Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
They may have been on the other side of the planet from their native land, but the Aussies gathered at the Crosby Street Hotel last night for the Australians in New York Fashion Foundation's summer party couldn't have looked more at ease. "We grew up with American TV, American accents, American ways. When we come to America, it isn't a culture shock," offered Melissa George. Still, actors and models have been more successful than designers at rising into the international spotlight from down under, which is why Julie Anne Quay and Calvin Klein's Malcolm Carfrae formed AINYFF in the first place. Each year, the organization arranges for talented Aussie fashion prospects to come further their careers in the Big Apple.
Last year's first-prize winner, Georgia Lazzaro, is nearing the end of her internship at Narciso Rodriguez and had dressed George for the evening in a backless jumpsuit of her own design. "Australia has a very nurturing industry. I'm not saying it's easier to establish yourself there, but it is kind of a case of big fish in a little sea," explained the 25-year-old designer. Francisco Costa, just back from vacation on the Greek island of Kea, was palming a strip of raffle tickets. Fashion, he admitted, isn't necessarily something he associates with Australia. "I think kangaroos!" But that may soon change: Lazzaro moves over to Calvin Klein after fashion week. "She has a great portfolio," Costa said. "I can't wait."
—Darrell Hartman
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Tue, 27 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Tue, 27 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Mon, 26 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Mon, 26 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
The tiki torches were lit, the Champagne was flowing, and the cocktail-hour entertainment was covered in head-to-toe paint. For its 17th annual summer benefit, the Watermill Center threw an alfresco party with an Italian title, Paradiso, and a Fellini-esque mood. It started with a transporting climb up saw grass-lined steps, past costumed "snow monkeys" handing out samples of a scent that perfumer Loc Dong had created for the occasion. Beyond the wide courtyard, guests including Calvin Klein, Marisa Berenson, and Amanda Hearst toured installations of silver-painted performers and a violinist perched up in a tree. "It's like walking into a temple, after getting out of your car and away from your GPS," Elise Øverland noted.
In line with that Paradiso theme, more than a few guests wore angel's wings. But apparently, nature didn't get the memo—it was hot as you-know-what. "We started to get bitten by mosquitoes, so it was a quick walk through the woods," Klein reported. Later, Sharon Stone interrupted her hosting duties during dinner to announce that a bug had flown up her dress. "What an awkward moment—for the bug," she quipped. Stone auctioned off works by Marina Abramovic and Donald Judd and got Alec Baldwin to shell out $50,000 for a private performance by Rufus Wainwright, who had belted out an a cappella version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" to get the bidding going.
That was more than anyone was hearing from Terence Koh, who indicated with his fingers that he was on day 35 of his vow of silence. But with 600 guests packing the dinner tent, there was more than enough buzzing to go around.
—Darrell Hartman
Posted : Mon, 26 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Mon, 26 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Fri, 23 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Thu, 22 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
In town to fête her Fall '10 collection, Mulberry creative director Emma Hill arrived in the City of Angels with a little extra baggage—the label's signature glittery leopards, which held court at each end of the pool at the Chateau Marmont. Label muse Alexa Chung (toting her namesake bag, of course) was in town to play DJ for fellow It Brits like Kelly Osbourne and Cat Deeley. During dinner, Jessica Joffe and stylist Jessica de Ruiter sat at one end of the long table, while 90210's Jessica Stroup and Shenae Grimes snapped Polaroids of themselves with Gia Coppola and Nathalie Love at the other, and sliding into the seat next to Hill—fashionably late—was Kate Bosworth.
Hill, for her part, was reveling in the number of Angeleno fans on hand. Though she kept mum on whether there was a new L.A. store on the horizon, an expanded production schedule means that we will see more Mulberry bags and ready-to-wear stateside (the latter is currently only available on the label's Web site and at its Madison Avenue location). Reflecting on the overwhelming demand for the Alexa and, lately, the Neely bags, Hill shrugged sheepishly, "It's really a high-class problem, now, isn't it?" Clutching her own Margaret bag (named for the wild royal), the designer did hint at what's to come. "We're definitely going to continue to push for more leathers and start to make the line more cohesive, using hardware from the handbags on the clothes and shoes," she said, as someone complimented her coral booties with Bayswater hardware (due out in August). "They're kind of ridiculous, aren't they?" The kind that should fly off shelves, yes.
—Alexis Brunswick
Posted : Wed, 21 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Posted : Wed, 21 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Look closely and you could no doubt spot a few superfluous gents at last night's premiere of The Extra Man, a new film about a bookish young Manhattanite (Paul Dano) and the eccentric playwright (Kevin Kline) who schools him in the fine art of walking—that is, accompanying rich widows to dinner parties. They joined the likes of Doutzen Kroes (who brought her new baby bump), Cynthia Rowley (who brought her mother), and cast member Katie Holmes (who came without family) at the Village East Cinema, with most of the crowd heading over to the new double-decker Italian restaurant Vapiano for dinner afterward.
Even if Holmes (who plays Dano's character's half-hearted love interest) doesn't have a whole lot to do in the film, she's plenty busy up in Toronto these days, where she's filming The Kennedys, a miniseries for the History Channel. Selected somewhat controversially for the role of Jackie Onassis, Holmes (who wore a striped Celine dress and Roger Vivier shoes to last night's premiere) has been playing quite a bit of dress-up. "I wear a lot of wigs for Jackie," she said. Seamstresses have been re-creating much of the iconic First Lady's wardrobe for her, and Holmes told us that Armani even contributed two looks. "It's really fun to wear these pieces from this time period that were so feminine," she said. "You stand a little straighter. And you feel very much like a lady."
Incidentally, the main twist of The Extra Man is that Dano's young squire has a thing for cross-dressing. But last night, the actor insisted it hadn't really rubbed off. "I still feel like a dude," he said.
—Darrell Hartman
Posted : Tue, 20 Jul 2010 04:00:00 GMT
Your local prog-rock obsessive is probably pretty close to combustion at the moment: It’s only about 48 hours until Spiritualized, the high-nineties drone rockers, arrive at Radio City Music Hall to play a one-night-only concert version of their 1997 masterpiece, Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space. The band—and Floating in particular—has earned just [...]
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 21:41:28 +0000
The options out there for denim are, to put it mildly, many. Endless cuts, colors, washes, selvages—the prospect of navigating it all is enough to keep you in your oldest pair forever. But at his new shop, LOREN, opening tomorrow in Greenpoint, LIPS jeans designer Loren Cronk has simplified the options and is offering them [...]
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 20:19:07 +0000
Rag & Bone’s David Neville and Marcus Wainwright hosted a dinner for a couple dozen editors at Pulino’s last night to celebrate their new shop a block down Houston Street in the former Café Colonial space. Before everyone tucked into their burrata, pizza margherita, and roasted chicken, guests were treated to a free pair of [...]
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 19:33:25 +0000
The Salt star has been traveling the globe on the promotional circuit for her new spy thriller, and we’ve noticed that she (and her stylists) are feeling the long evening looks we’ve been seeing so much of this Resort season. In Moscow on Sunday, she wore a halter-topped Atelier Versace gown in Russian red, complemented [...]
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 17:30:22 +0000
Clinton wedding shakeup shocker: Chelsea to wear Vera Wang, not Oscar de la Renta, as previously reported?! WWD has its crack investigative team on the case. [WWD]In less controversial news, Tommy Hilfiger is celebrating his label’s 25th anniversary with a retrospective scrapbook, chronicling his personal and professional life over the past two-plus decades. It will [...]
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 15:58:38 +0000
A first glimpse at do-no-wrong fashion plate Zoe Saldana for Calvin Klein’s Envy—certain to set hearts racing from here to Pandora.
Photo: Courtesy Photo
Posted : Wed, 28 Jul 2010 14:30:06 +0000
This bag is full of holes—and that’s a compliment. Accessories obsessives don’t need to be told that it’s an Alaïa, carried on the arm of Lane Crawford’s ultra-fashionable fashion director, Sarah Rutson, as she navigated the Paris menswear shows last month. What might need telling is that such laser-cut, perforated accessories are a burgeoning trend. [...]
Posted : Tue, 27 Jul 2010 20:39:14 +0000
You might say they’ve had this date since the beginning. When Aimee Cho and Irini Arakas first met, it was as fellow fashion writers for Vogue. Flash-forward a handful of years, and they’re both successful designers: Cho of Gryphon ready-to-wear, and Arakas of Prova scarves and jewelry. So when they met again at Vogue’s Alumni [...]
Posted : Tue, 27 Jul 2010 19:17:38 +0000
Eighty-three-year-old experimental filmmaker, actor, author, and muckraker Kenneth Anger shot Missoni’s Fall ‘10 campaign video. It’s got our vote for trippiest fashion spot of the season. Do not adjust your set?
Posted : Tue, 27 Jul 2010 17:36:33 +0000
Her star’s on the rise—there’s that CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund Award nomination, for starters—but Pamela Love’s outlook, at least to judge from her jewelry, is still reliably macabre. Her new collection for Fall has just arrived at Opening Ceremony, and the mood is a little dark. There are more of the animal-inspired pieces with which she [...]
Posted : Tue, 27 Jul 2010 17:05:19 +0000
Julien Macdonald was quick to point out that his 35-piece collection wasn't resort or cruise; it was a "Christmas flash," which gave it a certain climactic specificity. Baby, it's getting colder outside, so Macdonald made knitwear to throw over his party frocks. For skin not yet kissed by holiday sun, he kept his colors on the dark and—it must be said—dreary side, with dusty, washed-out jewel tones. Even the white of a classically draped cocktail dress had an aged chalkiness. Macdonald lives on Portobello Road, and his vintage finds from the market there had a big influence on pieces that at times had a thirties languor, a twenties flapper quality, and something even earlier, with tattered lace and faded ruffles that could have come from Miss Havisham's closet.
The aggressive sexiness that characterized the designer's work in the past was absent, though his emphasis on bias cutting made even the most prosaic-looking piece snake sinuously around the body. Where Macdonald's Christmas really flashed was in his knitwear. Again, all of it had a worn, deliberately snagged look, but there was a slouchy appeal to the sweater dresses. One was essentially a man's polo-neck jumper with corset-laced shoulders; another a cardigan, also corset-laced. Too gothic for seasonal cheer, but sly and sexy just the same.
—Tim Blanks
The aggressive sexiness that characterized the designer's work in the past was absent, though his emphasis on bias cutting made even the most prosaic-looking piece snake sinuously around the body. Where Macdonald's Christmas really flashed was in his knitwear. Again, all of it had a worn, deliberately snagged look, but there was a slouchy appeal to the sweater dresses. One was essentially a man's polo-neck jumper with corset-laced shoulders; another a cardigan, also corset-laced. Too gothic for seasonal cheer, but sly and sexy just the same.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
"I like to be as focused as possible," says Christopher Kane, which is why his collections always have such a strong, clear quality. Resort was no exception. Following on from last Spring's bomb motifs, he opted for flaring nebulae, as seen by the Hubble telescope. He explained that he liked "the idea of explosive outwards expansion" (a nice metaphor for what's happening with his business), but all that cosmic hyperactivity also yielded some great prints (translating beautifully into silk cashmere knitwear, too), with plenty of the interplay between light and darkness that's a Kane signature.
Nothing showcased that kind of contrast better than a biker jacket in chiffon with a frilled skirt attached. Kane offered the same piece in black leather, an accent carried over from Fall in high-waisted shorts, a bustier, or the bodice attached to an organza gazar skirt. Gazar also featured in a long princess skirt, gathered at the waist so it flared out. Mid-thigh, it zipped in half to become a skating skirt. Same with the halter-necked version, which Kane called a "housewife dress," though it was anything but suburban in its fiery print of cosmic catastrophe—a desperate-housewife dress, perhaps?
Those full, flaring lengths and the palazzo volume of the pants were experiments with new silhouettes for Kane, perhaps not entirely successful in comparison to the Barbarella-sleek line of his baby dolls and drop-waisted T-shirt dresses, where his focus was steely. By the way, Kane named his shoes for Barbarella—maribou-trimmed Zanotti platforms, ironic bordering on camp, and a joy to behold.
—Tim Blanks
Nothing showcased that kind of contrast better than a biker jacket in chiffon with a frilled skirt attached. Kane offered the same piece in black leather, an accent carried over from Fall in high-waisted shorts, a bustier, or the bodice attached to an organza gazar skirt. Gazar also featured in a long princess skirt, gathered at the waist so it flared out. Mid-thigh, it zipped in half to become a skating skirt. Same with the halter-necked version, which Kane called a "housewife dress," though it was anything but suburban in its fiery print of cosmic catastrophe—a desperate-housewife dress, perhaps?
Those full, flaring lengths and the palazzo volume of the pants were experiments with new silhouettes for Kane, perhaps not entirely successful in comparison to the Barbarella-sleek line of his baby dolls and drop-waisted T-shirt dresses, where his focus was steely. By the way, Kane named his shoes for Barbarella—maribou-trimmed Zanotti platforms, ironic bordering on camp, and a joy to behold.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Elie Saab loves La Fenice, Venice's legendary opera house. As its name would suggest, this phoenix has burned to the ground and risen from the flames three times. For his Fall Couture collection, Saab borrowed the ruched velvet of La Fenice's curtains, the gilt and blue of its decoration, and even the fire and ash of its hellish moments for one multicolored mousseline gown. Given that backstory, the result was understandably a little overwrought.
Before the show, Saab said, "If a woman doesn't want 'rich,' she doesn't come to couture." So rich was what he gave her, from the moment Karolina Kurkova sashayed out onto the catwalk in a gown of deep red guipure lace swathed in silk tulle. The dress that followed her was short but scarcely simpler, with its bands of chiffon and lace liberally doused with sequins.
The designer claimed he was breaking some personal ground with his focus on classical draping. There was lots of asymmetric single-shoulder action, and he was also keen to pay more attention to the back of his dresses. That's where the décolleté was this season, which often left the front decorously covered up to the throat. Put that together with the color scheme; the broad-shouldered, bat-winged proportions; and the embellishment of the fabrics, and the collection felt heavy, even slightly old-fashioned. Saab is a proven master of red-carpet dressing, but these clothes sometimes made one wonder in exactly what decade that carpet was being unrolled.
—Tim Blanks
Before the show, Saab said, "If a woman doesn't want 'rich,' she doesn't come to couture." So rich was what he gave her, from the moment Karolina Kurkova sashayed out onto the catwalk in a gown of deep red guipure lace swathed in silk tulle. The dress that followed her was short but scarcely simpler, with its bands of chiffon and lace liberally doused with sequins.
The designer claimed he was breaking some personal ground with his focus on classical draping. There was lots of asymmetric single-shoulder action, and he was also keen to pay more attention to the back of his dresses. That's where the décolleté was this season, which often left the front decorously covered up to the throat. Put that together with the color scheme; the broad-shouldered, bat-winged proportions; and the embellishment of the fabrics, and the collection felt heavy, even slightly old-fashioned. Saab is a proven master of red-carpet dressing, but these clothes sometimes made one wonder in exactly what decade that carpet was being unrolled.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Couture embraces worlds. The day that began with Elie Saab's stolid womanliness ended with Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pier Paolo Piccioli's reconceptualization of Val's gal as a dolly bird—all short skirt, dropped waist, baby doll, and kitten heels. The mood was compounded by the name the designers gave their collection: The Dark Side of First Love. If that notion has a Lolita tinge, Chiuri and Piccioli made the clothes to match. They even dropped a cage over one girl to let you know she was trapped.
Teen psychodrama may fit with the kind of "dark side" idea they've sometimes toyed with in the past, but it was downright peculiar in a couture context. Still, as a pitch to a much younger customer (and those girls were out in force in the front row today), the collection was a major success on its own terms: haute couture for the Twilight generation. From the little black dresses in gazar that opened the show to a trapeze coat in ivory crepe that tied with bows down its front to the tiers of ecru lace trimmed with feathers, the clothes had the spirited dressiness that you see now in Valli's gals, for instance. They weren't saccharine, either—that dark side lurked in the black gazar sheath that underpinned a sheer dress trimmed in huge organza flowers or a baby doll in ruffled tiers of powder pink.
And look closely and it was plain to see that Chiuri and Piccioli had done their research on classic couture shapes, however abbreviated they might be here. But that will be scant consolation to mournful clients of the ancien régime.
—Tim Blanks
Teen psychodrama may fit with the kind of "dark side" idea they've sometimes toyed with in the past, but it was downright peculiar in a couture context. Still, as a pitch to a much younger customer (and those girls were out in force in the front row today), the collection was a major success on its own terms: haute couture for the Twilight generation. From the little black dresses in gazar that opened the show to a trapeze coat in ivory crepe that tied with bows down its front to the tiers of ecru lace trimmed with feathers, the clothes had the spirited dressiness that you see now in Valli's gals, for instance. They weren't saccharine, either—that dark side lurked in the black gazar sheath that underpinned a sheer dress trimmed in huge organza flowers or a baby doll in ruffled tiers of powder pink.
And look closely and it was plain to see that Chiuri and Piccioli had done their research on classic couture shapes, however abbreviated they might be here. But that will be scant consolation to mournful clients of the ancien régime.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
The key to Jean Paul Gaultier's latest collection could be found in the opening and closing outfits of his show. First up, a reconfigured trenchcoat in black gabardine. Last out, the same idea in white silk (worn by a bride who played herself down the runway—literally—with a violin). The trench is Gaultier's signature piece. The fact his latest show was bracketed by it suggested the collection was about him this time: not Mexico or Hollywood or Mars or anywhere else he might have been recently. Being the most Parisian of French fashion designers, that gave him a lot to work with. Being Jean Paul Gaultier gave him even more. So it was a crying shame the show didn't ultimately offer the thrills he once provided so routinely we almost came to take them for granted.
It started auspiciously enough, with Karlie Kloss in that trench, reconfigured with batwings (despite the Brides of Dracula gear later in the show, this was less vampire chic than an evocation of the glamorous heyday of Parisian haute couture). The pinstripe tailleur that followed, swathed in a huge silver fox, was a reminder of Gaultier's mastery of the masculine/feminine hybrid. The jacket with black mink cone breasts (and a butt to match) also revived an iconic moment in the designer's career. He exaggerated the silhouette of a biker jacket, then trimmed it with badger fur to give it a halo. That was clever. But he went on to use the same trick a few too many times, which left an impression of peculiar proportions. Same with the batwing shape, which turned to draggy droop at the drop of a hat.
Perhaps it wasn't so surprising, given Gaultier's stint at Hermès, that the most appealing pieces in the show were the most luxuriously simple: a twinset of cashmere cardigan coat and vest; an elegant black dress that was basically just a long silk cardigan reversed; an asymmetric evening gown of black jersey with a gusset of gold running down one side.
A long tweed and ostrich feather skirt paired with an asymmetric top in pleated black leather generated a round of audience applause, but not nearly as rousing as the one that greeted Dita Von Teese, on hand to publicize Gaultier's lingerie for La Perla the way she knows best. She managed to moon the audience twice.
—Tim Blanks
It started auspiciously enough, with Karlie Kloss in that trench, reconfigured with batwings (despite the Brides of Dracula gear later in the show, this was less vampire chic than an evocation of the glamorous heyday of Parisian haute couture). The pinstripe tailleur that followed, swathed in a huge silver fox, was a reminder of Gaultier's mastery of the masculine/feminine hybrid. The jacket with black mink cone breasts (and a butt to match) also revived an iconic moment in the designer's career. He exaggerated the silhouette of a biker jacket, then trimmed it with badger fur to give it a halo. That was clever. But he went on to use the same trick a few too many times, which left an impression of peculiar proportions. Same with the batwing shape, which turned to draggy droop at the drop of a hat.
Perhaps it wasn't so surprising, given Gaultier's stint at Hermès, that the most appealing pieces in the show were the most luxuriously simple: a twinset of cashmere cardigan coat and vest; an elegant black dress that was basically just a long silk cardigan reversed; an asymmetric evening gown of black jersey with a gusset of gold running down one side.
A long tweed and ostrich feather skirt paired with an asymmetric top in pleated black leather generated a round of audience applause, but not nearly as rousing as the one that greeted Dita Von Teese, on hand to publicize Gaultier's lingerie for La Perla the way she knows best. She managed to moon the audience twice.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Old Hollywood has had a hold on Giorgio Armani since he was a boy. His first suit today—the skirt limning the body, then flaring out just below the knee; the draped jacket with the definite shoulder; the crepe silk overcoat thrown insouciantly over the lot—could have been Carmen Kass playing Carole Lombard (with Sharon Tate's hair). Even the shoes with their thick Perspex heels chipped in. The outfit set the pace for the designer's Armani Privé show—not retro but remarkably restrained and businesslike, with a subtle monochrome feel that was underscored by the many shades of brown on display, reflecting the theme "A Play on Amber."
The draped jacket and skirt combination is an Armani classic, of course. Here, he emphasized fluidity, exaggerating and softening the drape, extending one scarf collar over a shoulder and fastening it with a large wood and amber brooch. He also offered a handful of coats as alternatives, one as soft as a cardigan in cashmere and belted at the throat, another studded with crystals, and a third in camel to be worn over a broad-shouldered, belted crocodile jacket that exemplified Armani luxe.
For evening, he elaborated on the drape still further, with cascading folds of silk satin. And he made his amber theme sparkle, ladling sequins over goddess and mermaid dresses. Karlie Kloss shimmered in hers, the draping lending a sinuous mobility to the dress as she walked. It was just enough to make one wish there'd been more "play" and less "amber" in the show.
—Tim Blanks
The draped jacket and skirt combination is an Armani classic, of course. Here, he emphasized fluidity, exaggerating and softening the drape, extending one scarf collar over a shoulder and fastening it with a large wood and amber brooch. He also offered a handful of coats as alternatives, one as soft as a cardigan in cashmere and belted at the throat, another studded with crystals, and a third in camel to be worn over a broad-shouldered, belted crocodile jacket that exemplified Armani luxe.
For evening, he elaborated on the drape still further, with cascading folds of silk satin. And he made his amber theme sparkle, ladling sequins over goddess and mermaid dresses. Karlie Kloss shimmered in hers, the draping lending a sinuous mobility to the dress as she walked. It was just enough to make one wish there'd been more "play" and less "amber" in the show.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
The history of haute couture is studded with magnificent obsessives like Cristobal Balenciaga and Charles James. Even if Riccardo Tisci's name never makes it onto that list, his latest Couture collection for Givenchy proved that he shares the grandmasters' fanatical devotion to realizing an intensely personal vision through cut, cloth, and, in Tisci's case, extraordinarily elaborate ornamentation. This season, he opted out of a proper show in favor of intimate presentations, where he could better highlight detailed pieces like the painstakingly patchworked leather coat or the dress in Chantilly lace where the pattern of the lace had been duplicated in appliquéd leather (the dress ended in a cascade of dégradé ostrich feathers—Tisci considers dégradé, lace, and fringe-work his signatures).
The darkest color in the collection was the chocolate brown on those feathers. Otherwise, everything was white, flesh-colored, or gold, with a salon dedicated to each shade. Even the baboon fur that was attached to a swallowtailed knit jacket was spookily bleached. Fact is, Tisci didn't need black to exercise his gothic inclinations. He claimed his inspiration was Frida Kahlo and her three obsessions: religion, sensuality, and, given the painter's lifelong battle with spinal pain, the human anatomy. The zipper pulls were little bones, a belt was a spinal column re-created in porcelain. The dominant motif of the collection was the skeleton, laid out flat in the lace appliquéd on a long tulle column, or rendered in three dimensions in obsessively dense clusters of crystals, pearls, and lace on the back of a jacket in double silk duchesse satin. Nestled in the middle? A tiny ceramic skull sprouting angel wings. At one point during his presentation, Tisci rather tellingly muttered, "A romantic way to see death."
That jacket was suspended in the all-white "ceramic" room. In the "skin" room, Tisci showcased lace catsuits, one decorated with a Swarovski crystal skeleton that took 1,600 hours to create. In the third, "gold" room was a lace dress that demanded six months of work. Dresses encrusted with gold paillettes, stones, and beads were almost too heavy to lift, despite being revealingly scissored away at the waist. If the detail was breathtaking, it was also quite numbing in its intensity. The last room featured a giant portrait by Willy Vanderperre of Tisci's muses wearing the dresses, seen from the back. "I love that view," Tisci explained, "the spine of people." Walk round the photo and there was the same view from the front, the women all posed reverentially like hand maidens. In obsession is born the cult of couture.
—Tim Blanks
The darkest color in the collection was the chocolate brown on those feathers. Otherwise, everything was white, flesh-colored, or gold, with a salon dedicated to each shade. Even the baboon fur that was attached to a swallowtailed knit jacket was spookily bleached. Fact is, Tisci didn't need black to exercise his gothic inclinations. He claimed his inspiration was Frida Kahlo and her three obsessions: religion, sensuality, and, given the painter's lifelong battle with spinal pain, the human anatomy. The zipper pulls were little bones, a belt was a spinal column re-created in porcelain. The dominant motif of the collection was the skeleton, laid out flat in the lace appliquéd on a long tulle column, or rendered in three dimensions in obsessively dense clusters of crystals, pearls, and lace on the back of a jacket in double silk duchesse satin. Nestled in the middle? A tiny ceramic skull sprouting angel wings. At one point during his presentation, Tisci rather tellingly muttered, "A romantic way to see death."
That jacket was suspended in the all-white "ceramic" room. In the "skin" room, Tisci showcased lace catsuits, one decorated with a Swarovski crystal skeleton that took 1,600 hours to create. In the third, "gold" room was a lace dress that demanded six months of work. Dresses encrusted with gold paillettes, stones, and beads were almost too heavy to lift, despite being revealingly scissored away at the waist. If the detail was breathtaking, it was also quite numbing in its intensity. The last room featured a giant portrait by Willy Vanderperre of Tisci's muses wearing the dresses, seen from the back. "I love that view," Tisci explained, "the spine of people." Walk round the photo and there was the same view from the front, the women all posed reverentially like hand maidens. In obsession is born the cult of couture.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Christophe Lemaire's T-shirt collaborations with favorite artists like ESG, Ariel Pink, and classic Krautrockers Cluster suggest degrees of idiosyncratic enthusiasm and wide-ranging curiosity—not to mention exquisite taste—that should stand him in good stead when he enters the rarefied, intimate world of luxury that Hermès represents. (He recently replaced Jean Paul Gaultier as the brand's creative director.) And the collection he just showed for men and women under his own name—his first show in seven years—also offered proof that he has his own distinctive take on quietly convincing luxe.
Lemaire took the Orient as his inspiration. He was particularly struck by the men and women in the street, all dressed in the same way, in the documentary Michelangelo Antonioni made in 1972 during the Cultural Revolution in China. But where that event was a denial of individuality, Lemaire used a battery of subtle fashion effects to make his uniforms stand out. Hot colors—cinnamon, curry, cyclamen—contrasted with cool whites, taupes, and grays in superlight silks and cottons and delicate prints. In both his women's and menswear, the designer made the most of the elegant volumes of Nehru jackets, caftans, kimonos, and kurtas. He mixed East and West to great effect: a subtle samurai shoulder on a seersucker jacket, say, or shorts in pale gray Ultrasuede paired with a modified kimono top, or a deconstructed trench that shared a feather-light flyaway quality with a windbreaker in paper cotton. The alluring plainness of the clothes brought to mind Martin Margiela's work for Hermès, and even if that impression was shaped by the announcement of Lemaire's new post, it surely bodes well for the future.
—Tim Blanks
Lemaire took the Orient as his inspiration. He was particularly struck by the men and women in the street, all dressed in the same way, in the documentary Michelangelo Antonioni made in 1972 during the Cultural Revolution in China. But where that event was a denial of individuality, Lemaire used a battery of subtle fashion effects to make his uniforms stand out. Hot colors—cinnamon, curry, cyclamen—contrasted with cool whites, taupes, and grays in superlight silks and cottons and delicate prints. In both his women's and menswear, the designer made the most of the elegant volumes of Nehru jackets, caftans, kimonos, and kurtas. He mixed East and West to great effect: a subtle samurai shoulder on a seersucker jacket, say, or shorts in pale gray Ultrasuede paired with a modified kimono top, or a deconstructed trench that shared a feather-light flyaway quality with a windbreaker in paper cotton. The alluring plainness of the clothes brought to mind Martin Margiela's work for Hermès, and even if that impression was shaped by the announcement of Lemaire's new post, it surely bodes well for the future.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Karl Lagerfeld has often insisted that his collections come to him in dreams, but following his new Chanel couture show, he claimed the dream this time had been a nightmare. "No, no, just kidding," he quickly added, but there was a weight to the clothes that suggested a darker thread in Chanel this season. Compared to the glistening sci-fi whites of his Spring couture, these looks had a moody tinge. The colors, for a start: maroon, loden, navy, brown, camel. Next, the fabrics. As the show unfolded, there were velvet trims on shadow plaids, crystal trims on camel, fur trims on tweed. Dark tapestry was crusted with embroidery and beading. Imperial gold detailing against a field of navy sequins made Freja Beha Erichsen look like a girl waiting for her Ruritanian soldier.
Then there were the proportions—tiered, short-over-long. A cropped jacket with elbow-length sleeves topped a high-waisted, to-the-knee skirt—a look that combined elongation and bulk in a way that was intriguing though likely to pose a challenge to many bodies. How would it gel with the Leightons, Blakes, and Jessicas in their front-row perches? But if the collection had a difficult aspect, it also felt brave in its boldness and focus. In place of the magpie glee that can make a Chanel show such a sensory overload, there was an almost military discipline here, even as the parade grew more elaborate with each passing outfit. The combination of voluptuousness and severity could have bordered on an arch libertine sensibility, but barely brushed hair and fresh, girlish makeup added a vital lightness.
The ever-precise Lagerfeld is a textbook Virgo, but in honor of Chanel the Leo, he filled the Grand Palais with a vast and marvelous lion. Its paw rested on a huge globe—a Chanel pearl, perhaps—from which the models emerged. Befitting a collection that had the courage of its convictions, this was a fierce, awe-inspiring creature—one that could have sprung from a dream or even a nightmare.
—Tim Blanks
Then there were the proportions—tiered, short-over-long. A cropped jacket with elbow-length sleeves topped a high-waisted, to-the-knee skirt—a look that combined elongation and bulk in a way that was intriguing though likely to pose a challenge to many bodies. How would it gel with the Leightons, Blakes, and Jessicas in their front-row perches? But if the collection had a difficult aspect, it also felt brave in its boldness and focus. In place of the magpie glee that can make a Chanel show such a sensory overload, there was an almost military discipline here, even as the parade grew more elaborate with each passing outfit. The combination of voluptuousness and severity could have bordered on an arch libertine sensibility, but barely brushed hair and fresh, girlish makeup added a vital lightness.
The ever-precise Lagerfeld is a textbook Virgo, but in honor of Chanel the Leo, he filled the Grand Palais with a vast and marvelous lion. Its paw rested on a huge globe—a Chanel pearl, perhaps—from which the models emerged. Befitting a collection that had the courage of its convictions, this was a fierce, awe-inspiring creature—one that could have sprung from a dream or even a nightmare.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
A retro strain ran through Consuelo Castiglioni's Resort collection. Aside from the swags, ties, and ruffles and the emphasis on an hourglass silhouette, there was a governess-y tinge to a high-waisted skirt with a green striped satin blouse as well as to a rust-colored bibbed blouse with leg-of-mutton sleeves. Castiglioni name-checked the Bauhaus for its influence on the graphic print of a long summer dress, and that design movement's resolutely unromantic quality hovered over the clothes. The costume jewelry, on the other hand, was all boldness and sensuality. Outré and prim in the same outfit: Castiglioni excels at that kind of face-off.
—Tim Blanks
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
If the clothes that Bouchra Jarrar showed for her second haute couture collection weren't quite as severe as the austere stonework of the Musée des Arts Décoratifs that provided their backdrop, they definitely had a classical rigor about them. Jarrar set out to offer a complete wardrobe—from jackets, dresses, and a trenchcoat to the goddess gown that closed the show—in a way that reflected the breakfast-to-bedtime ideal of traditional couture. That meant her emphasis was on what she felt was essential, and things were pared down to the max. The palette, for instance—navy, black, ivory, with gold accents. And the silhouette, streamlined for an athletic impact that felt very much now (the trench was sleeveless).
There was delicacy in the balance of a two-piece outfit in ivory crepe that met at a single point on the waist. The slashed wool pieces with a glint of gold lamé underneath had a subtle glamour. But the most encouraging aspect of the collection might have been Jarrar's faith in her own voice as a designer. After the show, the Balenciaga and Lacroix alum counted "my maturity, my age" as influences. If enough customers feel the same way, then Jarrar's voice could become that of contemporary couture, too.
—Tim Blanks
There was delicacy in the balance of a two-piece outfit in ivory crepe that met at a single point on the waist. The slashed wool pieces with a glint of gold lamé underneath had a subtle glamour. But the most encouraging aspect of the collection might have been Jarrar's faith in her own voice as a designer. After the show, the Balenciaga and Lacroix alum counted "my maturity, my age" as influences. If enough customers feel the same way, then Jarrar's voice could become that of contemporary couture, too.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Alexis Mabille went through a phase of thinking it was modern to mix his ready-to-wear and his couture into one homogeneous stew. Reason prevailed when he realized that wasn't doing his craft any favors. But with his new couture outing, he maintained a ready-to-wear fundamental by building his collection from mix-and-match separates.
He started out with a basic eight top-and-bottom combinations and managed to double, maybe even triple them. Admittedly, it was mostly by exchanging a skirt for a pair of pants, or removing a dressy outer layer, but Mabille made his point nevertheless. With a twist, of course. His clothes are scarcely the stuff of an everyday wardrobe, hence his insistence that he was designing for "high-profile events" in the life of the modern professional woman. So a tuxedo jacket could be paired with pants and a pussy-bowed blouse in pink silk crepe, or worn over a simple black cocktail dress. Or a long evening coat might be worn either with a black turtleneck and full lace skirt or a lace bustier and black cigarette pants.
The craftsmanship that Mabille was keen to highlight was most obvious in a black velvet column with a lavishly embroidered and beaded bodice. Random trompe l'oeil petals cascaded down its front. It was the kind of seemingly throwaway gesture that confirms Mabille's sly talent.
—Tim Blanks
He started out with a basic eight top-and-bottom combinations and managed to double, maybe even triple them. Admittedly, it was mostly by exchanging a skirt for a pair of pants, or removing a dressy outer layer, but Mabille made his point nevertheless. With a twist, of course. His clothes are scarcely the stuff of an everyday wardrobe, hence his insistence that he was designing for "high-profile events" in the life of the modern professional woman. So a tuxedo jacket could be paired with pants and a pussy-bowed blouse in pink silk crepe, or worn over a simple black cocktail dress. Or a long evening coat might be worn either with a black turtleneck and full lace skirt or a lace bustier and black cigarette pants.
The craftsmanship that Mabille was keen to highlight was most obvious in a black velvet column with a lavishly embroidered and beaded bodice. Random trompe l'oeil petals cascaded down its front. It was the kind of seemingly throwaway gesture that confirms Mabille's sly talent.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Right now, in the Paris hotel rooms of many fashion editors, there are bunches of flowers, plastic-wrapped and raffia-tied. When they returned to their rooms after the Dior couture show today, did the attendees make the connection between what they'd just seen on the catwalk and what was sitting in a vase in front of them? Stephen Jones created headgear that looked like a florist's plastic wrap. Someone else contributed the raffia belts. And nature did the rest. "It's the most inspiring teacher," said John Galliano, after a show that was a hymn to all things floral.
Part of his research involved studying real flowers, spending an hour watching the light change on a parrot tulip, for instance. That partly explained the collection's wonderful colors, especially the vibrancy of the dégradé effects. You could attribute the rest to Galliano's contemplation of images by the two great flower photographers de nos jours, Irving Penn and Nick Knight. Dior himself obliged with the silhouette, a tulip shape that Galliano seemed to feel Mr. Christian had never really made the most of. He certainly sorted that out.
Perhaps it was the precision of the inspiration that accounted for the show's clarity, not only in the palette but in the delicate techniques. The fronding, the feathering, the ruching, the ruffling—all duplicated the extraordinary intricacies of flowers. Delicate they may be in nature, but his objects of study gave Galliano free rein to be bold with a coat like a huge inverted daffodil and a dress in black taffeta that was hand-painted with pansies. It's unlikely that when he compared himself to a jardinière tending his blooms, the designer had attendees like Blake Lively, Jessica Alba, and Lou Doillon in mind, but you could imagine them being seduced by his hybrids, the jacket and skirt combinations like the white felt over lilac organza, or the jade mohair with a swoop of portrait neckline over a petaled bubble of black organza.
In an Edenic fashion world, this would be the daywear that would fully complement evening dresses of an extraordinary dimension—gigantic domes of tulle overlaid with gloriously colored swags of organza. On the opening day of the Paris couture, the casual insolence of the draped one-shoulder outfit that closed the show was a provocation. "Beat this," it declared.
—Tim Blanks
Part of his research involved studying real flowers, spending an hour watching the light change on a parrot tulip, for instance. That partly explained the collection's wonderful colors, especially the vibrancy of the dégradé effects. You could attribute the rest to Galliano's contemplation of images by the two great flower photographers de nos jours, Irving Penn and Nick Knight. Dior himself obliged with the silhouette, a tulip shape that Galliano seemed to feel Mr. Christian had never really made the most of. He certainly sorted that out.
Perhaps it was the precision of the inspiration that accounted for the show's clarity, not only in the palette but in the delicate techniques. The fronding, the feathering, the ruching, the ruffling—all duplicated the extraordinary intricacies of flowers. Delicate they may be in nature, but his objects of study gave Galliano free rein to be bold with a coat like a huge inverted daffodil and a dress in black taffeta that was hand-painted with pansies. It's unlikely that when he compared himself to a jardinière tending his blooms, the designer had attendees like Blake Lively, Jessica Alba, and Lou Doillon in mind, but you could imagine them being seduced by his hybrids, the jacket and skirt combinations like the white felt over lilac organza, or the jade mohair with a swoop of portrait neckline over a petaled bubble of black organza.
In an Edenic fashion world, this would be the daywear that would fully complement evening dresses of an extraordinary dimension—gigantic domes of tulle overlaid with gloriously colored swags of organza. On the opening day of the Paris couture, the casual insolence of the draped one-shoulder outfit that closed the show was a provocation. "Beat this," it declared.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Clare Waight Keller's knitwear background means she has a natural curiosity about the textures and treatments of fabric. It's one way she's making 195-year-old Pringle of Scotland more modern. From her men's collection for Spring, Keller carried over the waxed silks, glowing reds and blues, and translucent white, in poncho-like shapes. She dissected traditional plaid into grids, which were woven into two tank dresses and layered, one over the other, to form the familiar pattern. She feathered fil coupé for an effect much like a raffia, but softer, for a top and skirt. Keller also engineered knits into a fully fashioned bra and shorts with a cardigan over top. It was a sassy, summery little outfit.
Special effects aside, the designer's overriding goal was a look with the crisp, clean edge of the women in vintage Peter Lindbergh photographs: something as graphic as a white shirt and beautifully tailored pants that could cross from work to play with a minimum of fuss. She's getting there.
—Tim Blanks
Special effects aside, the designer's overriding goal was a look with the crisp, clean edge of the women in vintage Peter Lindbergh photographs: something as graphic as a white shirt and beautifully tailored pants that could cross from work to play with a minimum of fuss. She's getting there.
—Tim Blanks
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"Fun, sensual, insolent." Miuccia Prada's prescription for Miu Miu's Resort collection nailed its naughty little heart. The clothes were inspired by lingerie shapes and lingerie fabrics like crepe de chine, satin, and sable, but there was another story, too. Prada's undying reverence for Yves Saint Laurent is a strong strand of her design DNA, and there were echoes of YSL's notorious 1971 collection, the one that was scandalously inspired by the shady ladies of Paris in the early 1940's. That old-time raciness was reflected in the "come hither" neon brightness of Miu Miu's color palette, carried over into armfuls of bracelets, and prints of apples and hearts whose cuteness was cut by the fact that they were slightly blurred, like a neon sign.
The languid line of a keyhole-neckline crepe dress or the masculine/feminine flared, cuffed cotton drill pants paired with a fitted military jacket could have been out of Dietrich's closet (her again!), except that the designer preferred the more playful, less ambiguous comedienne Carole Lombard as a reference. "Keep things simplest" is Miuccia's new mantra. Word to the lookbook: one of the most seductive re-creations yet of the glamorous harpies who ruled the pages of Vogue Paris in the heady seventies. As far as the historical references go, Miuccia's convinced nobody remembers anything anyway, which means that Miu Miu fans will find irresistibly colored clothes in proportions that look sexy and new to them.
—Tim Blanks
The languid line of a keyhole-neckline crepe dress or the masculine/feminine flared, cuffed cotton drill pants paired with a fitted military jacket could have been out of Dietrich's closet (her again!), except that the designer preferred the more playful, less ambiguous comedienne Carole Lombard as a reference. "Keep things simplest" is Miuccia's new mantra. Word to the lookbook: one of the most seductive re-creations yet of the glamorous harpies who ruled the pages of Vogue Paris in the heady seventies. As far as the historical references go, Miuccia's convinced nobody remembers anything anyway, which means that Miu Miu fans will find irresistibly colored clothes in proportions that look sexy and new to them.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Ennio Capasa poured on the sex appeal at his last two runway shows, inching hems way, way up the legs and cutting leather second-skin-tight. For Resort, he focused on the label's bread and butter, sophisticated tailoring with a dollop of edge. A white tuxedo with a notched lapel looked sleek and sexy; his gray flannel double-breasted pantsuit was boxier yet still sharply cut. If a pair of tops with built-in scarves to wrap around the neck looked too much like a Phoebe Philo-ism, Capasa was back on home turf for evening. Two black gowns closed the lineup, one fitted and clingy, the other asymmetrically draped—both unfettered and utterly simple. It's when Capasa does understatement that his clothes have the biggest impact.
—Nicole Phelps
—Nicole Phelps
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In its heyday, Cerruti's womenswear elegantly tempered men's tailoring with soft sensuality. It's an aesthetic that Richard Nicoll instinctively understands, as proven by a Resort collection that featured structured jackets layered over elongated, silky draped tops, or an overcoat in double-faced gabardine topping tapered, printed pants. Nicoll's clothes are distinctly urban in their impact. Here, he deconstructed an oversized mac and put it back together again as a chic biker jacket, and used a substantial jersey for a cobalt blue pantsuit that offered a smart, athletic update to power dressing. "For the active working woman," the designer said with a laugh. It was the kind of outfit that exemplified the "bourgeois codes of dressing" Nicoll thinks are fundamental to Cerruti. Still, a white organza jacket with linen lapels was equally part of his equation. He paired it with a tank and bermudas for a seductive take on the city suit. With time, Nicoll may very well give Cerruti a running chance at a renaissance.
—Tim Blanks
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Francesco Scognamiglio has received a lot of press lately for dressing Lady Gaga—not only on the red carpet, but also in her Madonna-esque video for "Alejandro." He's also outfitted her Madgesty, for that matter. The emerging Italian designer is manna for fashion risk takers, but he's playing it safe for Resort, riffing on the season's most popular motifs: cardigans and T-shirt dresses in blue and white marinière stripes and denim sailor pants, with accents of anchors and embroidered crests here and there. There was also a very pretty floral print for a party dress and a matching cardigan. "The inspiration is Capri, which is near my hometown, Pompei," he said. We can't quite make out what a prim white blouse and ankle-scraping black skirt have to do with the Italian vacation spot, but we could see Gaga in them.
—Nicole Phelps
—Nicole Phelps
Posted :
With a collection that put the sports in sportswear, Balenciaga's Nicolas Ghesquière turned his back on formality in favor of an emphasis on speed, mobility, and all things technical. The fabrics ran a gamut from shiny treated cotton to something whose selling point was its bulletproof-ness—call it Kevlar-lite. The lineup's futuristic tinge meshed more compatibly than previously with Ghesquière's work on the house's womenswear (and the lookbook compounded the compatibility still further). And even minus the chilly android styling, the clothes had plenty to recommend them.
Ghesquière loves a trim silhouette, so everything was belted to the body (some belts had an almost corsetlike grip); though unleashed, a pair of mackintoshes with leather revers had an appealing volume. More modernist than futurist were the wind parkas and sleeveless jackets, gray, white, and black being the favored shades, with startling accents of yellow and orange. Given the proclaimed technical nature of the collection, it was interesting that some of the strongest pieces were good old-fashioned leather, albeit in the form of an orange jean jacket or a two-tone motocross/safari hybrid. The mix of alien and familiar was, in fact, the real strength here, graphically illustrated by denim that had been folded, waxed, and then unfolded to produce a zebralike pattern.
—Tim Blanks
Ghesquière loves a trim silhouette, so everything was belted to the body (some belts had an almost corsetlike grip); though unleashed, a pair of mackintoshes with leather revers had an appealing volume. More modernist than futurist were the wind parkas and sleeveless jackets, gray, white, and black being the favored shades, with startling accents of yellow and orange. Given the proclaimed technical nature of the collection, it was interesting that some of the strongest pieces were good old-fashioned leather, albeit in the form of an orange jean jacket or a two-tone motocross/safari hybrid. The mix of alien and familiar was, in fact, the real strength here, graphically illustrated by denim that had been folded, waxed, and then unfolded to produce a zebralike pattern.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Kim Jones' kid-in-a-candy-store reign at Dunhill continues this season with his discovery in the archives of a cigarette lighter that Picasso engraved with a portrait of his mistress Dora Maar. The house's heritage is wayward enough that you'd imagine Jones indulging his own magpie sensibility to his heart's content, and there's certainly something of that in the accessories that were visible on the catwalk. The hip flasks the models were carrying, for instance. But magpie or not, Jones once again exhibited discipline and restraint in this tightly edited show. The focus was tailoring, with the key jacket a high-closing, one-button double-breasted that tracked back to male members of the Bloomsbury group, the English bohos who set the cultural tone of the country in the early twentieth century. That may sound retro, but the jacket had shape and ease, which made it timely.
The collar-and-tie formality of the show was a reflection of Jones' commitment to the resuscitation of the English gentleman. A catwalk possibly wasn't the best place to appreciate the subtlety of his detailing, particularly the shirtings. On the other hand, the handful of sleek, modern outerwear pieces he showed—especially a couple of suede jackets with piped seams—made one yearn for the days when he was reconceptualizing English sportswear. The mere fact they were even in this collection suggests that the designer is working toward a reconciliation of the needs of Dunhill and the wants of Kim Jones. When that happens, this collection will really lift off.
—Tim Blanks
The collar-and-tie formality of the show was a reflection of Jones' commitment to the resuscitation of the English gentleman. A catwalk possibly wasn't the best place to appreciate the subtlety of his detailing, particularly the shirtings. On the other hand, the handful of sleek, modern outerwear pieces he showed—especially a couple of suede jackets with piped seams—made one yearn for the days when he was reconceptualizing English sportswear. The mere fact they were even in this collection suggests that the designer is working toward a reconciliation of the needs of Dunhill and the wants of Kim Jones. When that happens, this collection will really lift off.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Fashion is a means to an end for Agnès B., a platform for her engagement with the world through art, social activism, and strategic alliances. For instance, at her show this season, she gave away a bottle of water that Philippe Starck has designed to publicize a French initiative to make access to clean drinking water a universal right. This meeting of the minds with Starck is the kind of rencontre she loves. And that sense of collaboration could have been the theme of her latest show. Alongside the catwalk pros, Agnès had rounded up a random crowd of friends and relatives of all ages to model her new collection.
Fact is, this designer's clothes define a strand of style that the world recognizes from French movies. It's slightly boho, slightly scruffy, long on diffidence and charm. All the elements were present here: biker jacket, duffel coat, safari jacket, marine stripes with sailor cap to match; the kind of vintage American influence—army surplus, college boy, baseball jackets, and jeans—that France has swallowed whole since the days of Brando and Dean. What Agnès brought to the party was color, a lightness of touch—the biker jacket was navy cotton, the jeans were purple, the duffel coat was linen—and a sense of humor, which surely explains a Napoleonic detour, complete with sash and bicorne.
—Tim Blanks
Fact is, this designer's clothes define a strand of style that the world recognizes from French movies. It's slightly boho, slightly scruffy, long on diffidence and charm. All the elements were present here: biker jacket, duffel coat, safari jacket, marine stripes with sailor cap to match; the kind of vintage American influence—army surplus, college boy, baseball jackets, and jeans—that France has swallowed whole since the days of Brando and Dean. What Agnès brought to the party was color, a lightness of touch—the biker jacket was navy cotton, the jeans were purple, the duffel coat was linen—and a sense of humor, which surely explains a Napoleonic detour, complete with sash and bicorne.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
You want a great night out to go on forever. At least that's how Acne's Jonny Johansson felt after partying at Le Tango in Paris with Christopher Lundmann and the rest of his men's design team. It made him think of the kind of summer dances he used to go to when he was growing up in the Swedish countryside, and from that came a collection that combined a seventies silhouette with the disco languor of jersey and an androgynous schoolboy element.
Imagine a Junior League Studio 54 in Stockholm, and you'll get a sense of Johansson's nostalgic fun factor. Schoolboy shorts and layered T-shirts shared space with a lean double-breasted navy suit, the pants high-waisted and flared, or a pair of leather dungarees that suggested another sort of seventies club altogether. Walking through the collection, Lundmann insisted that, concise as it was, it comprised an entire summer wardrobe, from sporty day to dressed-up night (the metallic sandals were a contemporary touch). The lingering impression was that these were clothes that would equally suit Acne boys and Acne girls, and you get the feeling that's not something Johansson would be particularly upset about.
—Tim Blanks
Imagine a Junior League Studio 54 in Stockholm, and you'll get a sense of Johansson's nostalgic fun factor. Schoolboy shorts and layered T-shirts shared space with a lean double-breasted navy suit, the pants high-waisted and flared, or a pair of leather dungarees that suggested another sort of seventies club altogether. Walking through the collection, Lundmann insisted that, concise as it was, it comprised an entire summer wardrobe, from sporty day to dressed-up night (the metallic sandals were a contemporary touch). The lingering impression was that these were clothes that would equally suit Acne boys and Acne girls, and you get the feeling that's not something Johansson would be particularly upset about.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
The venue for Thom Browne's Paris debut was a modernist architectural landmark—the headquarters of France's Communist Party, designed by Oscar Niemeyer. The mind ran riot. How would the master showman of fashion surrealism rise to his surroundings? Surely there'd be at least one guy in a long train. Well, surprise, surprise. Browne left the architecture to speak for itself as he mounted his most commercial show to date.
The opening—a march-past of "astronauts"—promised signature space oddities from Browne, but then the man-droids stripped off their jumpsuits to reveal two-button jackets, Bermuda shorts, and kneesocks underneath. In other words, a straightforward presentation of one of the designer's most sellable looks in an all-styles-served-here range of options, from his own classic gray flannel to a shimmering sequined plaid. The designer loves a uniform, and this is probably his most uniform look, so the event acted as a newcomer's introduction to his singular aesthetic. For those already partial to his work, it was a chance to see Browne's concentration on his craft: the fabric development, the appliqués, the embroidery, even his morbid wit (one motif featured a shark pursuing innocent little goldfish).
—Tim Blanks
The opening—a march-past of "astronauts"—promised signature space oddities from Browne, but then the man-droids stripped off their jumpsuits to reveal two-button jackets, Bermuda shorts, and kneesocks underneath. In other words, a straightforward presentation of one of the designer's most sellable looks in an all-styles-served-here range of options, from his own classic gray flannel to a shimmering sequined plaid. The designer loves a uniform, and this is probably his most uniform look, so the event acted as a newcomer's introduction to his singular aesthetic. For those already partial to his work, it was a chance to see Browne's concentration on his craft: the fabric development, the appliqués, the embroidery, even his morbid wit (one motif featured a shark pursuing innocent little goldfish).
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
It feels like Paul Smith has spent so long embedded in the early sixties sharp-suited mod end of the London style spectrum that this season's embrace of the rather less structured late sixties was cause for celebration. With Donovan, Hawkwind, and Led Zeppelin on the soundtrack, Sir Paul showed tie-dyed silks, star-studded pants, and a jacket in a tone-on-tone print that looked like the kind of William Morris wallpaper pattern rich hippies used to drool over.
Smith caught the mood of that moment, when androgynous boys would shop in antiques markets for old blouses or throw a vintage evening jacket over a T-shirt. He got the shabbiness right, and the colors too, especially a particular shade of maroon. A silver trench looked like a perfectly cosmic coverall. But it's hard to know what a Smith aficionado would make of such a change in direction.
—Tim Blanks
Smith caught the mood of that moment, when androgynous boys would shop in antiques markets for old blouses or throw a vintage evening jacket over a T-shirt. He got the shabbiness right, and the colors too, especially a particular shade of maroon. A silver trench looked like a perfectly cosmic coverall. But it's hard to know what a Smith aficionado would make of such a change in direction.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
"An antidote to laziness," was how Alber Elbaz described the show for Lanvin's menswear today. It was all about action, mobility, urgency—to the point where some of the clothes had a frenetic, unfinished quality, with ragged seams swirling around the body and rough hems edging, among other things, a biker-influenced jacket.
Elsewhere, there were the narrow silhouette and the fundamental athleticism of torsos wrapped at waist or shoulder, or the sporty leanness of a striped top over what looked like bike shorts. This morphing between high performance and something more conservative was the not-quite-sportswear essence of the collection.
Both Elbaz and his lieutenant, Lucas Ossendrijver, put the emphasis squarely on textures. "You want to touch them," said Ossendrijver, "It's something intimate." A suit in floral embossed silk cloque certainly met that criterion. So did a hooded coat in a complex patchwork. Intimacy defines Lanvin's womenswear. Its recognition here underlined what Elbaz acknowledged as a growing synergy between the men's and women's ranges. "Togetherness is really strong in this collection," he remarked.
That was probably why jewelry was such a major issue in the show. It was big, bold, and barbaric. "Souvenirs," said Ossendrijver. "When women can wear pants, men can wear jewelry," Elbaz added. And, truth be told, this season it was the baubles that carried a lot of the subversive, insidious charm that has made Lanvin menswear such a draw for retailers.
—Tim Blanks
Elsewhere, there were the narrow silhouette and the fundamental athleticism of torsos wrapped at waist or shoulder, or the sporty leanness of a striped top over what looked like bike shorts. This morphing between high performance and something more conservative was the not-quite-sportswear essence of the collection.
Both Elbaz and his lieutenant, Lucas Ossendrijver, put the emphasis squarely on textures. "You want to touch them," said Ossendrijver, "It's something intimate." A suit in floral embossed silk cloque certainly met that criterion. So did a hooded coat in a complex patchwork. Intimacy defines Lanvin's womenswear. Its recognition here underlined what Elbaz acknowledged as a growing synergy between the men's and women's ranges. "Togetherness is really strong in this collection," he remarked.
That was probably why jewelry was such a major issue in the show. It was big, bold, and barbaric. "Souvenirs," said Ossendrijver. "When women can wear pants, men can wear jewelry," Elbaz added. And, truth be told, this season it was the baubles that carried a lot of the subversive, insidious charm that has made Lanvin menswear such a draw for retailers.
—Tim Blanks
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With its Swedish roots, Acne has no weighty fashion heritage to live up to.
"We can do what we want," says company founder Jonny Johansson. For Resort,
that meant a collection that was, somewhat incongruously, inspired by
Black White + Gray, the recent documentary about the
relationship between Sam Wagstaff and Robert Mapplethorpe. "Their mix of
uptown and downtown, against a backdrop of 1970's New York," was how
Johansson described it. Hence the leather pants and waistcoats with butch
biker caps. A leather shift dress was saddle-stitched in a technique the
Swedes call laskad. And, this being Acne, all skins were
bio-leather from an old artisanal company.
Balancing the butchness were fluid, drapey pieces in washed jersey, like a suit with a definite shoulder, sort of seventies going on forties, but sinuous enough to strip away the formality. A jersey halter dress had a whiff of Halston about it. And there was some of that designer's easy glamour in a cardigan jacket in black paillettes. Johansson referenced the jewelry Mapplethorpe designed with skull and crystal pendants. "I like a bit of spirituality," he said. That, however, was decidedly lacking in the shoe style called Pixel, with its literally killer heel of one long single nail.
—Tim Blanks
Balancing the butchness were fluid, drapey pieces in washed jersey, like a suit with a definite shoulder, sort of seventies going on forties, but sinuous enough to strip away the formality. A jersey halter dress had a whiff of Halston about it. And there was some of that designer's easy glamour in a cardigan jacket in black paillettes. Johansson referenced the jewelry Mapplethorpe designed with skull and crystal pendants. "I like a bit of spirituality," he said. That, however, was decidedly lacking in the shoe style called Pixel, with its literally killer heel of one long single nail.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
The first fashion show Raf Simons ever saw was Martin Margiela's third collection in 1991. He was so moved he cried, and right then and there he decided he wanted to be a fashion designer, too. It was such a landmark moment for him that he claimed his own 15th-anniversary show in Paris tonight was an homage. But in fact, the designer he was primarily quoting from, in a collection that reaffirmed his status as menswear's most forward-looking practitioner, was himself.
The music by the Smashing Pumpkins included "Tonight, Tonight," which soundtracked Simons' first show in 1997. (According to Michel Gaubert, Simons' longtime musical collaborator, it was entirely coincidental that Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, the album it was on, was actually released in 1995, the year the designer launched his business.) The tailoring, in which he pared away such superfluities as sleeves, is a Simons signature. He has done collections focused on white, on intense color, and on sports, all of which appeared here tonight. The pants that ended in puddles of fabric were from an old show, and the photographic collages he deployed were in the vein of another longtime collaborator, Antwerp artist/writer Peter de Potter. Above all, the model casting underlined Simons' career-long reverence for the vulnerable, transient beauty of youth, the celebration of which has been fundamental to all his collections.
But the show was far from a retrospective. "How we would be real," the words on one T-shirt, cut to the quick of Simons' obsession. He has always challenged orthodoxy, deconstructing and reconstructing in the name of the new. Here, the dominant motif was the zipper, huge industrial-looking versions that trailed down the back—and in many cases, the front too—of almost everything. The zip pulls were extended metallic strips, apparently borrowed from surf wear. Something that big begs to be pulled, and such an open invitation to revelation somehow seemed like the core of the collection.
The final outfit was a perfectly tailored two-button navy suit with a shirt and tie. No zips, no tricks. It felt like a confident, this-is-how-far-I've-come declaration. Indeed, after the show, Simons was talking about how far menswear generally has progressed during his years in business. His anniversary collection seemed intended to illuminate the possibilities that still exist, for him as much as for any other designer. Who knows, maybe there was someone in the audience who would take this show as his own "Eureka!" moment, just as Simons did with Margiela nearly two decades earlier.
—Tim Blanks
The music by the Smashing Pumpkins included "Tonight, Tonight," which soundtracked Simons' first show in 1997. (According to Michel Gaubert, Simons' longtime musical collaborator, it was entirely coincidental that Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, the album it was on, was actually released in 1995, the year the designer launched his business.) The tailoring, in which he pared away such superfluities as sleeves, is a Simons signature. He has done collections focused on white, on intense color, and on sports, all of which appeared here tonight. The pants that ended in puddles of fabric were from an old show, and the photographic collages he deployed were in the vein of another longtime collaborator, Antwerp artist/writer Peter de Potter. Above all, the model casting underlined Simons' career-long reverence for the vulnerable, transient beauty of youth, the celebration of which has been fundamental to all his collections.
But the show was far from a retrospective. "How we would be real," the words on one T-shirt, cut to the quick of Simons' obsession. He has always challenged orthodoxy, deconstructing and reconstructing in the name of the new. Here, the dominant motif was the zipper, huge industrial-looking versions that trailed down the back—and in many cases, the front too—of almost everything. The zip pulls were extended metallic strips, apparently borrowed from surf wear. Something that big begs to be pulled, and such an open invitation to revelation somehow seemed like the core of the collection.
The final outfit was a perfectly tailored two-button navy suit with a shirt and tie. No zips, no tricks. It felt like a confident, this-is-how-far-I've-come declaration. Indeed, after the show, Simons was talking about how far menswear generally has progressed during his years in business. His anniversary collection seemed intended to illuminate the possibilities that still exist, for him as much as for any other designer. Who knows, maybe there was someone in the audience who would take this show as his own "Eureka!" moment, just as Simons did with Margiela nearly two decades earlier.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
Designer Véronique Nichanian pressed all the Spring 2011 buttons with her collection for Hermès, from the incredible whiteness of the outfits that opened and closed the show to the incredible lightness of a coat, a jacket, and windbreaker cut from a material called "technical madras"—so fine it was almost sheer. Then there were the shorts, the sandals, the summer skins, and the requisite accent of intense color (here a green that Nichanian called mint, but was more emerald).
Hermès is the quiet storm of the luxury world, but rather than resting on her platinum laurels Nichanian has steadily loosened the stays of heritage. This season, she introduced vêtements hybrids, or hybrid clothing, like the shirt with a blouson back, or a diagonal zip closing, or a hood. The same kind of relaxed spirit dictated notch lapels on her double-breasted jackets (a small detail, but it felt modern). The house is legendary for its skins, but the company's founders could hardly have imagined suede being used for a bright green T-shirt, a tobacco-colored camp shirt, or sand-toned pajamas. The emblematic Hermès horse bit, meanwhile, was printed in an impressionistic blur on a silk shirt. Again, that felt like the kind of update that wouldn't frighten the horses of the traditional clients, while it just might attract a new, younger customer, the juiciest prey on the luxury frontier. Nichanian has become a pro at balancing the two without, it seems, any compromise.
—Tim Blanks
Hermès is the quiet storm of the luxury world, but rather than resting on her platinum laurels Nichanian has steadily loosened the stays of heritage. This season, she introduced vêtements hybrids, or hybrid clothing, like the shirt with a blouson back, or a diagonal zip closing, or a hood. The same kind of relaxed spirit dictated notch lapels on her double-breasted jackets (a small detail, but it felt modern). The house is legendary for its skins, but the company's founders could hardly have imagined suede being used for a bright green T-shirt, a tobacco-colored camp shirt, or sand-toned pajamas. The emblematic Hermès horse bit, meanwhile, was printed in an impressionistic blur on a silk shirt. Again, that felt like the kind of update that wouldn't frighten the horses of the traditional clients, while it just might attract a new, younger customer, the juiciest prey on the luxury frontier. Nichanian has become a pro at balancing the two without, it seems, any compromise.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
The story of how Kenzo Takada came from Tokyo to Paris in the sixties, opening up a dialogue between the two cities that has been one of the most influential in fashion, will be repeated often this year as the company he founded celebrates its 40th anniversary. For Kenzo's new men's collection, creative director Antonio Marras imagined a journey in the other direction: a French artist traveling to Tokyo for the first time and absorbing the intricacies of Japanese culture into his own style. Given Marras' knack for storytelling, it was a perfect match of designer and inspiration. Without ever veering into archness or costume, he created a wardrobe that had enough idiosyncratic flourish to subtly appeal to any man's latent dandy.
At first, he dressed his artist in jackets, pants, and tops in the Mediterranean blue-white-and-stripes story that's emerging as one of the season's most appealing trends. After that, he transported him to the Far East, where artisanal weaving, crocheting, quilting, and dyeing techniques added new depth to familiar Western items. It was striking in a suit transformed by splodges of Japanese watercolor (whether ink, bleach, or paint, that splodge story is another theme for Spring 2011), in outerwear lightly quilted and layered, and in the tone-on-tone use of intense color.
A handful of distinctive women, including actress Joana Preiss and model Hannelore Knuts, walked in the show wearing clothes from the men's collection. Marras asked them to choose their own outfits because he wanted to show how pieces designed for a man's body could still look great on women. "That's the freedom of Kenzo, the breaking of rules," he said.
—Tim Blanks
At first, he dressed his artist in jackets, pants, and tops in the Mediterranean blue-white-and-stripes story that's emerging as one of the season's most appealing trends. After that, he transported him to the Far East, where artisanal weaving, crocheting, quilting, and dyeing techniques added new depth to familiar Western items. It was striking in a suit transformed by splodges of Japanese watercolor (whether ink, bleach, or paint, that splodge story is another theme for Spring 2011), in outerwear lightly quilted and layered, and in the tone-on-tone use of intense color.
A handful of distinctive women, including actress Joana Preiss and model Hannelore Knuts, walked in the show wearing clothes from the men's collection. Marras asked them to choose their own outfits because he wanted to show how pieces designed for a man's body could still look great on women. "That's the freedom of Kenzo, the breaking of rules," he said.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :
An all-white collection of clothes that cleaved close to the body signaled a change on the Ann Demeulemeester catwalk. Gone were the shadowy, poetic layers, replaced by pieces so clinical and precise they wouldn't have looked out of place in a Viennese fencing academy, or on the attendants of an upscale insane asylum (the white breastplates also looked like deconstructed straitjackets). Where there was volume, as in a silken parka or a jacquard coat, it was kept in check by a wide elasticated cummerbund that could probably work Spanx-like wonders on a wayward midriff, as well.
The show seemed over in a flash, but while the audience was uncertainly applauding, it started up again, duplicated detail for detail in black, with the cotton of the first course often replaced by leather. "I wanted to see what would happen," said Demeulemeester of the switcheroo. "Things look quite different. It's a different emotion."
She was almost right. Of course, white cotton and black leather are scarcely of the same family, but while you might expect the leather to have a dark, vaguely threatening cast, it was extraordinary how sinister the purest white could look as well. It was an intriguing experiment. And we're glad that Ann does these things, so we don't have to.
—Tim Blanks
The show seemed over in a flash, but while the audience was uncertainly applauding, it started up again, duplicated detail for detail in black, with the cotton of the first course often replaced by leather. "I wanted to see what would happen," said Demeulemeester of the switcheroo. "Things look quite different. It's a different emotion."
She was almost right. Of course, white cotton and black leather are scarcely of the same family, but while you might expect the leather to have a dark, vaguely threatening cast, it was extraordinary how sinister the purest white could look as well. It was an intriguing experiment. And we're glad that Ann does these things, so we don't have to.
—Tim Blanks
Posted :