Doncha just love how the seemingly innocuous, anti-fashion, or just plain comical make it into high fashion? Take for example, the topknot. I am sporting one right now. Do you know why? I couldn’t be bothered washing my hair; the last thing on mind as I tripped around the apartment shrouded in a hazy sleep-fug. I also needed the ribbons of sea-weed like hair (my natural hair state) pulled back from face as I pedaled furiously into work. Pedaling furiously is the only way to pedal people, specially when you’re late for work. Anyway, the topknot is just a  functional means of hiding your messy, greasy, scatty barnett from the world. I like to sport one when I’m late for work, when I come out of the gym, when I’m hungover, when I’m stressed, when I’m surfing, when I’m chillaxing. Rebecca used to sport one in school and I called it the Birds Nest and threw paper at it. Grace dons a gigantic one around the house in a highly satirical manner, but sometimes, just sometimes, forgets to take it down. But now the topknot is haute-couture hair showmanship. You can bring it to the gallery, you can bring it to the nightclub, you can bring it on your date, you can bring it to your high-powered meeting. Messy-chic knows no bounds. Chloe Sevigny, probably the revolutionary culprit, brings hers both to the beach and to the red carpet. Seen below on catwalks, in changing rooms, on the streets, accompanying  leotards, cigarettes and opulent gold jewelery. Topknotik.

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