People have shit taste. Or rather they’ve got the same taste as everyone else, so they’re confused into thinking it’s good. The same, homogenised, spoon-fed taste. You can see it in deadpan grey John Lewis pillow cases. It’s the unread Mondrian art book (concealing a pile of well thumbed Grazias) and boneheaded inspirational phases framed by antiqued fleur de lis. It’s bathroom contraptions in white wicker and big wooden letters spelling out EAT or SLEEP. It’s the random dusting of tat from Oliver Bonas or Urban Outfitters (because modern?). Amazingly even though everyone lives like this, people still consider their taste their own. They actually believe themselves individuals when it comes to taste. People eh?
Seems to me that there isn’t really good taste and bad taste. There’s just what everyone is doing and whatever is different to that. To my mind, whatever is different, is usually more interesting. Hence this robe.
That it’s ludicrous is neither here nor there. It’s different. Most people would consider it ugly. And you can’t buy it in The White Company. (The latter being a pretty good barometer to live by.) I think it’s astonishing. Utterly useless. Nigh on unwearable. Yet rudely essential.
It’s from Needles, the arm of Japanese super-label Nepenthes seemingly devoted to the unreasonable. It’s 250 quid and currently only available at Digital Mountain in Japan.
As someone shortly to be taking receipt of a new home, I would very much like this garment for use in and (vaguely) around the property. I would do the dishes in it. Make toast in it. And if there were few people about, put the bins out in it. It would make me feel extremely different; as I potter about straightening my inspirational phrases.