Untangling the history and mystery of scarves
Hop Couture
Once you've found the perfect selection of scarfwear, it is, of course, necessary to know the proper way to tie them. There are two methods that look most chic. The French toss works best with a longer, skinnier scarf. Simply toss one end of the scarf over your opposite shoulder and you'll be halfway to Paris before you know it.
The second method is a bit more complicated. I've yet to come across a name for it, so I'll refer to it as the double cross. Start by draping the scarf on your shoulders with the midpoint of the U touching your throat.
Make sure that the position of it is somewhat asymmetrical (like a lopsided U).
Now toss each end over the opposite shoulder, having the ends land in front of you now, this being essentially the first cross. Take the longer side hanging down and wrap it around your neck once more as the second cross. Finish by tying a knot with the two free ends.
If done properly, the double cross should layer itself in three levels and cover the full length of your neck. Tuck the ends into a buttoned up overcoat (of complementary color, of course), and you've reached the pinnacle of style.
These two techniques are by no means the best or only ways to present yourself. The fashion-forward look to emulate runway styles, but the deep-thinking fashionista creates an original look, unique to only him or her, enigmatic and impossible to mimic.
We now arrive at my conclusion. Why did people of Shakespeare's time wear such ridiculous articles of fashion, and why do we continue to wear the ruff's successors? The Shakespearean were judgmental and pretentious, as are the inhabitants of the greater portion of the Western and Eastern hemispheres today. The ruff, however, was more than a symbol of status; it was a tool for presenting oneself to the world.
Glance at any portrait or photograph from the late 16th or early 17th century and you will see that the picture shows only the head sitting on a ruff. It is this representation, this framing of the head that has lasted half a millennium and will last hundreds more. The ruff was utilized to frame the wearer's head upon the shoulders, distinguishing him or her from the crowd. Today's small fashion community pays continual homage to the ruff by framing themselves with fresh, innovative scarves and neckwear. The unsuspecting public who wear the scarf as a mechanism of protection from the cold are doing the same without knowing the origins or the psychology behind their warm and fuzzy knitwear.
With these stones of knowledge in your pockets go forth and set yourself apart, frame your head, distinguish your face from the crowd. Shakespeare was been mistaken; we cannot all be merely players on this worldly stage, with bland exits and entrances; for life is too short to conform.
The second method is a bit more complicated. I've yet to come across a name for it, so I'll refer to it as the double cross. Start by draping the scarf on your shoulders with the midpoint of the U touching your throat.
Make sure that the position of it is somewhat asymmetrical (like a lopsided U).
Now toss each end over the opposite shoulder, having the ends land in front of you now, this being essentially the first cross. Take the longer side hanging down and wrap it around your neck once more as the second cross. Finish by tying a knot with the two free ends.
If done properly, the double cross should layer itself in three levels and cover the full length of your neck. Tuck the ends into a buttoned up overcoat (of complementary color, of course), and you've reached the pinnacle of style.
These two techniques are by no means the best or only ways to present yourself. The fashion-forward look to emulate runway styles, but the deep-thinking fashionista creates an original look, unique to only him or her, enigmatic and impossible to mimic.
We now arrive at my conclusion. Why did people of Shakespeare's time wear such ridiculous articles of fashion, and why do we continue to wear the ruff's successors? The Shakespearean were judgmental and pretentious, as are the inhabitants of the greater portion of the Western and Eastern hemispheres today. The ruff, however, was more than a symbol of status; it was a tool for presenting oneself to the world.
Glance at any portrait or photograph from the late 16th or early 17th century and you will see that the picture shows only the head sitting on a ruff. It is this representation, this framing of the head that has lasted half a millennium and will last hundreds more. The ruff was utilized to frame the wearer's head upon the shoulders, distinguishing him or her from the crowd. Today's small fashion community pays continual homage to the ruff by framing themselves with fresh, innovative scarves and neckwear. The unsuspecting public who wear the scarf as a mechanism of protection from the cold are doing the same without knowing the origins or the psychology behind their warm and fuzzy knitwear.
With these stones of knowledge in your pockets go forth and set yourself apart, frame your head, distinguish your face from the crowd. Shakespeare was been mistaken; we cannot all be merely players on this worldly stage, with bland exits and entrances; for life is too short to conform.
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