Fear and Clothing

July 13, 2015
Wilson (A Massive Swelling), a former New York Times columnist, takes readers on a tour of America’s wardrobes, showing that our nation’s sartorial decisions are more than the simple donning of clothing each morning before work. Instead, these choices are as much about the communities we live in as they are about personal identity. In the nation’s capital, for instance, the region’s inhabitants “tend to dress very defensively. Their overprotective office-wear essentially serves as both camouflage and psychological body armor.” Wilson describes the Southern woman’s arsenal of poise, from big pearls and imperturbable hair to their expectations that “if women... aren’t using our femininity strategically, we just aren’t being smart.” Though Wilson’s cultural insights are not always profound (when describing the scantily clad actresses attending a film festival in winter, she writes, “Their fashion statements were supreme sacrifices of comfort that whimpered: Cast me: I have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever”), her sharp tongue, sardonic wit, and philosophical detours keep the journey entertaining. Agent: Bill Clegg, the Clegg Agency.

July 15, 2015
Irreverent, outspoken culture critic Wilson (Caligula for President: Better American Living Through Tyranny, 2008, etc.) charts the "discovery of my own fashion evolution" through an American road trip. Armed with her unique talent for biting observational wizardry, the author embarked on a cross-country walkabout to gain new perspectives on fashion's impact "with as little an impression as possible going in." She approached this journey with the same modest naivete as when perusing uptight Soho and Madison Avenue boutiques to offer an outsider's perspective for the New York Times "Critical Shopper" column. Before decrypting the unique couture dress codes throughout America's "belt regions" (Cotton, Rust, Bible, etc.), Wilson offers background on her formative years growing up in the 1970s on a houseboat in the Bay Area, where her artistic appreciation for the punk scene and the "magic of garments" was born. Fitted into her finest black, monotone clothing, Wilson's first stops included Washington, D.C., where restrictive, formal business wear and "confrontational cleanliness" rules; high-end consignment shops in modestly draped Salt Lake City; and one of the author's funniest inspections (aside from a piece relentlessly dehumanizing Los Angeles culture): the mini-monokini versus moneyed white-jeaned aesthetic of Miami Beach, where "the only good iguana is a pink belt." Midway through, Wilson digresses to address the 2009 fiasco surrounding a painfully honest yet offensively inciting column she wrote criticizing a new J.C. Penney flagship store for manufacturing polyester clothing "five times larger than any large you've ever seen." The article's backlash seemingly fueled her anxiety about traipsing further into Midwestern states like Iowa and camouflage-heavy Kansas. Ultimately, there's an undeniable sense that little falling outside of Wilson's own gothic "crypto-sadist" uniform is deemed passable, with the remaining scraps merely fashion roadkill. Nevertheless, her deliciously snarky ode to American fashion is unceasingly entertaining. Prime sartorial satire for fashionistas aching for a dose of comic relief. Few write as bitingly about pop culture as Wilson.

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September 1, 2015

Previously a contributor to the "Critical Shopper" column of the New York Times, Wilson debuts with a sociological travelog documenting style throughout the United States, journeying from Washington, DC, to her native San Francisco and on to Hollywood, Miami, and Brooklyn, with stops at the Kentucky Derby and the Sundance Film Festival. Along the way, the author considers faux military attire; fetish clothing; and "masstige," in which luxury brands collaborate with mass-market stores (e.g., Versace at H&M, Vera Wang at Kohl's), noting that fashion has stagnated in the past ten years, whereas each decade in the 20th century was indicative of a specific trend. Successfully arguing that our desires are tailored to us, Wilson examines the origins of Victoria's Secret and high-end lingerie shops, the commercialization of goth culture, and hip-hop's love affair with fashion. At times, it's uncomfortable to read Wilson's judgments about women's body sizes even while she claims she is not fat-bashing. Her derision of "ubiquitous" brands such as Ann Taylor and championing of luxury designers is intended to be snarky but awkwardly comes across as elitism. Yet, Wilson convincingly asserts that wealth defines fashion, fashion reflects politics, and "we are at our most naked when we have our most deliberately selected clothes on." VERDICT For skinny thrift store lovers who would never set foot in a department store or boutique shop unless absolutely necessary.--Stephanie Sendaula, Library Journal

Copyright 2015 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from September 15, 2015
Jack Kerouac's On the Road is the inspiration for New York Citybased Cintra Wilson, a former columnist for the New York Times, the San Francisco Examiner, and Salon. It's another fun and funny book that looks at people's different takes on fashion based on where they live and other demographics. Her observations will cause many heads to nod: She dubs Kansas the gun belt, home of oversized clothing and camouflage outfits. Scarlett O'Hara comes full circle with Wilson's descriptions of the long-haired, full-cleavage motherly look. And, of course, San Francisco becomes the macrame belt, from Sausalito houseboats to drag queens (not to mention Haight-Ashbury). Her typologies are perfect; her writing, even better. A few excerpts: Still, what became the biggest fashion revelation during my trip to Miami was the contents of my own suitcase . . . . Jesus . . . is there anything you brought that isn't black?' Or of her time in Northern California: Counterintuitively enough, in becoming an overnight punk poseur, I became a more authentic version of myself . . . Punk rock . . . spoke to something restless, impulsive and contrary in me (now recognized as ADHD). . . Wilson ultimately recognizes that there's much merit in to thine own self be true and supplies four tricks to make that happen. Fashion is permission, pure and simple.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2015, American Library Association.)