Are Girls Who Wear Harem Pants Destined for Loneliness? THE MAN REPELLER Considers Fashion’s Gender Divide.

High fashion can be a badge of glamour, individuality, and confidence.

But a long-standing question posited by generations of female fashionistas: does it appeal to men?

One stylish blogger – Leandra Medine – seems to have resolved that question.  The name of her buzzy blog – The Man Repeller – tells you everything you need to know.  Given the choice between a pair of editorial Balenciaga wedges and love of a good man, she’ll opt for the former any day (although frankly, she’s so cute that we think that quite a few gentlemen will be able to see past the blinding glare of her acid wash harem pants).

Below, we catch up with this young wit, who tells us about the allure of  “Leopard print wing tip brogues,” her wish to dine with RuPaul, and gives us dressing tips on how to score “extra repeller points” on our next evening out on the town.

(And in case you’re wondering about the official definition of a “Man Repeller,” here it is:

[mahn-ree-peller] noun:

Outfitting oneself in a sartorially offensive way that will result in repelling members of the opposite sex. Such garments include but are not limited to harem pants, boyfriend jeans, overalls (see: human repelling), shoulder pads, full length jumpsuits, jewelry that resembles violent weaponry and clogs.)

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Barneys New York:  How on earth does a pretty, charming girl like you become a self-appointed “Man Repeller?”

The Man Repeller: I started a blog last April and while I didn’t necessarily mean to become the Man Repeller, I was speaking to Man Repellers nationwide (or, at the time, bedroom- wide).  As things progressed, I became the poster girl for the blog — though I think that Chloe Sevigny would do a far better job than I ever could.

BNY:  What’s an example of an early Man Repeller fashion statement?

TMR: A pair of acid washed harem pants.

BNY: You attended a religious day school in Manhattan, where there was a strict dress code.  How has that influenced your fashion sensibilities?

TMR: I promised myself after I graduated that I’d never wear a long skirt again.  I really did try hard not to surrender to the maxi skirt trend, but I failed.  Rag & Bone wheeled me in with those sheer ivory pleats.

Otherwise, I’d say that a lot of the time I feel like I might be over compensating for the years my creativity was hindered by black, white, and gray sweaters, and skirts with bright red blouses and silk purple shorts. Together.

BNY:  If you could have lunch with any fashion personality, who would it be?  Where would you go to eat, and what would you order?

TMR:  Does RuPaul count as a fashion personality?  Just kidding.  I’d love to pick the brains of Jack and Lazarro of Proenza Schouler. They’re total game changers.  I’d definitely chose to eat somewhere outdoors so that passersby can see that I’m lunching with the Proenza boys.  Where exactly doesn’t matter.  But the meeting would obviously be followed by a trip to the studio, where they unveil their latest collection of printed bow ties inspired by none other than me.  I’d get a python print PS1 in green out of it, too.

BNY: What’s your favorite piece of clothing?

TMR: A floral print silk jersey Balenciaga dress I bought at Barneys three years ago.  Fine, I didn’t buy it.  My mom did.  But it’s slowly been inducted into the Man Repeller hall of fame (read: my closet.)  It looks like a towel, which is … fantastic.

BNY:  What’s the ultimate Man Repeller outfit?

TMR: Leopard print wing tip brogues, a floral print maxi dress, with an oversized striped leather jacket (these exist, I swear, cue: Veda.) Bright red lip stick, and a geometric print turban for Extra Repeller Points. Thick framed eye glasses to take home the celibacy award!

BNY:  Where do you see the blog going in five years?  A book?  A movie (obviously a chick flick)?

TMR: I have no idea what the future of this blog holds, whether it blossoms or crumbles.  So long as we’re all wearing detachable neon collars, everything is all right in my world.

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