There’s something I will never understand about Instagram (and no, it’s not the creepy hashtag #iseefaces).
It’s the enduring appeal of following 4th and Bleeker on Instagram.
YES, I SAID IT.
The 4th and Bleeker brand is a perplexing phenomenon.
A social movement that appears to be simply an exercise in promoting the appeal of high-waisted white underwear. Underwear that would give the average woman a massive wedgie.
Let me explain…
I first stumbled upon Ms Spencer after following Lack of Colour on Instagram. It was also after buying my first Lack of Colour hat and thinking my #basic selfie may make it onto their feed.
LoC is a huge fan of Spencer, because she always posts photos in their hats. Frequently in a state of delicious undress. So of course they #regram her like it’s going out of fashion faster than normcore.
It’s hard for any mere mortal to avoid taking her #bodyinspo bait, subsequently falling into a Spencer-stalking sinkhole. You emerge hours later, dishevelled and alone in a dark corner.
Ah, the sweet, sweet rush of stalker satisfaction. I see you girl.
But as you scroll through her feed, admiring her frequently featured pert bottom, you may notice a repeated motif… a pair of high-waisted white underwear that aptly accents her complete lack of cellulite.
Wait, wait, HOLD UP. Is this the same pair of underwear? Over and over again?
Is she sponsored by a mystery underwear company that’s really pissed she never tags them in her #ootd?
Does Spencer have to wash her tightie whities everyday like a style-challenged commoner, or does she have an underwear butler?
Something is coming to me, and it isn’t free clothing… It’s an epiphany.
Alexandra Spencer is the Steve Jobs of our generation.
As chronicled in various 'How to be a Computer Genius' books, Jobs always wore the same Issey Miyake black mock turtleneck.
I like to imagine, like Batman or Patrick Bateman, that he had them all hung up in his closet in perfect order. Perhaps perusing the identical hangers everyday, finally settling on one that ‘spoke to him’.
I also like to imagine Spencer similarly perusing her hangers. Inspecting her wardrobe, littered with 50+ pairs of white, high-waisted undies.
Will she wear them today with a leopard fur jacket/no bra combo out in the garden? Or perhaps take them for an excursion to her Palm Springs hotel pool with a just-so vintage crop tee and cigarette?
Wait. White underwear, WET?
Yet danger is no match for 4th and Bleeker.
Think about it: She always posts pics without a top, yet NEVER has a nip slip. That’s superhuman in itself.
I once wore a turtleneck layered over a muumuu and my nip somehow slipped into a pic. Instagram banned me for, like, three weeks. I didn’t even have time to hashtag #freethenipple and make it seem like a protest.
Let’s be honest: Spencer is just the kind of superhero we need in 2015. A shining beacon in white underpants.
Maybe we should make her a Batman-style spotlight for fashion emergencies. Hey Lindsay Lohan: Just look up, and follow the light…
Follow Bianca’s confusing fashion journey here.