穿過(guò)男朋友的衣服才知道,女裝口袋這么?。?/span>
中國(guó)日?qǐng)?bào)雙語(yǔ)新聞微信 2019-11-16 09:00
女生穿男裝早就不是什么新鮮事了。
有可能是“隨便找了件男票的衣服套著”。
但單身汪們逛街的時(shí)候跑到同品牌男裝區(qū)選購(gòu),通常是給自己買(mǎi)。
問(wèn)她們?yōu)槭裁??;卮鹌毡槭牵骸昂每窗 ?、“?shí)用啊”、“相同的價(jià)位,尺碼卻大幾圈,作oversize(大碼)穿多好?。 ?/p>
男女裝之間存在哪些不那么顯而易見(jiàn)的差異,讓人做出不循常規(guī)的消費(fèi)決策呢?
下面這些不同點(diǎn),穿過(guò)異性衣服的人才會(huì)知道。
口袋
作家Lucy Rycroft-Smith曾試著一個(gè)月只穿男裝,她發(fā)現(xiàn)的第一件事就是口袋的差異。
We need to talk about pockets. The clothes I'm wearing now have bountiful, multifaceted, capacious pockets. I have nine of them today. I counted them. On a typical day of wearing womenswear, I have NONE.
我得說(shuō)說(shuō)口袋。我現(xiàn)在穿的男裝,口袋巨多,每一面都有,而且都超大超能裝。我今天穿的這件就有9個(gè)口袋,我數(shù)過(guò)了!想想我穿女裝的日子,一個(gè)口袋也沒(méi)有。
Another realization like a wet herring to the face: The "handbag vs pockets" thing is huge confidence-underminer, another terribly effective, if inadvertent way, to hold women down.
我還常聽(tīng)說(shuō)一個(gè)邏輯謬誤:“女人有包,要啥口袋”。簡(jiǎn)直又是無(wú)意間把女人當(dāng)作要區(qū)別對(duì)待的弱勢(shì)群體。
I remember being crouched over my handbag, furiously ferreting for a business card while my male colleague coolly produced one from his manly chest-cavity.
我記得以前帶手提包的時(shí)候,不得不蹲在那瘋狂找名片,而我的男同事已經(jīng)瀟灑地從胸前口袋里掏出來(lái)了。
布丁網(wǎng)的研究者們搜集了美國(guó)最暢銷(xiāo)的20個(gè)牛仔褲品牌,測(cè)量了它們的男女褲裝的口袋大小。
The average sizes for both women and men. The measurements confirmed what every woman already knows to be true: women’s pockets are ridiculous.
男褲與女褲前口袋的平均大小對(duì)比。該測(cè)量數(shù)據(jù)證實(shí)了每個(gè)女人都知道的事:女褲口袋是來(lái)搞笑的。
On average, the pockets in women's jeans are 48% shorter and 6.5% narrower than men’s pockets.
平均而言,女褲口袋比男褲口袋短48%,窄6.5%。
Beyond the obvious measurement differences, we wanted to see just how functional all these pockets were. After all, a pocket is only as good as what you can fit in it.
除開(kāi)這些表面的測(cè)量數(shù)據(jù),我們還想知道這些口袋的功能表現(xiàn)如何。畢竟,要看口袋有多好,得看它有多能裝。
Only 40 percent of women’s front pockets can completely fit one of the three leading smartphone brands. Less than half of women’s front pockets can fit a wallet specifically designed to fit in front pockets. And you can’t even cram an average woman’s hand beyond the knuckles into the majority of women’s front pockets.
女褲的口袋中,只有40%能放得下市面上常見(jiàn)的智能手機(jī)。不到一半的女褲口袋能裝得下小錢(qián)包,這里說(shuō)的還是那種為褲子前口袋特意定制的小錢(qián)包。這還沒(méi)完,大部分的女褲前口袋,你甚至連手都放不進(jìn)去。
扣子
On shirts, the buttons are on the left for the ladies and on the right for the gents.
女襯衫的扣子在左側(cè),而男襯衫的扣子在右側(cè)。
When buttons were invented in the 13th century, they were, like most new technology, very expensive. Wealthy women back then did not dress themselves — their lady’s maid did. Since most people were right-handed, this made it easier for someone standing across from you to button your dress.
扣子是13世紀(jì)發(fā)明的,和許多新技術(shù)一樣,那時(shí)的扣子非常昂貴。家境殷實(shí)的女人不需要自己更衣,都是女仆幫忙。鑒于大多數(shù)人都是右利手,把扣子放在左側(cè)方便站在對(duì)面的人幫你穿衣。
As for men’s shirts, there are a few competing theories as to why buttons are on the right side. But as a general rule, many elements of men’s fashion can be traced back to the military. Once again, the right-handed assumption played a role since access to a weapon practically trumped everything - a firearm tucked inside a shirt would be easier to reach from the dominant side.
男襯衫扣子為什么在右側(cè),各種解釋很多。但總的來(lái)講,很多男性衣著的設(shè)計(jì)歷史上都受到行軍打仗的影響。這次,又是“右利手假說(shuō)”可以解釋 —— 扣子設(shè)計(jì)在右側(cè)的話(huà),右手從扣子縫里伸進(jìn)去拿別在襯衫里的槍是最方便的。
舒適性
專(zhuān)欄作家Lucy Rycroft-Smith曾在石英網(wǎng)撰文吐槽“為什么男裝都設(shè)計(jì)得那么舒服?”
For most of my life, I’ve worn clothing that leaves a mark. Bra straps nip at my shoulders; the backs of my shoes dig into my skin. Pantyhose leaves red rings around my stomach at the end of the day—glaring, and just as affecting, as felt-tip marks from a plastic surgeon.
我人生大部分時(shí)間穿的東西都是會(huì)在我身上留下印記的那種。文胸肩帶會(huì)勒肩膀,鞋子后跟會(huì)磨腳后跟,穿一天下來(lái),連褲襪會(huì)在肚子上勒出紅紅的一圈印子,觸目驚心,而且更可憐的是,勒出來(lái)的印子就像是整形手術(shù)前畫(huà)的線(xiàn)似的。
Then, several months ago, I began wearing men’s clothing. Among the major advantages I’ve discovered so far: Plentiful pockets, simpler dressing decisions, and easier temperature control. But the biggest revelation for me was the huge difference in my physical and emotional comfort.
幾個(gè)月前我開(kāi)始穿男裝,發(fā)現(xiàn)了很多好處:口袋很多、穿衣選擇很簡(jiǎn)單,想要暖和或涼快也很容易調(diào)節(jié)。但最讓我驚訝的是我的身體感覺(jué)更舒服了,心情也更好了。
Like a lot of women, I’ve long been accustomed to scrambling out of my clothes at the end of the workday as fast as possible. Being off-duty meant taking off my high heels, stripping off my tights, shedding underwear and anything with a waistband. After unbuttoning, unzipping, and peeling off my clothing, I’d breathe a huge sigh, signaling my physical and mental release. Yet despite this nightly ritual, I usually took the discomfort and constrictions of women’s clothing for granted.
與大多數(shù)女人一樣,每個(gè)工作日一結(jié)束,我就要奮力把自己從衣服里解救出來(lái),動(dòng)作越快越好。這種情況我都習(xí)慣很久了。下班后,立馬脫掉高跟鞋,脫掉緊身褲襪和內(nèi)衣,反正就是把所有勒腰的都脫掉。解完扣子,扯開(kāi)拉鏈,脫掉這些之后,我就會(huì)長(zhǎng)出一口氣,總算可以讓身體和腦子都休息休息了。但是你看,就算是每晚要來(lái)這么一通,我還是把女人穿衣的那些束縛與不舒適當(dāng)做了理所當(dāng)然。
Nor did I consider its chafing effects on my mind. A lot of my clothing never quite fit me—instead, I had to make sure I fit it. Wearing an off-shoulder shirt or a silk dress meant constant fidgeting and adjusting. Every mirror, shop window, or reflective surface was an opportunity to check my appearance; every glimpse was a disappointment. The threat of gaping, riding up, and puckering was ever-present.
我之前也沒(méi)想過(guò)這些穿衣規(guī)矩對(duì)我的心理有哪些負(fù)面影響。我的很多衣服都不適合我——相反,我得努力保證我能適合它們!穿露肩衫或者絲質(zhì)裙意味著我得不斷地去調(diào)整、捏扯。每當(dāng)路過(guò)鏡子、商店櫥窗,或者任何反光表面,我都會(huì)抓住機(jī)會(huì)檢查自己的著裝。但其實(shí)每看一次都會(huì)挑出毛病來(lái),一不小心就走光,裙子上滑,或者衣服起皺。
男裝的困境
同樣的,不只是女性不滿(mǎn)女裝的設(shè)計(jì),也有人對(duì)市面上的主流男裝不太感冒。
專(zhuān)欄作家Alice O'Keeffe在《衛(wèi)報(bào)》撰文講述自己給兒子買(mǎi)衣服的經(jīng)歷,顏色的選擇少得可憐。如果小朋友的衣服都這么無(wú)聊,可以想見(jiàn)成年人的衣柜應(yīng)該就跳不出“黑白灰”。
I completely understand parents of girls objecting to endless pink and princess dresses. But perhaps the situation is almost worse for boys. At least girls get a bit of choice. What does this weird lack of diversity tell us about what we expect boys to be? Boring, conformist, dull, practical – or worse.
我完全理解女孩們的父母不愿意讓自己的小孩永遠(yuǎn)穿粉色,打扮得跟公主似的。但是或許男孩子面臨的選擇更加糟糕吧。女孩至少還有顏色選擇。男孩的衣著顏色少得可憐,這是要我們把小孩培養(yǎng)成什么樣兒?無(wú)聊、墨守成規(guī)、古板、實(shí)用主義,抑或更糟?
Staring at the deathly rows of mini-suits I was reminded of Grayson Perry's book on gender, The Descent of Man, and in particular his idea of “default man”, the archetype of the wealthy, powerful and besuited white male. Perry — a man who knows a thing or two about clothing —has a lot to say about suits. “The real function of the sober business suit is not to look smart but as camouflage,” he writes. “A person in a grey suit is invisible.”
看著那排顏色單調(diào)的小西裝,我想起了Grayson Perry寫(xiě)的關(guān)于性別的書(shū)《男人的墜落》,里面提到“男人的默認(rèn)設(shè)置”——有錢(qián)、有權(quán)、身著套裝的白人。Perry作為一個(gè)還算了解穿搭的男性,對(duì)西裝可是很有話(huà)說(shuō):“樸素的商務(wù)西裝的真正功能并不是讓人覺(jué)得好看,而是作為偽裝保護(hù)色而存在的——穿灰西裝的人是隱形的。”
This is the message high-street fashion is sending to young boys: That they should aim not to express themselves but to don a kind of cloak of invisibility. Why? It’s not as though men are genetically programmed to want to look dull. In many cultures, men’s fashion is as colorful and glamorous as women’s. Go back a couple of centuries or so to when wealthy European men would have worn sumptuous colors and fabrics, jewelry and even high heels.
這也就是高街時(shí)尚傳遞給男孩們的信息:你們不應(yīng)該打扮得顯眼,而應(yīng)該披上一身隱形斗篷。這是干嘛呢?男人的基因里又沒(méi)規(guī)定他們要穿死板無(wú)聊的色調(diào)。很多文化中的男性時(shí)尚跟女性時(shí)尚一樣多彩鮮艷富有魅力。幾個(gè)世紀(jì)前,富裕的歐洲男性就會(huì)打扮得艷麗無(wú)比,穿金戴銀,還穿高跟鞋呢。
Fortunately, we now have other options. After a reviving bun in the local cafe, my son and I went home and hit the internet. And there, readers, we found our happy ending: An outfit so outrageous, so loud and silly and glorious, that there was simply no way to resist.
很幸運(yùn)最后我和兒子找到了他想要的衣服。在商場(chǎng)一家餐廳里吃完蛋糕補(bǔ)充體力后,我跟兒子回到家就打開(kāi)了電腦。讀者們,我們?cè)诰W(wǎng)上找到了令人滿(mǎn)意的服裝:那件衣服很鮮艷浮夸,甚至有點(diǎn)蠢蠢的,根本沒(méi)辦法拒絕嘛。
Who knows how long my boy’s commitment to bright red will last – perhaps in a couple of years he will join the navy-blue crowd. But I hope not. Life can be tough, and we all need to find joy where we can. It’s not only girls who benefit from a touch of glitz and glamour.
不過(guò)誰(shuí)又知道我家小孩兒對(duì)大紅色的喜愛(ài)會(huì)持續(xù)多久呢?;蛟S過(guò)不了幾年,他就會(huì)加入“海軍藍(lán)陣營(yíng)”。但我不希望發(fā)生這種事。生活已經(jīng)如此艱難,所有人都需要尋找快樂(lè)。能從華麗服裝里獲得滿(mǎn)足感的可不能只是女孩們啊。
消費(fèi)主義的狂歡在這兩天達(dá)到頂峰。
你或許清空了裝著十幾個(gè)商品的購(gòu)物車(chē),也可能忙著自己的事完全無(wú)暇參與這個(gè)千億項(xiàng)目。
如果攔不住自己剁手的欲望,至少想清楚自己真正想穿的是什么樣的衣服。
Notes
capacious / k??pe???s / adj容積大的,寬敞的
herring / ?her?? / n鯡魚(yú)
knuckle / ?n?kl / n指節(jié),指關(guān)節(jié)
pantyhose / ?p?ntiho?z / n連褲襪,緊身褲
pucker / ?p?k?r / v皺起,使起褶子
conformist / k?n?f??rm?st / n順從者,隨波逐流者
archetype / ?ɑ?kita?p /典型
sumptuous / ?s?mpt?u?s / adj華貴的,豪華的,奢華的
glitz /ɡl?ts / n耀眼,華麗
編輯:左卓
來(lái)源: yayprint; thefword; pudding; today.com; Quartz