Context does a lot for fashion. I’m not just talking about the world outside the tent, or salon, or wherever designers have positioned their gilt chairs for this season, but about what other designers are showing in their salon/garage/specially-erected plexiglass cube (depends on budget). Of course, part of the dance of fashion is solipsism. Or maybe megalomania. It’s rare you see designers at each others’ shows: Tim Blanks and the team of style.com were trying to interview Joseph Altuzarra, attending the Balenciaga show designed by his friend Alexander Wang, but were constantly interrupted by well-wishers. Most said something along the lines of “I didn’t expect to see you here!”
My daughter reckons March is called as such because “you spend the whole month marching” and when it comes to the allotment I think she’s right: after the steady pace of winter, suddenly spring is upon us and it gets really busy. Once soil temperatures rise to the magic 7 degrees C you can sow [...]
So Zac Posen – largely known as purveyor of expansive, expensive ballgowns – is reputed to be helming Harvey Weinstein’s revival of the Charles James label – largely known for its expansive, expensive ball gowns. The perfect fit, right? Well, certainly a close fit. There’s a synchronicity between Posen’s output and that of James that has frequently been highlighted. He was the obvious choice to discuss the designer around the Metropolitan Museum show “Beyond Fashion.” He did so at the Met itself, with exhibition co-curator Jan Glier Reeder, as well as in an avalanche of articles (including one for me). He’s also the obvious choice to revive the label. Doesn’t mean he’s the best choice, though.
It isn’t Mothering Sunday until May in Italy – at least, not officially. But Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana care naught for that kind of stuff. The Sunday of every Milanese womenswear week is traditionally Dolce day, but this time they made it mother’s day, too. “Viva La Mamma” they called their show – in English, it translates oddly to “Hurray for Mum” – less Italian romance, more the post-war jolly hockey sticks Enid Blyton school of British children’s literature.
Peter Dundas ended his tenure at the house of Emilio Pucci pretty much exactly how he started it. We were in the Palazzo Serbelloni, the gilded Milanese mansion-house we biannually cram into, cheek to jowl, to watch Dundas’s prints, and furs, and beaded dresses. He even had a few of the models from back in 2009, Lily Donaldson, Iris Strubegger, some others. The clothes weren’t tremendously different either. Dundas established his signature at Pucci early on, and ran with it.
Why do people have allotments? Is it the joy of growing food? The escape from the daily grind? The urge to create something beautiful out of nature? Or – and in my experience this is usually in most cases – all three? And what about the competitive streak of many plot-holders? My competitive urges come [...]
How do you define the here-and-now? Well, it’s tricky. In fact, as the Milanese collections unfold, it’s increasingly proving impossible. The contemporary is the untimely, said Roland Barthes – the fact he said it on a Gucci press release was quite something. What Barthes means is that the present is impossible to pin down – as soon as you say it, it’s passed.
If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, philosophers frequently question if it makes a sound. I pose you this: if we watch a fashion show, but it’s in the dark, did we really see it at all? Would be nice if such a question remained philosophical – but Thomas Tait decided to materialise it as an illogical staging concept for his autumn/winter 2015 show on Monday afternoon.
To avoid the publicity disaster of clashing with the 87th annual Academy Awards ceremony on Monday – at least, when it comes to the all-important column inch – the savvy designer Tom Ford (who, please remember, was once up for an Oscar himself) shifted his show to Los Angeles. He’d already decided to do it last October; he told me he was going to pack his front row with celebrities and have a red carpet laid out front.
Tom Ford is a man of his word, and of bloody-minded conviction. At about three this morning, GMT, he did just that.
I couldn’t watch the autumn/winter 2015 Marc Jacobs show – theoretically, I was on an early flight back to London to attend the memorial of Professor Louise Wilson. In actual fact, I wound up sat in the airport watching it unfold on a computer screen, departure delayed.
It was a great show. The kind you regret not seeing.
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