A piece of flash fiction by yours truly. Enjoy!
Spots are the new black.
I don’t know how that got started. The same way any fashion gets started, I suppose. Somebody shows up wearing such-and-such a thing, and it’s probably seven shades of ridiculous, but they wear it with such confidence that everyone assumes it’s the clothes that did it.
The clothes make the man, right? Or the woman. Or the up-and-coming fashionista child. I guess the clothes really do help to make that last one; can’t have a fashionista without fashion; that’s just ista, isn’t it? Generally, though, how you clothe yourself has no bearing on the person you are. You don what you do because you’re you, and your attire’s just an outer reflection of that.
Say you’re someone important. Is it because you’re wearing a coat with big brass buttons and a hat up to there? No, that’s what you wear to show you’re important – or someone who wishes he were, and is hoping to fool the rest of us. You ask me, the only fool’s the one in that mile-high hat. But nobody did ask me. They ought to have. I may not understand the why of fashion, but I always know the what. So when I say that spots are the new black, you can take that to the bank.
“The new black”… I’d certainly like to know how that expression got started. I mean, I can see why a color would aspire to be black. It’s chic, slimming, goes with all the colors… because of course it is all the colors, mixed all together. Black, the everycolor! But then, so’s white. Why not call a thing “the new white”? Don’t tell me it was after Labor Day. No one buys that rubbish rule anymore. If anything, wearing white after Labor Day is the new black.
Spots and white, then. Oh dear, I’ve just caused a spike in the abduction rate of Dalmatian puppies, haven’t I? Never mind the white. If the spots are black, they’ll go with anything; say… black-spotted gold. That could be big, I think; if it can last. There’s only so much that can be done with it. You can’t go out every night in a little black-spotted gold dress. It’s too much of a statement piece, and when you start making the same statement too often, people stop listening. Black-spotted-gold pumps might get their fair share of use. Or a black-spotted gold purse. And you know, I don’t mean to scare the puppies, but furs are coming back. A black-spotted gold fur coat would scream expense – a must, in fashion. Not as loudly as, say, a black-spotted gold cheetah… Or would those screams be mostly coming from passersby? Screams of jealousy, no doubt. Alarm, yes, but largely jealousy. Anyone who can afford to accessorize with wildcats has gone well beyond the cutting edge. Cheetahs as the new handbag Chihuahua. Now that’s confidence!
Don’t think you can pull it off? Fine, have it your way. But no one ever made it in fashion by playing it safe. Or playing it sane. Trust me: Madness has ever been the black.
(Enjoyed what I wrote? There’s loads more where that came from! Browse the DEShipley catalogue, why dontcha. Or if you wish, leave a tip on my GoFundMe page; I’m covered for Outlaws of Avalon 2, praise God, but there’s always Book 3 and beyond… ;D )