It seems my focus is changing. At one point I was a fiend, an all-consuming glutton when it came to viewing the collections. I was like an addict, but things are different now.
I was texting a friend last night(the goddess who mans BreathingFashion if you must know), flipping through my copy of Champagne Casanovas when I realized that I hadn't been paying attention to the ongoing circus we call fashion month since it had moved on from New York.
Instead I find myself watching the arrivals and front row, excited more about the all black(red stitching of course) pantsuit that the celebrities have chosen to don, paired with their small hard cased petit malles, as opposed to what is headed into stores in 6 months.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Thursday, September 18, 2014
This month marks a full year of freelance life, one year and four months of living in New York city, and my third New York Fashion Week attending the shows in person. The first season, I bombarded my Instagram with multiple updates at each show(the final tally of shows hit the upper 30s). My second season, the show list got tightened to about half and I capped myself at one Instagram per show, focusing on hopefully proving myself with my words. And then there was this season: around 45 shows with 40 total reviews, seven of which involved some back stage designer interview access and a measly six shots for Instagram(only 3 were runway looks). I was comfortable enough to strike up quite a few conversations with other show guests but of course still in awe of the onion that is this industry. And while I do think that I've still got quite a bit to learn -- namely in trusting my gut instinct when I see a show -- it's been quite an amazing ride so far.
Monday, August 25, 2014
The VMAs is a bit of an enigma. Celebrities aren't required to be as dressed up as maybe they would be at the Emmy's or the Oscars, but at the same time, this isn't the Teen Choice Awards. The result is a sort of melange of looks, likely tied closest to the wearer's personality and personal style than any other red carpet.
What that looks like in real time means some of the attention seekers of the bunch turning up in necklace dresses, evoking thoughts of Rose McGowan and Rihanna while others are a real life throwback Thursday to Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake, living their denim clad life. It's an eclectic grouping but as with every award show, someone always rises to the top.
Last night, for the boys that was Monsieur Nick Jonas in a Vivienne Westwood blazer and built-in waistcoat, both in a midnight and black striped plaid, matched with sleek black skinnies and shiny leather lace ups.
Pushing away from the casual nature of his contemporaries, this indeed was the yes of the night, heat be what it might.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
It was a monologue that still gives me absolute chills. Not only because of the ferocity and intensity of it -- which no doubt helped Joe Morton cinch the Best Guest Actor in a Drama Series title at the 2014 Creative Arts Emmys -- but because of its veracity and relatability.
As we watched Rowan/Eli Pope chide his daughter on the season 3 opener of ABC's Scandal, my timeline went up in arms. Not because he had stepped over a line, not because what he did seemed like abuse, but instead because of how many times we'd been told the exact same things, and how many times we'd come to find them as true. "You have to be twice as good to get half of what they have." That was the gospel. And that's what Eli Pope was.
He outwitted each and every individual on the weekly series: his wife, a world renowned killer whom he had imprisoned; his daughter, a world renowned "fixer" who he had sent out of the country; and his daughter's problematic beau, the president of the United States, whom he had crippled with the assassination of his oldest son.
Twice as good, half as far. You deserved it Mr. Pope.
Congratulations to Joe Morton. Can't wait to see you reprise the role in season 4.
photo from WENN
Thursday, July 31, 2014
|Traveling can be downright exhausting. And it's a facetious sort of exhaustion you know, one where you might not even know that you're tired until you realize for a week that all you've done is lay in bed with extra large bags of peanut butter M&Ms watching old episodes of Scandal and any Law & Order you can track down on Netflix. Oh, just me? Whoops.|
Heading down to the capital of South America was fairly effortless in theory. Fly down, take in the shows, retreat to my friend's apartment at night in lieu of the parties. And the shows were decent for the most part. With the Minimale Animale presentation(below) as an unexpected standout with an aesthetic that seemed at odds with the rest of the week, things ended on a leather clad high note.
But as a lover of walking, I found myself both mentally and physically exhausted each night, the former from trying to hold show notes in my head(swimwear couldn't be that hard, could it?) and the latter from walking about a mile or so toward the causeway which effectively cut my taxi fare in half.
|That's how I came upon the Conservatory Garden actually; walking. Wearing in my four-year-old white Adidas on one of my now daily walks(back here in NYC, not in MIA) I found myself stumbling through Central Park, avoiding wandering geese and touristy photo ops in search of nothing but a bit of thinking space. And here it was tucked away as a small round garden, mini-Versaille like greenscape and fountain included.|
I wouldn't find the adjoining lawn, larger 12-foot high jet fountain and tree-covered walkway until days later when I finally entered through the proper Fifth Avenue entrance of Vanderbilt Gate, but I didn't really need to. On this day, half a week back from the scorching, pounding heat of South Beach, no where nearer to the mountain of looming deadlines, I found the eye of my storm sitting on a bench in New York's piece of Versailles, watching bronze girls frolic around in a supposed game of Ring Around The Rosie.
statue Three Dancing Maidens by Walter Schott
Minimale Animale finale at MBFW Swim 2015
Sunday, June 15, 2014
First impressions are can be tough, and when I saw you I knew it
I'm not your typical fashion kid. Prime example: when I moved to New York I probably went a month or two before ever stepping into a clothing store and when I did, it was H&M for some thin tees, necessary for summer.
You're not going to find me browsing at the Prada boutique, thumbing through racks at Saint Laurent or silently appraising the displays inside of Bergdorf's. When I step into a store, it's for a very specific and determined purpose and sadly "fashion for fashion's sake" or for that experience is rarely it.
Yet when I saw this My PS Crew tagged sweatshirt by Public School and J. Crew, first online and then again at the J. Crew X CFDA VIP reception for their new capsule collaborations, my money was spent before I had a chance to think about it.
opening quote from Hairspray
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Though his name was announced, she had already won.
Canada-born, London-based Thomas Tait, he of the clean lines, was today tapped as the inaugural LVMH Prize winner. 300,000 euros and a year of assistance from the company operating some of the largest fashion companies in the world was his.
But she, ultimately she won.
In the span of 7 months, Delphine Arnault has gone from the relative shadows -- lurking behind designer moves like putting Raf Simons in at Dior, transitioning Nicolas Ghesquiere to Louis Vuitton, acquiring a majority stake in Nicholas Kirkwood and then a minor one in JW Anderson(who was simultaneously tapped to head Loewe) -- to publicly helming a program with international reach and interest.
In the game of "who's on next" to succeed Bernard Arnault, I'd have to say that daughter Delphine looks to be heads and shoulders above her brother Antoine.