Vegas Magazine - Niche Media - There is a place beyond the crowds, beyond the ropes, where dreams are realized and success is celebrated. You are invited.
Issue link: http://www.ifoldsflip.com/i/555392
illustration by Daniel o'leary Mariah Carey and Las Vegas are a match made in heaven (or at least a drive-through wedding chapel) for so many reasons: her showmanship, her love of goodlifng, the fact that in high school she so rarely showed up for class that her nickname was Mirage. But the main reason the diva is the human embodiment of Sin City? Her wardrobe. Just the mention of her name evokes skin- baring skintight gowns, plunging necklines, and elbow-length gloves, all of it crowned with a mop of highlighted, glam rock – style ringlets. Gloriously unabashed in every outft, Carey is the queen of questionable fashion choices. Think of her as mutton dressed as Lambs (her pet name for her fock of superfans). Carey's clothing certainly echoes the outfts of the city's other visitors. Within moments of arriving on the Strip, ordinary Janes are unfettered from their workaday wardrobes and transformed into peacockish glamazons. Their suitcases may have passed a TSA inspection, but the fashion police would have confscated the contents. For dinner, they tiptoe on seven- inch stilettos in gowns designed for Dynasty extras. Come daytime, it's dry-clean-only scraps of fabric that make a dip in the pool impossible. Ordinary Joes are just as prone to fashion pratfalls. Sporting slicked-down hair and popped-up collars, they move from slot machine to gaming table with the knowing swagger of Derek Zoolander closing Mugatu's runway. Such fashion faux pas are perhaps unexpected, given the investment Las Vegas has made in style. This is a town where one mall is named for the fashion shows it stages every weekend, while another, the Forum Shops, banks more than $1,500 per square foot each year, making it one of the most lucrative in America. The Rat Pack's slick look was smelted in Vegas, their slim-ft tuxedos and shiny shoes synonymous with sharp dressing, while the gown-heavy wardrobe that Sharon Stone wore in Casino recalled the glamorous elegance of Sin City's women during the same era. This is the city where Magic happens, that twice-yearly confab where the rag trade and the world's retailers come together to set the must-sell trends for the coming season. Somehow, though, few visitors hit the fashion jackpot in Las Vegas. But instead of sneering at the sequined new arrivals, perhaps we should ape them instead. Carey oozes a woozy self- confdence as she determinedly pours herself into every sheath. This diva knows how she likes to dress. Steering the same course for more than two decades, she sloughs off red-carpet snark. Carey has a showgirl's shameless soul, and we should celebrate, even envy, her self-assurance. In much the same way, the outlandish outfts often worn by visitors aren't so much an eyesore as a marabou-trimmed tribute to the power of Vegas to produce sheer joy. Who doesn't relish unleashing their inner diva? Safe in our haven, regular folks can dress unencumbered by the fear of embarrassment that might stymie their self-expression at home. When it comes to outré wardrobes and ordinary Joes or Janes in Las Vegas, as Carey would croon, we belong together. V Las Vegas—Fashion Liberator It's not just the epIcenter of entertaInment; Vegas Is also the epIcenter of entertaInIng fashIon choIces. by mark ellwood 120 vegasmagazine.com PARTING SHOT