Holyshit YES. Tarot on the beach vibes, blissed-out reverb, lots of black. Listen/look.
10 June 2015
27 March 2015
For a while, for me, the abstract notion of a female was OK. It was better than nothing. But now I find I crave a solid being. To converse with, to see myself within, as a woman. Not male, not an abstraction of masculinity, not, at best, a transcendence of gender. Someone who saw and spoke and could touch.
Self with Godard filterAgnes Varda, Cleo from 5-7
Godard, Une Femme is Une Femme
(I've been thinking a lot lately about the nature of pop-culture patriarchy, how and where female pleasure comes into things - this is from a longer piece I'm working on right now.)
06 March 2015
Don't you hate your shoes? And tight gripping shit on your ankles? And clean hems? If you answered yes to any of these things, have I got some information for you. FASHION INFORMATION. They're called flares and your mum and dad probably wore them, and if you were a teenager in the 90s you probably did too. Erase those memories. (Unless your dad was George Harrison). And replace with these newer, better flared pant times to come.
All Emmanuelle, all the time
Refer to the above caption. I SAID ALL THE TIME
Shoe hatred: the solution.
...unless you kinda like your shoes, then pull this manoeuvre. CASUAL.
These aren't so much flares as wide leg pants but who are you, fashion Stalin? Cool off.
I said COOL OFF.
Colour is a thing they make clothes in now, apparently.
Is this your dad? Or mum? You get a free pass. Good day sir.
(Side note: street style poses are incredibly boring, oui? Phone clutched to face, striding off somewhere important. Tres puke. But let's think of the greater good and try to ignore said posery.)
19 February 2015
Unsolved mystery: just what is it about an oversized, chunky knit sweater that has fashion people obsessed? It is sixty-million degrees where I am right now – on a beach in Australia – yet the close up of those sweaters from The Row’s Fall 2015 presentation has me, like fashion people everywhere, wanting one on my body right now.
Let’s break this down:
Oversized, chunky, turtleneck (good)
Super soft cashmere (getting better)
Sleeves so long your hands both are invisible and obsolete (even better)
So long it’s almost – but not quite – a dress (bingo!).
People, we have ourselves one of the most instagrammed looks in the collection.
The magic powers of superfine purism that attract the fashion fanatic have always been the bread and butter of the Olsens at The Row – succinct but confident cuts, premium fabrication, refined palette – but for Fall ’15 there’s a shift towards an even paler shade of white. Cuts are refined to the point of austerity, the businesslike b+w is infused with flashes of oatmeal, butterscotch and seventies-era brown, fabrications are luxurious silk, coverted cashmere buttery leather. These are kinds of words that make for flutter-hearting fashion people.
The fugly summer slide reincarnates here as a simple Moroccan slipper (worn with sheer tights), spring’s 70s redux is done The Row way in early-autumn shades… tan and brown worn back with not-quite white… the leather, too, is distinctly 70s in chocolate, both crisp and warm at once with curved lapels and a belted robe cut. Felts are so boxy you could send packages in them; bags are oversized and hugged to the body; belts are double-wrapped obis. Of course there’s plenty of signature slouch by way of wide legs and cocoons, oh and geez – that blond-white silk maxi dress.
It’s no new news –off-the grid minimalism is hardly new, especially at the Row – but the mysteries of puritanism beguile here in a subtle shift of energy. The shift is in the detail, the suede slip-ons and robes that just could, feasibly, be worn at a day spa – the most luxuriant day spa imaginable which you probably can’t afford, naturally – and the quiet sensuality of slip-me-off silks.
Slanting light, modernist interiors, pant suits… It could be a more Manhatten-y mind state at work– there’s something suggestive the kind of NYC woman who shimmers out of cars hugging a leather bag and an iPhone 6+, bedroom-y and boardroom-y all at once.
There’s a compelling contradiction at play: hot/cold, puritanical cuts and sensuality in the detail. It’s a compelling contradiction, seductively quiet rather than overt. Ingénue she is not: a cool New Yorker, all polish, confidence and refinement – long live minimalism – yeah, she’s a purist, but with sensual details and depth. The effect is both gamine and gutsy: the soft power of the boss lady.
Check out the whole show at Style.com. Photos from same source.
16 February 2015
The new Friggen Awesome standard. A few things I like and use much of, now that I am officially a beach drop out.
1/ ridiculous sunset, iphone photo 2/Lover bikini 3/ Lapis pendant, Etsy or your local hippie shop 3/ Lace kimono thing and swimsuit via Lover 4/ Instax mini aka Insta-airbrush, Amazon 5/ Excellent, excellent lace slip dress, Free People from ASOS 6/ Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express, try your local second hand bookshop 7/ Lilac phone case, Chinatown cheapie 8/ Clear quartz point, here or see 3 9/ Sunset gradient bag, I got ages ago at & Other Stories 10/ Hammock, try the hammock district
11 February 2015
Hey look! It's another flawless brunette Frenchie with liquid liner skills and a truly excellent fringe situation and sick style. Oh and Alma is also the grand daughter of Alejandro Jodorowsky, no less. Am I predictable? Very well then I am predictable. But when France stops producing style crushes I will stop crushing.
06 February 2015
What’s the best thing about the internet? Trick question, it’s everything. But mostly, being able to tap in a few words, "Rick Griffin" say; and then receiving in an instant, pages of results of the Californian artist's work, with comix, handbills, posters, album covers, as well as studio and life shots, featuring his influential '60s psych style, with that instantly recognisable hand-drawn lettering, strobing colours, and surf vibes aplenty. What an age.
23 December 2014
Turns out I hadn't read every single last one of the Penguin Classics from the much-mined bookstore at Sydney airport. The Witches of Eastwick had somehow been missed - no idea why. Feminist, magical, and with the kind of prose that reminds you why you love writing, Updike totally killed it with this one, and I loved every second. So, naturally, the movie. It was very unlike the book, and sort of crap, but can we just take a moment to reflect up the excellence of the circa '87 fashions? Yes? Yes. Very well then:
Excellent font. Also foliage. #fontandfoliage
Exhibit A: cross-back blue and white stripe midi skirt pinafore. Genius.
Seersucker, pastels and clear '80s geek glasses? Pfieffer you pferfect specimen.
Uptight, pre-demon Sarandon looks pretty god damn excellent. Those school-unfiform greys and crisp white layers could be very Lover-esque inspo, no?
Tied crop eighties excellence, with navy midi-culottes, kick-ass bike and gypsy jewels? Add Cher's general charisma and you've got a pretty covetable combo.
That lightly-striped summer dress! (It has a button-through back just FYI). That tres-Birkin basket weave bag. That jawbone!
Ok so post-demon, let-loose Sarandon kicks major ass too. I tip my hat to that hair, and those mirror shades, lady.
Butterfly clips on a grown woman. Cher only situation.
Overalls because all the YES
Does Sarandon's outfit deserve a third screen cap? You bet your sage smudge stick she does.
Speaking of her outfits all get pretty excellent from here on in....
Though the less said about this the better.
From here on in it suddenly gets really puffy for some reason. I respect that this is 1987 after all. Those oversize pearls though.
I love every single thing about Pfieffer's print co-ord with potpie hat look here. Ideal.
Sarandon goes gym witch/ Cher does high waist pants/ Pfieffer dressed as Jerry Seinfeld.
Silky robes and sorcery!