Celebrating the Fashionably Unstable

In the Spring 2008 issue of The New York Times Style Magazine: Women’s Fashion, an article entitled “Certifiably Chic” commented upon the style industry and the American media’s current celebration of mental instability. Characterized as an aesthetic of “Demented Chic,” it applauds unwashed hair, a messy dishabille worthy of asylum inmates, and pays homage to “women on the verge” like Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton (or Mary-Kate Olsen, if you’re not literarily-inclined). A self-conscious appreciation for all things tragic and pathetic is a necessary accessory.

Upon discovering this article, I immediately ripped it out, mounted it on cardstock, and hung it up on my wall next to my favorite images of model Sasha Pivovarova, looking bewildered and sleep-deprived in Prada’s spring 2008 advertising campaign. Finally, I thought, someone else (and a respectable someone else at that - thank you, New York Times Magazine) has acknowledged the attraction of the woman-succumbing-to-insanity archetype. The American media has always been drawn to these women, if only for the opportunity to deride and ridicule them (consider the past year’s media coverage of Britney’s crack-up). However, does this article signify a shift in popular attitudes towards insanity? Are mental health problems making the move from taboo to tolerated, or even celebrated with irony?

How about this example, from the Thanksgiving episode of the CW’s Gossip Girl:

Serena: “Look at you, quite the chipper sous-chef.”
Blair: “Well I’m in a good mood. It happens. Sometimes because I increase my Lexapro…”

I am willing to overlook the fact that a slight increase in daily Lexapro intake does not have an immediately discernible effect on one’s mood (I speak from experience here), largely because of the secret, perhaps perverse delight I had upon hearing the deliciously conniving Blair Waldorf casually admit to taking psychiatric meds. While I may not traipse around the Upper East side outfitted head to toe in Tory Burch, complimented by an endless supply of frilly headbands, or spend my weeknights “dancing on tables at Bungalow 8,” the fictional Blair and I do have something in common: Lexapro, one of the newest, and clearly the chicest, of anti-depressants.

As much as I love Blair, my favorite contender by far for pseudo-fucked-up-woman-of-the-year is Fiona Apple, although to be fair the year in question is 1997. "Criminal" is the most frequently watched music video on my ipod. If you haven't seen it, youtube it now. This is my ode to the 18 year old Fiona Apple slinking around half-dressed, looking malnourished and singing quite erotically about her unfortunate tendency to be a "bad girl." It's very sexy. Fiona Apple is, if kind of crazy, also kind of brilliant. Another great depressed and brilliant mind: Dorothy Parker. Famous for her witticisms and sharp humor, Parker knew how to live well (if recklessly) and write well. A refrain for the alcoholic in all of us:

"I wish I could drink like a lady,
I'll have one or two at the most.
Three and I'm under the table,
Four and I'm under the host."

So here's a toast, to shamelessly embracing your inner tragic waif. And on that note, check out Elizabeth Wurtzel's articles in the Crimson archives, circa 1989. They're hilarious, and will make you wish people could still say these things at Harvard, if at least for the entertainment value.