The Ten Most Major Fashion Moments Of 2013

As Dakota Fanning says in a movie I have no intention of ever seeing, Now Is Good, “Life is a series of moments… Moments. All gathering toward this one.” It sounds really deep, seriously. 

True to Elder Fanning’s words, the Year In Fashion didn’t exactly deliver on a single major moment in which white girls with parents wealthy enough to bankroll their internships all literally died and actually couldn’t even deal right now. Instead, 2013 delivered a series of chic, small moments – small but not inconsequential – combining to form larger moments in time, all of them building to this: our Year In Review of The Top 10 Most Literally Major Fashion Moments Which Couldn’t Even Be Dealt With Then and Almost Certainly Can’t Even Be Handled Now.
Like the passage of tectonic plates, 2013 was a year defined by the at times laboriously slow movement of designers around the globe, resulting in imperceptible changes and small ripples, large fissures and continental collisions alike. Abroad, Jil Sander and Ann Demeulemeester alike announced their departures from their eponymous labels; Marc Jacobs also announced his departure as creative director from the house of Louis Vuitton after a sixteen year tenure, culminating in a spectacular swan song collection that was at once both fabulously moribund and fittingly nostalgic; and after months of silent speculation, Nicolas Ghesquière confirmed he would succeed Jacobs at the storied house with his predecessor’s blessing. 
At home, stalwart designer Lisa Ho announced the indefinite closure of her 30-year-old label after succumbing to involuntary admission. News of Ho’s exit was followed soon after by the closure of Collette Dinnigan’s eponymous label, and days later, sass & bide co-founders Heidi Middleton and Sarah Jane Clarke announced they had sold the remainder of their company to majority stakeholders Myer. Two weeks later, sass & bide’s compatriot Kit Willow Podgornik was unceremoniously terminated from the label she founded, capping off a kinda dang year also characterised by the international invasion of the Australian High Street. 
Photo: Pascal Le Segretain via Getty
Fashion’s love affair with sexy pop music continued unadulterated, as two of pop music’s largest diminutive divas [*punches self in face for non-ironic use of diva, and previously, fabulous*] dug their claws even deeper into the sweaty backs of an audience held captive by literally transparent shock tactics and foam fingers. Two words: Wrecking Ball.

Photo: Jason Merritt via Getty

With a new look and the newfound sexual liberty of an erstwhile child star shrugging off a long engagement and navigating the tumultuous waters of youth in the public eye – where water in this analogy is haterade and the public eye is the unmediated scorn of every jerk and his two cents – Miley Cyrus emerged as a new contender for fashion’s favourite pop tart, spitting in the hateradecurrying favour with her Met Gala date Marc Jacobsexperimenting with sideboob on the cover of V and threatening to look chic in an endless succession of red carpet appearances. She didn’t, however, #GETITALLRIGHT. Chanel on the one hand is okay; it’s not okay however to accessorise with African Americans, Miles. 
Meanwhile, Lady Gaga retained her high fashion credentials despite a widely-panned third album by not only signing on as the face of Versace but inventing the world’s first flying dress, while Katy Perry fizzled out like a cream-soaked firework, preferring Hillford blazers to blazing, pyrotechnic red carpet looks [*punches self again*]. Rihanna also continued to give zero phucks about all’a’y’all and made her London Fashion Week debut, kudos Ri. Heck, even Lorde was seen dipping a toe in the pond of the fashion industry’s fickle affections. In related news, Beyoncé, tho.

Photo: Robyn Beck via Getty


In the annals of human and canine history alike, MMXIII will forever be remembered as heralding a time in which it became possible not only for a dog to look more chic than you but an era in which a dog wearing people clothes became an enviable and viable business. Thank You Based Tumblr Gods.


Now seems like a good time as any to share my really cool story about how I saw Kate Moss in the flesh this year and can now confirm: girl still has it in spades. Need something more than (excellent) anecdotal evidence? I’ll point you in the direction of the almost-40-year-old’s 18-page centrefold in the 60th Anniversary Issue of Playboy, shot by esteemed fashion image-makers Mert Alas & Marcus Piggot, and styled by The Hand of God Himself, because naked. Yes, we hear you decrying the obvious use of Photoshop; yes, we probably couldn’t care less.  
Photo: Mert & Marcus


Australia’s most Bing’ed celebrity – that’s not a sex thing – Miranda Kerr has had a pretty frightful year when you break it down into SEO friendly terms, because if you haven’t figured it out by now, Kerr works. On the bright side, there was the reissue of her first self-help book under the guise of a totally new, second self-help book, in addition to her continued appearances on credible runways and in lucrative campaigns. There was also, sadly, the dissolution of her marriage to Prince of the Woodland Realm, Orlando Bloom, which no amount of archaic backwards anti-feminism could save; close encounters with death and cyber bullying; accusations of doctoring Instagram photos and the loss of high-profile, highly-bankable contracts with Victoria’s Secret and David Jones; that, and the being forced to wear a Qantas trench just to put Flynn through school and Kerr in headlines.
For Mandy more than most, Life itself is a fashion moment; each airbrushed vignette transitioning effervescently into the next, especially when that next moment (allegedly) involves doing sex things with James Packer.

Photo: Pascal Le Segretain via Getty


The 2013 Costume Institute Gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art – or ‘The Met Ball’ – was unanimously considered something of a bust after all but a few guest failed to live up to the evening’s dress code, as always in fitting with the accompanying fashion retrospective: PUNK – Chaos Meets Couture. The only punk thing about the whole protracted 1% populated Met Ball bukkake? Australian supermodelmusician and Mad Max sex slave Abbey Lee Kershaw making a sexy statement on the States’ dire lack of gun control laws. Major alert. 
Photo: ManiaMania


Photo: Larry Busacca via Getty


The kohl-eyed entirety of Carine Roitfeld’s Madamoiselle C; the film’s entire wardrobe budget being superseded by the cost of Cate Blanchett’s Birkin alone in Blue Jasmine; the liberal injection of Alexander McQueen in The Hunger Games: Catching Fire; the respectively chic and kitsch Opening Ceremony collaborations evolving from Spike Jonze’s Her and Harmony Korine’s Spring Breakers; the burgundy suits and finely-coiffed everything of Anchorman II. ‘Two thousand and thirteen was a stylish year for excellent fashion films and fashion in film alike,’ said a bunch of bloggers over brunch oblivious to how ridiculous they sounded as they took deep focus photographs of their kale quinoa cronuts.
Seriously though, there were some chic as sin movies this year, none more so than the equally divisive The Great Gatsby from Baz Luhrmann and Sofia Coppola’s The Bling Ring: two films with an explicit #fashion undercurrent and superb art direction. With costumes provided exclusively by Miuccia Prada and Brooks Brothers, Gatsby’s Catherine Martin delighted in stylish anachronism and a sartorial excess befitting the characters’ gaping lack of morality. The Bling Ring’s Stacey Battat replicated a similar excess to compensate for the film’s ethical vacuum, remaining faithful not only to the Kitson-clad, Valley Girl juicy couture of the celebrity targeting syndicate but also to that of the super rich kids whose houses they plundered for a coterie of labels including Rick Owens, Herve Leger, Versace, Roberto Cavalli, McQueen, Balenciaga, Bulgari and Chanel.

Most importantly, however, was the crucial addition of six inch Louboutins, tweed skirts and four inch little brown Bebe shoes. $29!

With an increasing number of large-scale print publications lying down to catch up indefinitely on their beauty sleep (shout out to my colleague James for that one) and some not lying down to die at all, the year has seen its share of triumphs and tragedies in the Quarter Quell arena of print media. Bauer Media’s Grazia bowed out early in the year, followed soon after by the German juggernaut’s Madison magazine. More recently at Bauer, the merger of Dolly and Cleo’s staff signalled a dire need to downsize on the scale of mastheads and payrolls alike, all in the name of cost-cutting synergy. 
Conversely, 2013 has been a great year for quality print publications, many of them independent, with Monster Children celebrating its tenth year in hardcopy, burgeoning bi-continental Brace launching between Sydney and New York and Manuscript last week celebrating their second anniversary with their excellent eighth issue. From the major players, Elle launched their debut Australian iteration and Vogue responded in kind, bringing their sublime little sister Miss Vogue to the table. Game on, molls.  

And especially this:

Photo: Kevin Winter/Jason Merritt via Getty

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Lead photo by Timothy A. Clary via Getty