A fashion film by Karl Lagerfeld featuring Pharrell Williams, Cara Delevingne and Geraldine Chaplin.
A fashion film by Karl Lagerfeld featuring Pharrell Williams, Cara Delevingne and Geraldine Chaplin.
Sportswear is having a big moment in fashion. Whether it’s Chanel’s Boxerinas or the launch of Net-a-Sporter it seems that comfort and functionality are the new LBD. This has made almost any and every fashion house incorporate a luxury backpack into their accessory repertoire, since women want a practical bag that is elegant at the same time. Here are a few of our favorite luxury backpacks, we wouldn’t be surprised if you decide to trade your trapeze for a comfier model.
Dior Homme’s new fashion film featuring
Edward Cullen Robert Pattinson.
Original article via NYmag/The Cut.
People are always asking Marc Jacobs what he’ll think when he’s 80. Will he regret the SpongeBob SquarePants on his right arm if it wrinkles or droops? Or will he feel sorry about the line drawing on his stomach of a sofa by Jean-Michel Frank, or the sketch of a laughing Elizabeth Taylor wearing 3-D glasses, or any of the words, like oui, lui (both name-checking seventies adult magazines),shameless, or bros before hos (he was going through a breakup)? And if he ever abandons his strict regimen of juices and the gym, would he feel differently about that famous scene from Poltergeistsliding down his back?
His answer is: Who knows what he’ll think about all of this 30 years from now? But even more than that: Who cares?
Jacobs will leave a creative legacy with his fashion, with clothes that weave through decades and inspirations and proportions and shapes. And in much the same way, his tattoos are a diary of his creative life—of his interests and his relationship to the world, specifically to the pop-culture portion of it. He’s not worried if, at 80, he’s less specific about the relative place in his life of bros or hos, or if he’s still shameless or not. The tattoos just are what they are: another piece of fashion, the world that has thus far defined a great deal of his life. His tattoos might as well be another collection, like the time he was inspired by Debbie Harry, or the time he couldn’t stop thinking about mods.
As in most things, Marc Jacobs is far from alone in matters of aesthetics and taste. He is, rather, right out front: In what is perhaps the greatest fashion shift of a generation, tattoos are now as desired and admired as a Céline bag, a Prada shoe, or one of those long mountain-man beards. They are not subversive; they are not transgressive; they are not a mark of outsiderness. They are not for thugs or sluts, for the angry or the dispossessed. What were once the province of sailors or bikers, and then the pastime of rockers and punks, are now all over bank tellers and advertising executives and stay-at-home moms. Will my daughters want tattoos one day? Probably not: Their parents have them. Odds are, their teachers do too.
Tattoos are in places they never used to be, and we’re not just talking about places on the body. The current Valentino ads, for example, feature not a model but a big, hairy tattooed arm (the arm belongs to photographer Terry Richardson) clutching expensive shoes and bags (for women). Valentino clothing is both glamorous and modest. Recently they’ve done lovely things with handmade Italian lace.
Out on the runways, it seems as if all the models have tattoos—in that context they announce the model’s personhood, a fact that can be easy to forget when their purpose is to embody a designer’s vision, when they all are asked to not-smile the same way or wear the same makeup or wig. Freja Beha, for example, has sixteen—it says float on her neck, the world tonight is mine on her wrist, and Serendipity is life on the bottom of her arm. Beha dated a model named Catherine McNeil for a while—she has the day that I die will be by far the most beautiful day I ever lived written on her rib cage. The birds tattooed on Kate Moss’s back were drawn for her by Lucian Freud, and the shooting star on Gisele Bündchen’s wrist is a tribute to a beloved grandmother. There is something especially wonderful about seeing a tattoo on a model on a runway—I’m here, it says. I’m different. I have a grandmother, a favorite poem, an opinion.
Perhaps the culture’s shift toward tattoos is of a piece with our need to constantly reveal ourselves, to live in a continual flow of art-directed personal information—Instagrammed photos of the eggs we ate for breakfast, the walk we took after lunch, the vacation we spent at the beach. With tattoos we speak to one another with messages that are supposedly for ourselves (Just Breathe reads the tattoo below Miley Cyrus’s left breast) but also announce to the world what we’re telling ourselves. Miley, are you breathing? This sort of half-reveal works especially well for celebrities. Their tattoos get them even more public attention, while hinting at an unspoken inner life. There are two little birds and a star on Reese Witherspoon’s hip. Rihanna has a handgun on her rib cage. Why does Mena Suvari have 13 on her chest? There’s something intimate about asking after the significance of a tattoo even when it’s right there in the open. Scarlett Johansson often says in interviews that the meaning behind the big, full-color sunset on her forearm is “private.”
The tattoos people get vary regionally, culturally, across lines of gender, race, and class. Full, and often ironic, sleeves are the thing in Williamsburg or Venice Beach, whereas something life-affirming or inspirational is more popular in other parts of L.A. Whatever the case, they’re increasingly not bleeding hearts or anchors chosen off the wall: They are specific and personal and—as much as they can be—unique, chosen to say something special about the bearer. They are a gift to oneself, and also to one’s audience: whether movie fans or merely spectators on a hot subway platform or crowded sidewalk.
Marc Jacobs gets his tattoos from Scott Campbell at Saved, in Williamsburg. Campbell has had the parlor since 2004, and it’s become ground zero for the new culture of tattoos. There are ten artists in residence, each with his own thing going on. There’s Campbell, whose thing can be fairly gothic but also simple (picture Jacobs’s sofa, for example), and there’s Stephanie Tamez, who’s an ace at color. Campbell and Jacobs met seven years ago: Jacobs’s fit model was a Saved client, and she gave him the gift of his first tattoo, a line drawing of his dogs. They’ve done a lot since then: a rainbow doughnut, a lot of South Park, a little Simpsons, that sofa, the bros before hos (Campbell has a matching one, though he amended his before his wedding in June).
Lately Campbell’s clients have been bringing in their parents, lots of ladies in their sixties who suddenly think it’s okay. These are the appointments he loves most. It calls to mind people asking Jacobs how he’ll feel when he’s old, and it makes Campbell think about his own mother, who died when he was 16. “She used to say, ‘Scotty, you could commit murder, and I would still be proud to call you my son,’ ” he says, “ ‘but get a tattoo, and I’ll shoot you myself.’ ”
He is certain that if she were alive today, she’d feel differently.
*This article originally appeared in the August 19, 2013 issue of New York Magazine.
Another Fashion Week has come and gone. Wipe the lipstick off the champagne glasses, fold up the chairs, catch up on the prettiest Instagram feeds, and read yet another story about howfashion bloggers took over the front row. The same story has been recycled since 2009 when Gawker declared ‘I hereby declare the fashion bloggers’ ‘front row’ trend piece over.’ Clearly, the media world did not heed Gawker’s call.
There is a story here. Fashion is an influence-driven industry where the opinions of a handful of connected writers and designers in New York, Paris and Milan drive billions of dollars in product. It used to be that those writers resided exclusively at the headquarters of magazines like Vogue, W and Elle.
As we all know from reading regular stories about the new power center emerging online, things have changed. Digital denizens are gaining access, collaborating on designs and influencing purchase decisions in a meaningful way. They’ve brought welcome new perspectives into what was once a cloistered industry.
But, things haven’t changed that much and the rise of a very select few online-only creators hasn’t replaced the traditional influencers. Anna Wintour, Caroline Roitfeld and Robbie Myers are still front and center. The ones sitting next to them is what’s new. The arrival of these newcomers has created new stakeholders that brands must cater to in order to reach their targeted audiences consuming fashion news on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and blogs.
To reach those audiences, brands should be careful not to lump all fashion bloggers together. In the past five years, fashion blogging has split between the front row and the peanut gallery.
The ones actually sitting front row represent less than 0.1 percent of fashion bloggers.This is rarified air. They might be represented by Next Management, which was primarily a modeling agency until it started taking on bloggers such as Andy Torrest of StyleScrapbook, Rumi Neel of FashionToast and Chiara Ferragni of The Blonde Salad. They might be part ofNowManifest, the Conde Nast-owned blog and ad platform for creators such as Elin Kling and Neel. They might be the upper crust of a larger grouping of bloggers represented by Say Media, which reps Tavi Gevinson of Rookie, or DBA, which reps Jamie Beck of Ann Street Studio.
For most of these top fashion bloggers, their blogs have become an afterthought. It’s how they started but is now just a means to the invitations, junkets, free swag, product collaborations, speaking gigs, book contracts, paid social and content placements, television shows, and front row seats, of course. With a few notable exceptions such as Emily Weiss’ Into The Gloss, Tavi’s Rookie or Erin Kleinberg and Stephanie Mark’s The Coveteur, this top-tier creator class is not trying to build the next great digital publication. Instead, they’re using their sizable social channels as a more powerful distribution method than their site-based one and accepting the creative constraints inherent in social channels in exchange for the lower overhead.
In truth, 99.9 percent of fashion bloggers get nowhere near the front row. The closest this group gets to the celebrities and big magazine editors is what they see Man Repeller post to Instagram each September. These bloggers – which comprise the longtail – are passionate, authentic writers and photographers who love clothes, accessories and shoes. They have small but rabid followings. On their own, they don’t move the needle for a brand. But, taken together, they can be a potent complement to a campaign seeking a social component or niche targeting. To address this need, platforms such as Fohr Card have emerged to aggregate and organize fashion bloggers and then connect them to brands.
A few will graduate to the front row in the coming years. A small handful may launch sustainable digital publications. Most bloggers, however, will write for a few more years before moving on to something else. But, don’t fear. Another passionate and literate fashionista will emerge to take their spot. You see, in the world of high-fashion, everything eventually comes back into style.
Original article retrieved from Saymedia.com
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Article via Fashionista.com
It seems like just yesterday that fashion’s finest took to the Met steps in their best punk impressions. But the Costume Institute isn’t wasting any time. It’s already at work on next year’s exhibit–and this one should be much easier for the A-list to dress for.
According to WWD, the Costume Institute’s next show will be titled Charles James: Beyond Fashion, and will explore the life and work of America’s best-known couturier.
“He really is a one-of-a-kind designer,” explained Costume Institute curator Harold Koda. “Even if you look through the history of French haute couture and all the English couture designers, James stands out as a very idiosyncratic personality and artist and one of the few designers who, in his own lifetime, felt that his work transcended the medium.”
Besides the new theme, this year’s exhibit will also unveil the Costume Institute’s newly renovated show spaces–particularly the new Lizzie and Jonathan Tisch Gallery–which sounds like it’ll make make visiting the space a whole lot more enjoyable.
“Since the early 1990s, it’s the first time we will be able to have an open space that is also wired for the latest technology,” Koda explained. “People were always somewhat hesitant about coming down the stairs and seeing our galleries because they can get so congested with two cul-de-sacs. Now we will be able to direct the circulation in a way that underscores the narrative structure of the exhibitions.” Does this mean no more hour-long lines and craning our necks to get a glimpse of the exhibit? Amen!
The show, which will run from May 8 to August 10, will make good use of the new spaces.
“There will be the new gallery space, which will focus on describing James’s professional and personal biography, a timeline of his career, and how he developed as an artist through to the final years at the Chelsea Hotel, where he had these remarkable collaborations with others and really was serving as a mentor to people,” Koda said. “Upstairs, in the temporary gallery spaces, we are going to have a presentation of what is probably more familiar to people–knock-your-socks-off, glamorous clothes, but presented in a way that makes you understand what separated him from other designers.”
In total, there’ll be 100 pieces by James on display at the exhibit, including “iconic ball gowns from the late Forties and early Fifties such as the Four Leaf Clover, the Butterfly, Tree, Swan and Diamond designs,” as well as something he dubbed the Taxi dress.
“He had this funny idea that a woman who wanted to dress and undress in a taxi could spiral out of this dress, and put on another dress,” Koda said. [Ed note: That would actually really come in handy during NYFW.]
The exhibit is being underwritten by Aerin, the brand by Aerin Lauder, with additional support from Condé Nast, and co-chaired by Oscar de la Renta, Sarah Jessica Parker, Lizzie and Jonathan Tisch, Anna Wintour… and Bradley Cooper. Go figure.
The sequel to the mother of all fashion films, Dior Secret Garden (part II.)
I never knew that getting dressed rather than undressed could be so sexy.
James Franco stars in the new Gucci commercial: “Made to measure”