fanning as Cherie Currie, Rose McGowan, a Run Lola Run still, a crude drawing of Stewart Pickles falling into a time warp whilst making pudding for Angelica at 3 in the morning. I loved waking up to all of these images that I found inspiring for some reason or another. They reminded me of my personal identity, and that I did indeed have one.

3. Lastly, the third photo is of the windowsill in my old bedroom at my parent's house. On it lies a picture of Julian Casablancas, one that used to be taped on the inside of my high school locker. Although most people don't associate positive experiences with high school (I surely didn't), I can start to feel the appreciation sink in. I'm starting to remember old crushes I had, the art room I spent so much of my time in, and the electricity that filled the air when school started and ended.

And I guess that is what I feel now as well: electricity. I can't say what will happen to me on the internet. I still want to continue writing on this blog and posting on Tumblr and Twitter. But for right now, I don't see myself coming back to Youtube anytime soon. And as I'm typing up these words at 3:58 am, let it be known that I am not writing this in a feverish state. These years have shaped me immensely, and I want to thank everyone who has ever sent me a kind message. And thank you right now for reading this sentence. And this one. Thank you to everyone who will continue to follow my pursuits, regardless of me not showing up in your Youtube inbox. I will cherish all of our moments, and this will not be the last of me.

-Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion