Tuesday, 22 February 2011

LONDON FASHION WEEK 2011 Day 4

Day 4. I'm excited. We've got Erdem and Paul Smith. I covet. If these two designers were boys who I fancied at school, I'd be torn. I'd snog both. At the same party. And I'd get away with it because they were in TOTALLY different cliques. 
Paul Smith is what I call Hoxton Cool. For people who are being cool, and don't they know it. Admittedly, this look often appeals to me. How ever much I scoff and scorn the Kool Rich Kidz of Shoreditch, with their thick rimmed specs and geek chic androgyny, pah I'm straight in Paul Smith the next day with my Bag for Life. 








Erdem. It's all about print and fabric. It's ART. Oh yes. It's Jackson Pollack, Turner and Monet all having a roll around with each other in the long grasses on a summer's day. ART. 



 


Peter Pilotto, Michael van der Ham, Mark Fast, Burberry Prorsum, Christopher Kane & Giles by Giles Deacon also made my grade. 
 
Especially loved Christopher Kane's flapper dress cut.
Peter Pilotto's collection was like a Rothko painting.
Michael van der Ham was all about COLOUR and VELVET. 
Mark Fast rocked out in black leather. 
Giles paraded 1950s Chanel-esque bunny girls. 
Burberry Prorsum had so many amazing coats I wanted to cry. 
 
These looks are HOT.
 

Peter Pilotto A/W '11

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 





 
 
 
Michael van der Ham




 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 


 
Mark Fast A/W '11

 

 
Christopher Kane A/W '11




 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 


 
Christopher Kane A/W '11

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
Giles A/W '11
















 








Giles A/W '11

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 


 
 
Burberry Prorsum A/W'11
















 








Burberry Prorsum A/W '11

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
Burberry Prorsum A/W '11
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
It looks set to be a good season for fashion. My senses are tingling. Day 5 approacheth... HEAVEN.

LONDON FASHION WEEK 2011 Day 3

Phewie! It's as if A/W '11 has fallen into a packet of Fizz Wiz popping candy. It's so SPARKY. 
Day 3 HAS to be my favourite so far. Today I'm thinking what I could WEAR. Actually step out of my front door and give it some ass shake down that street, homie. Past the flirtatious Italians in the Cafe. "Si Amigo, I'm working this, Gawd Daaaymn!" Yeah, you look, you stare, Luigi...whatever your name is. I'm straight off the runway and I'm SO NOW. 
Or maybe not. But I'd like to think that designers can create for the humble citizen, the observer - not follower - of fashion. Day 3: you have provided. 




Viv, you were, as usual, a dream. Her Red Label had it all. Signature tartan, beautifully cut ruche dresses, & land-girl utility. I would wear it all. Out. Right now. Pret à porter. Luigi, put my panini on the grill man.




Osman was stunning. Elegant, long, skimming gowns but so very contemporary. I heart this catwalk, the blue SMEEEAAR. Edgy. And that pink?? Get me my cheque book. It's hurting me. Give me. GIVE IT TO ME. (please) (for free)




Not normally my first choice, but Matthew Williamson was SMOKIN' LIKE A STOVE this season. Coats especially. And this flapper-esque blue dipped dress. Well. Matthew. You can come again.




Mulberry upped its game as well. Personally, I love floor-length. And this is definitely how to do it for Autumn/Winter. 


A small offering from Margaret Howell. Tapped into period minimalism. 'Brief Encounter' meets an archeological dig in 1940s Egypt. Done and done.


Love this Ann-Sofie Back Atelje dress. Shower chic.



 
A bit more lavish and late-night, Temperley London always is the place to look for wearable evening or cocktail looks. Alice Temperley is a waft of high-brow, highly feminine glamour. It was all very Valentino, and that is a very good thing.

LONDON FASHION WEEK 2011 Day 2

I was, sadly, a little disappointed by Day 2. 
House of Holland, which is always underlined in my 'things to love', upset, nay, confused me. Usually Mr Holland's eclectic mix of colour, pattern & daring hits my F-spot, a la his S/S '11 collection. Kerr-pow. A/W '11 kind of air kissed my tightie whiteies. 
Close. But no cigar. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
I get the 'chanelling gran' look he was aiming for, but I'm sure my gran wore something similar to a Bad Taste party back in the 70s. 
There was also a lot of folky patchwork happening. 
I used to have a blanket like this when I was a child. 
Eventually, it ended up as the cat's chewed duvet. 
My cat died. 
Bad memories, difficult associations. 
It was never going to work out. Apologies Henry. 

 
Tabby, R.I.P xxx





















However, sexy things coming from Louise Gray -och aye- and John Rocha -ni hao-.
 

 

Louise Gray had a super cool catwalk, very graphic. 
Electro-house rave. All OVER it.
 

 
 

Then John Rocha came over all Victoriana gothic. 
LOVE this look. 


I'm thinking a collaboration with Polly Morgan and some macabre (yet exquisite...& road-kill friendly) taxidermy? You're welcome.
 Polly Morgan, Systemic Inflammation (20100)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Awesome.

LONDON FASHION WEEK 2011 Day 1

It has arrived. London Fashion Week 2011. 
Alexa Chung & Olivia Palermo are here. Therefore, by association, it's the place to be. Surely they are sponsored by the word 'fashion' these days? Let's look it up in my Collin's Dictionary...oh, no, they're not. Sorry girls. Don't worry, I'm certain there are other punters queueing up to back a fashion horse. Speaking of horses, where's Keira? No, stop it. Tsk, I'm naughty today. Clearly ovulating. I'll have a cup of calming tea. And 'scene'.
Some of my favourite looks from day 1. Stand-out collections from Maria Grachvogel & Paul Costello. They win the prize. A regal nod. *She nods, regally*. There, well done.




LOVE Paul Costelloe's avatar girls. They looked like virtual autumnal nymphs. And his looks are TOTALLY day-time, work-time wearable. Beam me up, Paulio...



 

 
Ok Miss Grachvogel. Let's talk about this demure, elfin lady. 
Does she not design as if she were an old humdinger, the kind of lady you might see on the tube whom you just KNOW was once draped in vintage fur, puffing a slim cigarette like a seductive steam train? (For 'Jules et Jim' lovers.) And you think "You GO old lady, you look a treat!". 
Then I remember that Maria Grachvogel is not an old lady. She was not alive in the early 30s. She is just a GENIUS. YES, GENIUS. 
I admit, her A/W '11 collection tugs on all my Hollywood Silver Screen heartstrings, and I am a mess. 
Modern mixed with good old-fashioned glamour. But so very simple. We like simple. 

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Stockholm syndrome

I've caught Stockholm Syndrome.

Forgive my blog-sence. Absence with a 'blog' pun.

For my sins, I recently have abandoned you bloggers, without a sniff, a word, a priceless nugget of wisdom. I apologise. I blog-ogize.
Enough now.
 
I've missed you.
 
Anyway, after the madness I immediately fled overseas as all the best royals do. And good Lordy it was good. Lordy.
Sweden is one of my favourite places. If we're talking colours, it's a big, burning plate of green, blue, yellow, pink, with a few bears to boot. It reminds me of another of my bests, Oregon. They are the Jess Stams, the Angela Lindvalls of land-mass. They are just too beautiful. And it makes me want to cry/kiss them.
So Stockholm it was. You gotta go. We stayed in a Design Hotel next to the Moderna Museet. Every morning I breathed in cool. 
And it's Stockholm Fashion Week. Acne. Carin Wester. Rodebjer. Mini Market. 



 
Älskar.
Acne Resort 2011
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
Whyred A/W 11-12
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Acne Pre-Autumn 2011


Tuesday, 16 November 2010

The London Word interview

Oooooooh just a little interview I did for The London Word, a rather cool online magazine, written by the delectable Miss Lottie O'Conor. She has grasped the essence of my often confused, often controversial self splendidly.
 

Hang on. Did I just go and self-promote?

Yup.
 
 

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Passion, The Donmar


THE show that everyone has been RAVING about. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, naturellement. Passion is one Sondheim musical that I know nothing of. It is the winter flu of my musical theatre world - should I prepare for it and am I going to get it? WELL I went totally unprepared, not knowing the story, music, NO nothing not-a-thing, and I was READY to understand the secrets that lay beneath. Don't say that I'm not daring...
 
Director Jamie Lloyd has created a beautifully atmospheric production - lighting and audio are excellently and effectively employed to summon up beating, warm rain or daylight streaming through towering shutters, perfectly evoking the grandeur of 19th century Italy, where the story unfolds. An overall, haunted feel is created throughout the one-act production, with candles musting the air and costume designed to reflect the stark contrast between the masculine military austerity and the female blithe spirit.
Lloyd's direction is faultless. Movement is a sublime mixture of ethereal poise ruptured by measured, soldierly precision. The narrative is painted in the space romantically, with dream-like quality. Spellbinding moments occur as the all-male ensemble lend their combined voices to Sondheim's closely-knit harmonies.
 
Scarlett Strallen as the refined, lithe Clara floats balletically across the space, entertwining with synchronic scenes at the provincial army out-post as she reads and writes letters to her love, Giorgio. She is as graceful as ever.
 
David Thaxton's Giorgio however was rather too naive, leading my mind far too swiftly and easily to the predictable conclusion. HE.IS.DOOMED. (I imagine that I might not have been so quickly and innocently led astray myself. SCHOOL BOOK). However in 'No one Has Ever Loved Me' he displays a depth of performance that would have been welcome in his interpretation of Giorgio throughout the rest of the piece. 
 
Elena Roger, the minute ingenue, conjured up the haunted Fosca with powerful, disturbed affliction. Her delicate, exotic voice lilts so skillfully from piercing pain to soft despair and her slight frame commands attention and caution as the troubled and difficult Fosca in equal amounts. Fosca's 'Loving You' was disturbing, tender and quite simply wonderful. Here, Sondheim and lyricist James Lapine have superbly immersed themselves within the fragile neuroses of a woman. As that wise devil William Congreve said, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Except Fosca is never quite as simple as this quote suggests. Hats off to Elena. She plays in 6D.

The piece, however, is flawed. Above all, this is a tale of love, as the title 'Passion' suggests. Yet, with a score that mostly sails upon one orchestral tide and timbre throughout, the passion feels somewhat overlooked in lieu of romantic sadness and longing. Whether it be at fault of the production or the piece, it is much more affecting to watch people struggle to rise above grief and pain. I rather fear that this epic tale, drenched in a gothic romanticism, allowed the collective cast to drown a little in theirs.
Sondheim's presentation of intertwined love affairs is tangible and studied for the most part, yet there is little comic relief in his composition. Rather, Sondheim has here focussed upon the serious side of love, but without any dramatic or notable musical climax. I felt that, in terms of musical composition, 'subtle' is the key word here. Thus, I remained in an emotional limbo, a kind of wishy-washy dream. Normally Sondheim is the master of musical ebbs and flows that govern emotion in his works. Yet, with only one exposed storyline in Passion, it evident that musical colour is limited.
 
Passion as an emotion is, alas, rarely a wishy-washy affair. Instead, it is achingly raw, and throws one left to right with little care for the consequences. This production remained steadfast, albeit true, to its path straight down the middle. Never quite reaching far enough out of its comfort zone.
 
Was 'PASSION' the passionate ache that I had hoped for? Sadly, no.

Friday, 5 November 2010

Channelling Chanel

I'm a little bit in love with silent film actress Dorothy Janis. 
 

And oh how we all love Marlene.
Meine Damen Dietrich could very well step right on to any catwalk. 
She is a true androgynariun.
Yes I made that word up.
 
Chin up lads, but she was on it years ago. 



On that note...
Chanel adverts win, every time.





Thursday, 4 November 2010

Three Little Maids

The game, my friends, is afoot! Word on the street is this. There will be a fancy free, pretty darn hot cabaret group called Three Little Maids, skulking around the cobbled lanes o' London Town. Tomorrow night. Twill be a dish fit for the gods. Now thereby hangs a tale...
Remember, remember the 5th of November... Believe, for, as good luck would have it, I am one of these Maids. I bear a charmed life, indeed.

Tom James Photography (2010)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
Boguslaw Maslak Photography (2010)


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  



We Three Little Maids are a musical trio composed of Kate, Alex and Jen, three well-bred fillies specializing in 1940s-style close harmony singing, with a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. With a set of delicious and delicately- spiced songs – those familiar, those familiar-with-a-twist, and those as fresh and unweathered as our bonnie complexions – we create our own curious brand of cabaret. 
 
Interested? Dost this set your teeth on edge? Read more...
 

Tom James Photography (2010)















www.threelittlemaids.net

Go on, have a look at our website. Though this be madness, there is method in it. It's a fools paradise for retro-rebels, musical miscreants, jazz jockeys, and those who like a jolly good witticism. We are as merry as the day is long.

Come join us on our wild goose chase tomorrow night 5th November, 10.30pm at the Old Vic Pit Bar, The Cut, London.



Brevity is the charm of wit, so stiffen your sinews and prepare yourselves for short shrift and hot-blooded high time.

Now dost thou understand all that? For my part, it was all Greek to me.
If you are exceedingly well read, you may notice that fine master Shakespeare has made his mark on my mind today. Oh, he dost play the fool with the Queen's English! Such stuff as dreams are made on...Et tu, Brute.
 

Boguslaw Maslak Photography (2010)