I was gone…I was working on a live event and a NEVERWORNS episode with beloved Vogue writer Plum Sykes…now I’m back. Below is a bit about why I love Plum’s writing. Also, here is the audio from our in-person talk. That NEVERWORNS episode is coming this week.
What a rush…I chatted with Plum Sykes for the first NEVERWORNS Live! event on Thursday. Some background: Plum’s Vogue articles from the ‘90s and early ‘00 are the Old Testament for fashion writers. Her “Fashion Fiction” section was the inspiration for her first novel Bergdorf Blondes (2004). We held NEVERWORNS Live! at Nine Orchard. Unbelievably thankful for production by Starkman & Associates who also produced Sale of the Century. (A Starkman touch for Le Plum? Pin-thin Carpi cigarettes as party favors). The PR was by Conti Communications. We were powered by Banana Republic’s delicious cashmere and suede, along with the buzzy watch brand Breda.
There are some incredible moments from the conversation: Sykes opening up about what it can feel like to be an outsider (she was not raised in New York, the Cotswolds, or London), getting to American Vogue (guess what the only acceptable flat was in that sleek ‘98 office?), how her studies at Oxford shaped her writing style (she didn’t even want to go into fashion!), the best writing practices (nix the Word!), and more (so much more).
So why did I want to interview Plum? She writes with an unbridled freedom that only exists within the big-budget glory years of magazines. (Note: I still see glimpses of that style sometimes!) Of course, that era of more moolah and less internet will never return, though I can’t help but feel nostalgic for a time I never lived, especially today when the demands of the internet are exhausting and choke the brain. Plus, sometimes the state of media can feel like a shroud of existential doom: Under the pressure to churn something—anything!—out, I don’t feel as if I am out in the world. I am existing, not living.
That is where Plum comes in. Her articles are a reprieve from that “must-produce” grip. This woman lived in her clothes, wore down her spindly heels, got the cuticle-shearing manicures, and had the blunt-edged haircuts. And she wrote about it all in Vogue, quite amusingly and hilariously. In the BBC documentary Boss Women (2000), Vogue Editor-in-Chief Anna Wintour notes that she wants Plum out in the world, not soldered to her office chair. This was also when a writer could marinate on an article for eons, which meant countless back-and-forth edits and relentless fact-checkers. This was also a time with idling black cars, indoor smoking, and bottomless corporate cards. Regardless of the fun privileges of that period, Plum’s writing reminds us to be out in the world.
I also love that Plum is not a technical fashion writer. (She admits she is a horrible reviewer, too!) Plum writes how she sees things; a chic stream of consciousness. One of the best examples of her style is seen in the Helmut Newton-shot November 1998 Vogue piece titled “The Shoe Game.” Plum reports on the rise of designer shoes geared toward comfort (Chanel hiking boots! Sporty Pradas!) while chronicling her glamorous yet painful footwear collection. She has three pairs that she rotates: sensible Tods to get her from her apartment to the taxi that will get her to work (A taxi? To work? Imagine that!), sturdy yet slender mid-heel Jimmy Choos for the Vogue office, and then finally, megawatt Sergio Rossi crystal-trimmed mules for an evening event, all of which she stuffs into her “deformed bag.”
The little fancy foot section, which is real yet all the bit glam, shows that Plum has a way of being above it all and yet in the thick of it. While none of us are Plum Sykes, we’ve all been Plum Sykes in this situation. We’ve teetered to an Uber in vertiginous heels because we can’t walk anymore. We’ve even stuffed our bag with an extra pair for later. We’ve all done that pain-is-beauty shoe dance. The article is relatable, and while this topic has been written about before, Plum has a knack for escorting the reader into this untouchable world of fashion with a wink and a curtsy—and in this case, maybe a burgeoning bunion.
I feel a tidal longing when I read Plum’s pieces, and that vacancy has nothing to do with the aforementioned Jimmy Choos, being able to smoke indoors, or a perpetually expensed idling black car—although that would be nice. It’s more that I never wanted to write about Jimmy Choo heels from afar, but instead, write about what it truly feels like to wear them out in the world.
Stay tuned for the next #NEVERWORNS video of Plum and me going through her most prized pieces.
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