I've been feeling dem autumn blues again and vacillate between expecting the new school year vibe to wash over me and make me want to care about dressing and conversely wanting to give up. Then when I think about it I want to do both. And why can't I do both? Mostly because my ultimate desire is to be some curled up in bed watching Fassbinder movies until I fully (read: never) believe in my Teutonic hag potential. Mostly I've been watching the first season of Damages if you want the real God's honest truth and that's what's been keeping me from entertaining any notion of changing the program.
I am very into the idea of making a printed pant and shirt combo a la Miu Miu S/S 2010 in this crazy Peter Woodward for Liberty of London fabric, but also a little like the A.P.C. ads and all those crazy Texas tuxedos that kept popping up for S/S 2011.
A.P.C. had a brilliant shot of one in the new Gentlewoman, which I'm too lazy to scan but it looks like this. Note the disgusting poly blend chambray that is probably too lightweight for a proper pant but is exactly what I love about it. It might also be my own BSC throwback love that I'm not ready to admit because I'm not some dummy living in Bushwick.
Peter Woodward's print looks like some weird manga pajama print. Normally I hate unicorns but when tempered with leaping celestial lions and dragon dogs they are made ok somehow. I think it'd work for an ensemble.
Remember how I said it's all about the cut of the cloth, the cloth itself can be anything, at least in my mind. Realistically this needs to be made into a dress, a Shelley Duvall type apron dress. Or curtains. Both? But those feel like a cop out to the original idea. This print is full on Tsumori Chisato weird but cost prohibitive in terms of going nuts without knowing exactly how much fabric you'll need so you'd need to know an exact amount before beginning. Damn you Liberty for being so expensive and far away and for selling fabric in meters. The Stonecutters and I have something to say about that.
I wish the quality of this video were better because I am having a serious Jones for the full on Rolston color explosion right now. If you had a subscription to Us Magazine before it became Us Weekly you'd know what I was talking about.
I like how the 90s version of the 60s, the 90s version of Fosse, and the 90s version of a Minelli musical all reside in this video. Even the 90s version En Vogue resides within it because they've become the Lady Temptations with a bunch of new members I've never seen before and who are younger than the group itself. This is your OG En Vogue.
My feeling is, you can't be one of the Temps and not have at least been born in the 60s. I feel crazy for even having to make that statement. So to see some En Vogue member who probably wasn't even old enough to have been considered age appropriate for the Destiny's Child upheaval (circa 1999-2000) is distressing to my old oves (that's short for ovaries). It's like old balls but for ladies.
I like revisiting old movies with costumes from even older times. One of my favorite old movies doing an even older time is The Gene Krupa Story starring Sal Mineo and a strain of ganj that is apparently as desperate making as heroin. The costumes are laughably bad, extras look like they showed up after school and were escorted directly onto set. There is a lot of Mad Men season 1 style clothing boppin' around all that swing music. It's pretty great if you adjust your expections and boy did I. Give it a try. You might like it too.
Every version I like of this song has been going through my head all day and a certain bummer anniversary is coming up so it's probably going to continue to idle in my brain for another week. First up, The Band. Oh boy, Eric Clapton is the worst. Skip past him. I do not know if this Bulgarian bootleg is of The Grammys or what but it is live and good and Levon Helm + Rick Danko are crushing it 25 years after The Last Waltz.
Here is the plain version if your computer loads slow as molasses and you need the semi-OG Cahoots version.
Then Elliott Smith (and Sam C.!) are doing it back in the 90s.
I am staunchly in favor of covers. I love them. I love when musicians I love do covers of songs I love. It validates your love of an artist through a mutuality of taste; it's like the best sort of present from the best kind of boyfriend/girlfriend. The ones that are true surprises and exactly what you wanted but did not know you wanted. Not the kind of gift you mention wanting and then get, but them knowing you so well and extrapolating your likes, your inner (corny) essence, into something beyond your own (generally pretty low) expectations. It's actually a double gift because you're getting the gift of being understanding too. Whoa, double rainbow all the way.
They feel very rare these kinds of gifts. Even if rock stars are strangers, them doing a cover of a song you love feels like a sliver of that perfect gift feeling. And if on top of all that pent-up love for covers, you go and make it a Bob Dylan cover well fuck me, I'm plotzed.
I'm sure that reading gawker is like eating right before bed but how else would I come across stuff like this?
I am imagining not gold platform Beckham pumps for the win. Even though I'm not super jazzed by her shoe selection I feel like this is her true self and not all the studs and vinyl and shoulder pads? I get that she's in show business and studs and buckles are to Rihanna, what sequins were to every Bob Mackied starlet ever.
WHAAAAT? Marilyn McCoo and Andy Gibb pre-Gimme a Break! guest spot/MI via OD must be freaked the fuck out? I like that Wendy is holding her own against Madame and Madame isn't being her regular cunty self. I can't believe middle America was interested in W.O.W. ever. I can't guarantee that I saw this performance but I sure did love Solid Gold. If my little brains did see this I am sure it must have informed my earliest nightmares. SO THANKS AMERICAN BROADCASTING COMPANY.
I'm not sure what the thread between these two things was in my head, I just took a couple of benadryls. Maybe my point was studs, buckles and leather mommy shit is as old as sequins? Know yer role? I dunno, she obviously looks bangin' in color and needs to keep it up instead of trying to wear thigh high patent leather boots because she's getting to Beyoncé levels of fame and flesh toned performance pantyhose under said boots looks ridiculous. Leave the leather to the professionals like Wendy.
Ugggh, I loved everything tip to toe. The severe school matron hair all the way down to the platform python wedges. The whole collection felt tight, like Stefano was finally getting his Kaiser on, if you know what I'm saying. Respect the brand! I loved how nearly everything had a belt but didn't look Mobama'd. There was no "cinch it with a belt" feel. I hate the zhuzhing of poorly fitted items with belts to create a waistline. I almost wish for a single term presidency so she'll cease being a style icon. I do not know anyone that cares what she wears and do not understand why 3 years later people are still monitoring her on a daily basis. No one would think of photographing any other "tasteful" rich lady lawyer from Chicago because they are totally boring!
I loved the floral dress they put Lindsey Wixson in, that girl sure is a winner and gets the best outfits. Her face is all the personality she needs. I know Freja opens and closes a lot of shows but her and Snejana's forearm tattoos are NOT invited back to my theoretical runway. Visible tattoos are enough to put me off a designer's look and she is conspicuously not in any of my Spring picks. I don't need your weak personality interfering with a very specific story a designer is trying to sell. This isn't editorial work, cover that shit up. I think too many girls saw Gia as a modeling primer. That story ended in AIDS and bad poetry, so knock that shit off. Again I have to reiterate, tattoos? Really?Still? I'm that emphatic about it.
I'm pretty tired of doing these. Fashion month gets boring much quicker as I get older and I begin to feel like I'm scrolling through lookbook.nu and everyone no matter how interesting, seems to exist on a sliding scale of desperation for acceptance. I'd like to use my editorial eye if I thought it mattered and saved anyone the bother of looking through that boring Hermès show but it probably won't. You weren't going to look at it anyway because you're the worst.