Miami Trends

So I hate to insult you by blogging about The Real Housewives of Miami, but I must.  I know the Housewives are trivial and most likely all have social disorders, yet in fashion land they rule. They are true Florida fashionistas. 

The fashion on the show is impeccable.  I am sure they have stylists for the show, because all of the Wives' looks are polished.  The fashion on the show really speaks to the style in Miami.   Miami is full of beautiful people who are willing to take the risk and wear something trendy and expensive.  Dare I say, trends are created in Miami. 

Alexia, the blond on the right with neon green top, and black and white horizontally striped skirt, created an incredibly sexy look for the daytime.  I am a fan of pairing black and white with a color in any manner. And in South Florida, especially in Miami, why not make it a neon color?  The outfit is trendy, polished, sexy and remains classy. Not much skin is showing and if you have the figure you can pull it off at any age.  What you can't see is that the skirt is high wasted, and the shirt is a crop top.   

And then there's the white.  If ever in doubt when picking a daytime look, wear white.  Two of the 'Wives' wore all white to this daytime event, and the other two sported white bottoms.  Short white dresses are the best.  All white is all over the South Florida fashion scene.    

When I go to Miami, I am always looking to do a trendy style.   I once made the mistake of going to Miami dressed down, once.  Housewives of Miami gives me unexpected inspiration for how to dress, and how not to behave.  

Palm Beach Architecture: Courthouse Divides Pt. III

                From the oldest origins of the neo-classical Miami-Dade courthouse, to the tropical decay brought to mind by the Fort Lauderdale courthouse, we bring you, finally, to 1994-built main courthouse in downtown West Palm Beach.  The WPB house of justice is perhaps a middle ground between the ancient origins of Miami-Dade’s courthouse and the new wave tropical decay of Fort Lauderdale’s.

                

Consider the attempt to give the pedestrian entryway from Dixie Highway some form of permanence: little stone monuments! Quotes! Wow!  Unfortunately, these “monuments” bear an unfortunate resemblance to road barriers.  No one could think of a more inspiring testament to our system of justice?

Consider also the symbolism of the arch at the top of the entryway between the two wings of the building: this rather overt walkway is symbolism by blunt instrument; an attempt to symbolize the openness of the justice system – come one, come all, you are welcome here.

                Yet for this critic, as you may have suspected gauging by my earlier commentary on the neo-classical Miami-Dade courthouse, the overall effect of the design strikes me as rather cheesy.  The arch, for all its pompous self-importance in the skyline of West Palm Beach, is something that beats you over the head.  Its supposed symbolism slaps your face, rather than the timeless pillaring and triangular designs of Miami.  

          Consider the effect of the building as a whole: [Special thanks to Mr. Keith Vincent of the fascinating www.courthousehistory.com website for allowing use of the image below].

           To this critic, this design calls to mind the 2000s, the era of the Rush Limbaugh pill trial, rather than the eternal struggle of truth - the quest for Western man to better himself - called to mind by timeless Greco-Roman columns of Miami.  The cheap attempt to replicate or imitate columnar shapes in the second levels do not inspire.

                I know there will be some in our audience who disagree – but we at the FAD Palm Beach will always err on the side of the classic-yet-never-outdated rather than siding with those who confuse a pretentious symbolism with weightiness.  

We at the FAD blog temporarily take leave of critiquing our public buildings.  But to those who think that architectural design in courthouses is a mere trifle, consider the timeless, evocative response felt by an earnest bankrupt in Honore de Balzac’s Cesar Birotteau, who can express the weight of our courthouses' symbolisms better than we ever could:

"To those persons who take society in its serious aspects, the paraphernalia of justice has a grand and solemn character difficult perhaps to define. Institutions depend altogether on the feelings with which men view them and the degree of grandeur which men's thoughts attach to them. When there is no longer, we will not say religion, but belief among the people, whenever early education has loosened all conservative bonds by accustoming youth to the practice of pitiless analysis, a nation will be found in process of dissolution; for it will then be held together only by the base solder of material interests, and by the formulas of a creed created by intelligent egotism......

It is a rare thing nowadays to find men who mount the stairway of the old Palais de Justice in the grasp of keen emotions. Cesar Birotteau was one of those men.....

Possibly the mind is sobered by a glimpse, caught through the rich gratings, of the Place du Palais-de-Justice, where so many sentences have been executed. The staircase opens above into an enormous space, or antechamber, leading to the hall where the Court holds its public sittings.

Imagine the emotions with which the bankrupt, susceptible by nature to the awe of such accessories, went up that stairway to the hall of judgment, surrounded by his nearest friends....."

We seriously doubt that the West Palm main courthouse could evoke such serious emotions among litigants and the public.  Which would be more likely to bring forth such gushing respect for a nation’s judicial institutions, the nondescript West Palm building which could just as easily be an office building, or the classic, neo-classical look of the Flagler courthouse?

Color Blocking in the Sunshine State

In Palm Beach County, you are a fool if you don't utilize the beach as much as possible.   Along with frequenting the beach, comes frequenting your swim suits.  In Texas, I only had one or two suits max. But here, being so close to the beach my beach fashions are stretched.   Which brings me to color blocking. 

This past Sunday, I had an impromptu trip to the beach.  When it came to what to wear, I had this old aqua bikini top that I wanted to wear, but no bottoms.  So I color blocked the aqua top with a solid brown bottom.  It actually looked fashionable.  To my surprise, I noticed quite a few women with color blocked swim suits; an orange top and nude bottom that was very stylish and sexy. Wait, no not like that!  Though I think the trend works well when you incorporate a color close to your skin color. 

What about color blocking away from the beach?

Color blocking is a national trend right now, and when out and about in West Palm you will see the trendy with color blocked clothes, shoes and nails.  In fact while I was out this week I saw someone who color blocked with a print and it looked quite fabulous.   Actually, I may see if I can incorporate a print alternative into my next attempt at color blocking.  

What do you think about the print addition to the color blocking?

Palm Beach Architecture: Courthouse Divides Pt. II

                Modernists and fans of innovation may quibble with our recent defense of neo-classicism.  It is easy to criticize these buildings: they are outmoded, designed for people of the average height in 1930, they signify an old, unjust power structure.  To these critics, then, a more reasonable example of a courthouse may be in Fort Lauderdale, where the courthouse lies just south of the riverwalk and the famous Las Olas Boulevard.

                Grayness of neo-classical marble may dissuade some; crowded, antiquated interiors may infuriate, and dated designs may symbolize only inconvenience for many.

                For this author however, the Broward County courthouse, modern though it may be, is a pathetic testament to the esteem in which we hold our justice system.  Avoiding all descriptions of architectural classification, consider the street view from the Southwest of the site:

Let's be honest: from this view, the courthouse resembles an abandoned tropical self storage facility.  The tiers above the top floor, with their window spaces open to the sky, remind one of something out of bombed-out Mogadishu, rather than a new, more equitable, modernity.

        And for the critics of neo-classicism who criticize the aging columns and marble which may turn gray over time, consider the scorched-earth appearance of the upper levels of this newer building.  Is that mold? The remnants of a fire? Whatever it is, it does not inspire me to some higher ideals of Western civilization and justice of our peers.   Rather, with the palm trees in front, it reminds me only of the tropical decay of a third world country.

                Most disconcerting, however, is the overall blandness of the design.  Ask the stranger or tourist on the street: “What is that building right there? Is it an office building? A warehouse?“ Whatever your average third party might say, they surely would not quip “It is clearly a public building, held in the highest esteem by the populace.”  In fact, at least from the most commonly used entrance for civil matters, the Southwest side of the site, the building almost completely blends in with its surroundings - despite the not as sleepy overall site design, seen at left.

And this failure to inspire from street level, in this critic’s opinion, is where the building’s design utterly fails.  A courthouse is not an office building – it is supposed to stand for some higher values or ideals.  Does an utterly non-descript building inspire anyone? 

From the FAD blog, then, we issue a sound thumbs down to the Broward County Courthouse.

Courthouse Divides: Pt. I

        Perhaps nowhere more starkly do perceptions on architecture conflict than in our public spheres.  Consider, for example, all of the recent brouhaha over the Washington Mall.  MLK’s monument had to be “corrected” to delete the supposedly arrogant “I was a drum major” quote.  Plans for Eisenhower’s memorial have been criticized harshly, resulting in some to call for the outright revamp of the plans.

                It is with these controversies in mind, then, that we venture to comment on the architecture of our local courthouses, styles I am well familiar with having entered those halls of justice so often.  Comparing the state courthouses in the tri-county area is to relive the classic divide between traditionalists and the new.   

             Let’s begin with the Miami-Dade courthouse.  Venturing closer from the street level, you are confronted with a towering example of neo-classical features.  Sliced columns at the second level reminiscent of national buildings we are so familiar with, rising into the crowning triangular shapes of the pantheon.

             Coming closer to enter the hallowed space where lady justice reigns (as do sleazy attorneys; misogynistic judges who make comments on attractive court reporters; and bums sleeping across the street who keep their watchful eyes on the building), we pass through the columns that we often associate with neo-classical style.  At a height high above the ground, these columns may evince in some a feeling of feeling small in the face of authority; to others, they may signify the solemnity that we should feel when dealing in matters of life and liberty.

               

We even pass by a solemn statue of the man for whom the Miami-Dade courthouse is named, Henry Flagler.  

At one time, the courthouse was reputedly the tallest building in America south of Baltimore.     

              

              Traditionalists and fans of neoclassicism, then, will surely love the adhesion to timeless principles that are echoed in our most revered sites across the nation.  Haters of the style will likely see only symbols of our less equal past.

                

             This critic, for one, sides with the fans of the classic; it is one thing to advocate for new wave trends or for innovation in our commercial districts, but this author believes that nothing is lost, “Rien n’est perdu,” in the fearless new world words of Captain Nostromo, when we adhere to principles that remind the educated among us of the foundation upon which our Western system is founded.  Truth, liberty, justice – for this author, these principles are signified by the architectural parallels to the pantheon, by the impressive seeming permanence of the columns. 

              From the FAD Palm Beach then, we issue three cheers to the Miami Dade Courthouse, a rare and shining example of neo-classical architecture in our plasticky South Floridian midst.  Just as my co-blogger might say about fashion design & trends, I am of the persuasion that in architecture, we can never go wrong with the classics.