UNLIKELY ICON: BREAKING THE MAGICIAN'S CODE

Who knew that the real magic of the show lay in the wardrobes of the magician's assistants ey?

Netflix fills the void Blockbuster (RIP) sadly left behind, it's also a hole into which I fall headlong most nights. On one such night, I happened upon a show that conjured up such strong feelings of nostalgia that I couldn't not watch it: 'Breaking The Magician's Code'.

I remembered watching the show as a child, awestruck as the magic was performed and then exposed as slight of hand, trick of the eye and/or, incredibly flexible (perhaps boneless?) assistants. 

And it's these very assistants that now inspire me so.

I have no recollection of the assistants' clothing as a child, the magic holding my attention. However, now as a twenty-something, the magic seems secondary to the 90's fashion that distracts from the trickery of the act. The girls are of amazonian proportions and wear mini skirts that emphasise their long, lithe limbs and clothing so tight as to make you wonder if the magic doesn't lie in the fact that they don't pass out every episode.

There is not a feather boa or sequin in sight, as the moodiness of the 90s is captured with shades of plum and charcoal grey, shoes are chunky and lips are dark. It's a revival that we have been riffing off of for a while. 'Non-fashion is the new fashion' could be the slogan of right now, with many citing this as a means of people trying to ground themselves amongst the furore of the socio-political unrest of now. Finding comfort in the mundane and familiar, with 90's fashion being a beacon of that for many, with it's grunge aesthetic, embracement of the everyman staple: the plaid shirt and a decidedly less put-togetherness compared to that of the 80s glam.

For me, I appreciate their goth glam, reminiscent of Winona Ryder at her peak (pre sticky fingers fiasco), 'The Craft' coven's moody aesthetic and Nirvana's grunge dishevelment. It's far removed from the shiny hair, dazzling teeth and general blinding aura of today's TV. You can just imagine that these girls would clock off work, having been cut in half a couple of dozen times, only to head straight to a mosh pit or something equally gritty.

Perhaps it's the bad-assness and all that goes with that, that I have ascribed to these girls and their 'looks', rather than their actual clothing - which when compared to my own is rather dichotomous - that I find appealing. I am an oversized clothing aficionado. Skin tight is just not something that is in my lexicon. So I won't necessarily be replicating the magician's assistants' figure hugging, arse skimming looks on a day-to-day basis. However, it could very well inform my nighttime attire.  

For now I'll try to emulate the mystery, adopt the attitude and perhaps invest in a pair of chunky soled sandals to pacify this acute bout of nostalgia. And if that doesn't work, then I'm going to try out some dark lipstick and maybe a magic class or two...   

(Ed note: Pictures were scarce to support my argument. There seems to have been a series that went into the millennia that featured all such accompanying tack, which is unfortunately the only remnant of the show on the internet, so I suggest watching the  magic on Netflix instead.)

(All images via Netflix)