David Longshaw
For Spring Summer 2011, viagra 60mg David Longshaw says he was inspired by ‘chav dogs, cialis 40mg feathers and a ruffle or two and a story I wrote’. The tale apparently describes the outcome when some hoodies break into a stately home and end up dressing up in period clothing. I am waiting with baited breath to see the results! Don’t miss David’s upcoming round up of LFW exclusively for Amelia’s Magazine.
Eudon Choi
A/W 2010, photographed by Matt Bramford
Eudon Choi has been much talked-about over the six months that have passed since the last London Fashion Week. As well as being awarded Vauxhall Fashion Scout’s Merit Award, he was named as a winner of the BFC Elle Talent Launch Pad. His Merit Award collection has been greatly anticipated; expect industrial references, masculine tailoring and military embellishments, cutting an edgy yet sophisticated silhouette.
Bernard Chandran
A/W 2010, photographed by Matt Bramford
Malaysia’s Prince of Fashion, Bernard Chandran, continued to impress with his powerful, glimmering AW2010 collection. Glamour prevailed; power shoulders were paired with luxe beading, sequins, feathers and exposed backs, providing the ultimate in wearable opulence. Look out for Lady Gaga and Florence Welch queuing up for his fresh flamboyance.
Eley Kishimoto
A/W 2010, photographed by Matt Bramford
Eley Kishimoto never fail to impress with their unmistakable graphic prints. Expect another eclectic mix for SS11, with inspiration cited as “imitation, 3D on 2D and clothes drying on a rack”. After a notably scaled-down, pop-up shop presence last Fashion Week, it will be interesting to see what they show this time at Shoreditch Studios.
Ziad Ghanem
Ziad Ghanem couture, illustrated by Joana Faria
When Matt Bramford recently interviewed coutourier Ziad Ghanem for Amelia’s Magazine, he revealed that he has been making a film for his new collection. After February’s show-stopping runway performance from Immodesty Blaize, the oncreen unveiling of his latest collection is eagerly anticipated.
Bora Aksu in his studio. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
I’ve championed Bora Aksu since the very first issue of Amelia’s Magazine in print way back in 2004. The four times New Gen winner has come a long way since then…. As we head inexorably into the next manic edition of London Fashion Week the time has come to run an interview I did with the lovely Bora Aksu some months back, sales when he was kind enough to welcome me into his high ceilinged studio in West Ferry Studios, mind east London.
Bora’s wonderful Autumn/Winter 2010 collection combined layers and flounces with corsetry and alienesque details. It was all about structure, approved layers and textures working together, but was it just me that saw the alien thing?
I suppose I was thinking about aliens when I designed the collection, but it was so subconscious that I didn’t even say anything to the team. I kept picturing things emerging from the body in a super natural way: other people have picked up on it since, but many have been more focused on the corsetry and 3D shapes. I love the way corsets create flattering shapes that compliment the body and I like muted colours because then they create more of a blank canvas so I can concentrate on line and texture. I suppose I like the colours in shadows, the in between colours that you can’t describe instantly – and then sometimes I like a splash of brighter colour. Luckily this all fits into the current trend for nudes. although I don’t deliberately follow trends. I like to think of it as mixing the sugary and the spiky, sort of Marie Antoinette meets Edward Scissorhands!
How did you learn to work in this way?
You need to do the A-Z of design first so you know the whole process of pattern cutting and how to use fabrics, but being a good designer involves more than just technical training. The way you execute an idea is the most important part and this can’t be resolved with just paper and pencil – it needs a hands on approach. For example I like to do a lot of draping. In Turkey they have all the equipment but that’s not enough. The experimental mindset is lacking. I came to London 15 years ago to study, and even though I had no money I was surrounded by inspiration. You need to be able to make something beautiful out of nothing. That’s why in Turkey there is still the concept that to be successful you need to have designed abroad.
Accessories hang in neat rows in Bora’s studio.
But isn’t it all changing in Turkey? There seems to be a bit of a buzz.
Turkey has a great cultural heritage and a strong factory supply base, but there was no fashion education to speak of when I came to study in the UK. However in the past ten years lots of universities have sprung up as fashion has become more popular as a career. Did you know there are now over 115 fashion weeks across the world? I love Istanbul but I don’t get back as often as I would like: I try to go for one month at a time between the February and September shows and I’ve done two seasons of Istanbul fashion week (including this year) but it’s not always possible to get away.
What do your parents feel about your career in fashion?
Turkey is very family orientated and traditional: both my parents are doctors so I grew up breathing medical science. They were worried I wouldn’t be successful as an artist so my first degree was actually in business administration although I always knew I wanted to do ‘art and crafts’. Luckily I got accepted onto my second degree with only a sketch book to my name, but my marketing background bubbles up to the surface sometimes! But to give my parents full credit they were happy for me to follow my dream and stand by me which is an amazing feeling – to have not just their approval but their support. I have always been supported on my journey and my mother came to my first shows although she doesn’t like flying so she hasn’t been recently.
A mood board features one of Bora’s illustrations.
You famously attended the prestigious Central Saint Martins MA course. How did this shape you?
I spent a year working for Ghost because I didn’t want to go straight onto an MA, and I was massively influenced by their approach. Luckily it was a paid internship, which is rare to find now. It prepared me for the MA at Central Saint Martins, where it’s more like working for a company with strict deadlines. It is the Central Saint Martins ethos to breed creative beings whilst other colleges just think “let’s get our students a job in design” so most of time you are left to create designs on your own in a very free spirited way, which is a good platform to start from. You then have to present everything as a whole package in the best possible way so the students are really pushed and inevitably some people drop out because they can’t cope. My MA taught me that there are no rules in fashion and really gave me a chance to find my style.
How did being in London influence your work?
In London so many different cultures are mixed together but somehow everything works in harmony, so you can be very free in your creativity. You see that especially in fashion: out of 10 students on my MA there were 7 different nationalities and I constantly meet people from other places: my wife Fella is from Mauritius. [she chatters away in Creole with his right hand man, who is also from Mauritius]. The Class of 2002 was pretty special: I graduated from my MA with Jens Laugesson, Jonathan Saunders, Miki Fugai and Richard Nichol.
More stuff hanging up.
That’s pretty amazing! Are you in any way competitive with each other, or are you all good friends?
We’re not competitive because we’re all just busy doing our own thing and we all design so differently. People think of the coldness and isolation created by the fashion PR world, but it’s not like that on the creative side at all. There may only be a small market for consultancy but everyone has a place and we really help each other, for example we tell each other about good manufacturers to use and so on. I’ve also recently become friends with Mark Fast, who used to work on knitwear with me.
Where does all this stuff in your studio come from?
I used to go to every single car boot fair in London, buying up old bags, army boots, old account books, handkerchiefs, laces, leather embossed bags… and I started to put things around me that I liked whilst designing a collection. I don’t think about whether the styles clash, I just go on my personal taste. I hang stuff up and take photos of it together whilst thinking about what to design.
Mannequins around the studio sport collections of random objects.
What happens next?
I undo old garments so I can see the binding and hand finishing inside, which is often more beautiful than the outside. I’ve got boxes and boxes of stuff behind these walls – I try to get rid of stuff but I get emotionally attached to things and even if I only look at it once a year it’s comforting to know that it’s there. My mum is a collector so now she has an excuse to buy stuff too, because I might want it.
How are you various collaborations going?
I’m still doing stuff with People Tree and will continue to do so, and I’m going to design a capsule collection for Anthropologie. It’s frustrating because the ethical thing should be more substantial and ongoing than it is. The western world has such a huge influence and every high street store should be more ethical; one t-shirt produced in Bangladesh has a huge knock on effect for whole families. But it’s no good producing undesirable garments because most teenagers don’t care where a garment is from, they just want fashionable clothing like celebrities wear. People Tree’s Safia Minney has a really good sense of what the customer wants, and we must concentrate on design.
Bora Aksu’s People Tree collaboration by Zarina Liew.
How do you try to be ethical in the production of your own collections?
I source cotton from Turkey but I try to produce most of my clothes locally in the UK. Time is the main factor in producing ethical clothing – it takes much longer to design because of the limitations so you need to plan in advance. I also try to look for companies that are disappearing because there is no demand for their products. I’ve just been to the EcoChic show in Geneva where I found an ethical fish leather available in any colour, produced by some Brasilian fishermen. I use recycled latex. I’m not against leather but I don’t think its necessary to use fur – it may be nice to the touch but it’s not attractive and technology is so advanced we can surely make something else that’s similar.
Close ups of the wonderful fabrics used in the A/W 2010 collection.
How do you find London Fashion Week these days?
I’m not sure the high turnover of new designers is such a good thing – it doesn’t happen in Paris or Milan. But then we don’t have big fashion houses and we’re known as a new talent hub. Maybe we need to emphasise that more, but all new designers also need to stand on their own two feet so they get a good buyer base: so many designers aren’t ready to deal with the whole business side of fashion.
What about working with Blow PR? You’ve had a close relationship for a long time haven’t you?
I’ve been looked after by them for over six years now and I love working with Blow PR – it’s become more of a friendship. My last collection was well received in the press and orders have been good.
More fabulous Bora fabrics.
And to finish on a cheeky note, you and Fella obviously work together very well. How did you get together?
We were flatmates and good friends first! She’s been my studio manager for five years and we used to live in the studio here but it all got a bit much so we now live in Angel, Islington, which means we can leave work behind. My friends have started to have kids, but it looks like hard work… I like to take the laid back approach – when you plan too much it usually doesn’t work because there’s a gap between imagination and what might happen. I always believe you should follow arrows, not push at doors.
Bora Aksu illustrations on the walls of his studio.
Before I leave Bora gives me a guided tour of his studio, where I have ample opportunity to feel his clothing up and marvel at some of his wonderful illustrations that adorn any gaps in the wall. Tomorrow Bora shows his S/S 2011 collection on the first day of London Fashion Week. There’s no doubting it will be every bit as magical as the last one was: he is one very special man.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Thursday September 16th, 2010 7:05 pm
Samantha Cole A/W 2011 by Madi Samantha Cole A/W 2011 by Avril Kelly.
I am not a big fan of all black outfits so a show entirely consisting of unrelenting black is unlikely to be a winner with me. The Samantha Cole A/W 2011 collection Above and Beneath the Definitive Structure was all about black, illness black, price black. Black in differing fabrics with differing reactions to light, but nevertheless black.
A succession of models – sporting futuristic up-dos and violent black eye make-up that stretched from lash to eyebrow – slowly filtered past us in the upstairs salon of Freemasons Hall. This might not have been so noticeable had the majority of us not just come from the Bunmi Koko show, where models had been sent down the catwalk at breakneck speed. People could be seen shifting in their seats, checking their watches, unused to this sudden slow down in a season of warp speed catwalking.
The first models wore abstract linear prints etched onto squared off one-shoulder minidresses and boxy shapes that stood proud of the body. Leather crunched unforgivingly in all the wrong places and harsh catwalk lighting rendered black leather a pallid grey against the darkness of light absorbing black velvet. This had the air of clever ideas lost in translation.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
Much more successful and flattering were form-hugging knitwear and velvet fabrics that wrapped sexily around bosoms and hips, a giant head-swallowing Elizabethan ruffled neckbrace and the last outfit of the show – an intriguingly cut maxi length dress, draped skirt swinging from a high waistline shaped away from the body. She only showed one dress that featured her unique signature shape – exaggerated 3D hips.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
As our applause died down we could hear loud whooping as the models headed backstage. Three giggling ladies popped out to take a bow, followed by another lady on her own. Which one, I wondered, was the real Samantha Cole? Samantha Cole A/W 2011 by Avril Kelly.
I am not a big fan of all black outfits so a show entirely consisting of unrelenting black is unlikely to be a winner with me. The Samantha Cole A/W 2011 collection Above and Beneath the Definitive Structure was all about black, this black, buy more about black. Black in differing fabrics with differing reactions to light, look but nevertheless black.
A succession of models – sporting futuristic up-dos and violent black eye make-up that stretched from lash to eyebrow – slowly filtered past us in the upstairs salon of Freemasons Hall. This might not have been so noticeable had the majority of us not just come from the Bunmi Koko show, where models had been sent down the catwalk at breakneck speed. People could be seen shifting in their seats, checking their watches, unused to this sudden slow down in a season of warp speed catwalking.
The first models wore abstract linear prints etched onto squared off one-shoulder minidresses and boxy shapes that stood proud of the body. Leather crunched unforgivingly in all the wrong places and harsh catwalk lighting rendered black leather a pallid grey against the darkness of light absorbing black velvet. This had the air of clever ideas lost in translation.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
Much more successful and flattering were form-hugging knitwear and velvet fabrics that wrapped sexily around bosoms and hips, a giant head-swallowing Elizabethan ruffled neckbrace and the last outfit of the show – an intriguingly cut maxi length dress, draped skirt swinging from a high waistline shaped away from the body. She only showed one dress that featured her unique signature shape – exaggerated 3D hips.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
As our applause died down we could hear loud whooping as the models headed backstage. Three giggling ladies popped out to take a bow, followed by another lady on her own. Which one, I wondered, was the real Samantha Cole? Samantha Cole A/W 2011 by Avril Kelly.
I am not a big fan of all black outfits so a show entirely consisting of unrelenting black is unlikely to be a winner with me. The Samantha Cole A/W 2011 collection Above and Beneath the Definitive Structure was all about black, patient black, black. Black in differing fabrics with differing reactions to light, but nevertheless black.
A succession of models – sporting futuristic up-dos and violent black eye make-up that stretched from lash to eyebrow – slowly filtered past us in the upstairs salon of Freemasons Hall. This might not have been so noticeable had the majority of us not just come from the Bunmi Koko show, where models had been sent down the catwalk at breakneck speed. People could be seen shifting in their seats, checking their watches, unused to this sudden slow down in a season of warp speed catwalking.
The first models wore abstract linear prints etched onto squared off one-shoulder minidresses and boxy shapes that stood proud of the body. Leather crunched unforgivingly in all the wrong places and harsh catwalk lighting rendered black leather a pallid grey against the darkness of light absorbing black velvet. This had the air of clever ideas lost in translation.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
Much more successful and flattering were form-hugging knitwear and velvet fabrics that wrapped sexily around bosoms and hips, a giant head-swallowing Elizabethan ruffled neckbrace and the last outfit of the show – an intriguingly cut maxi length dress, draped skirt swinging from a high waistline shaped away from the body.
Samantha Cole A/W 2011. Photography by Amelia Gregory.
As our applause died down we could hear loud whooping as the models headed backstage. Three giggling ladies popped out to take a bow, followed by another lady on her own. Which one, I wondered, was the real Samantha Cole?
The EcoLuxe exhibition was held at the ultra chic One Aldwych Hotel, about it just across the road from Somerset House. Fresh from Esthetica, view I wondered if the designers holed up over at One Aldwych would be able to compete with the level of talent I’d witnessed over at Somerset House, discount but my questions were quickly forgotten as I descended the staircase at the hotel and saw the stalls.
Inevitably, there were a few brands and designers showcasing work that didn’t really float my boat, but I also saw some beautifully crafted clothes that really excited me. Here are just a few of my favourites.
I was excited to see that Fashion Conscience, my favourite ethical online retailer, had a stand. I got chatting to their PR rep about how to encourage more mainstream use of ethical design principals and how to close the gap between the high end ethical and the affordable everyday ethical. Fashion Conscience, in my humble opinion, are beginning to fill this gap, but there is still some way to go. The Fashion Conscience stall was showcasing the work of two of my favourite labels, ReLuxe and Fair+True:
Reluxe oozes cool. The designs are fresh, colourful, relaxed and crucially AFFORDABLE. They use recycled fabrics which means many garments are completely unique, or in limited supply due to the limitations of the fabric. I have fallen in love with this slightly bonkers neon striped skirt and am just waiting for pay day to purchase it (don’t beat me to it!) Brands like Reluxe and Fair+True (below) make me excited and hopeful that ethical businesses CAN make it in to the middle market mainstream, can be affordable and can have mass appeal. YES.
Fair+True are a brand new Fairtrade company that also make lovely, brightly coloured sporty brights that I would love to wear. All pieces are fairly made in the UK or Africa or created from sustainable and organic fabrics. LOVE.
I hadn’t heard of Lowie and I’m most disappointed by this because I loved their stuff. Their AW 2011 clothing and hand knitted accessories were brightly coloured and gorgeous. I adored their Turkish socks, ear muffs, cloche hats and cardigans. Their SS 2011 collection was also beautiful with some really interesting shapes and details.
I liked the moody colours, tailoring and detailing of HEMYCA‘s clothes. Their focus is on fine tailoring, with an emphasis on the waist, which I always love. Ethically, HEMYCA has an ‘Organic Tailoring’ range and manufactures all their garments in London, promoting local businesses and cutting down on carbon dioxide emissions.
I briefly saw Sanyukta Shrestha’s wedding accessories and dresses. However, it wasn’t until I saw models wearing the dresses online after the event that I truly appreciated their beauty. In fact I had a mouth a-gape, heart a-flutter moment when I saw this floor length, pleated dress with low cut back. It’s made from 100% organic silk and organic fair traded cotton sateen. If I could get married again (to the same man, I hasten to add!) it would be in this dress. Oh my. Head. Over. Heels.
Sanyukta Shrestha Wedding Dress illustration by Fritha Strickland
I always expected to be impressed by Esthetica and Eco Luxe, but I didn’t expect to be blown away, but I was. I left both the show rooms with my brain whirring, a bag stuffed full of promo material, a camera full of more images than I knew what to do with and having talked at a million miles an hour to so many interesting and inspiring people. Eco Luxe has doubled in size since last year in what I assume is a reflection of the increasing acceptance and awareness of ethical design. As ethical design and shopping with conscience become more mainstream, I hope that ethical clothing designers wont be sectioned off in their own separate rooms. Instead they will be showcasing alongside all the other London Fashion Week designers; proving that fashion with a conscience is not the exception, but the norm. One day indeed.
Maybe it was the sly addition of sparkly silver that did it for me? That and the polished tailoring of multilayered capes, flouncey tiered peplums and gorgeous silky oversized bow details. I loved the styling with big knuckle duster silver rings worn across delicate model hands: it was a clever ballsy accent and stopped it all being a bit too nice.
I’ve bumped into a funny old range of people at this fashion week – at Masha Ma I walked in and was immediately scooped up by Reiki, a fashion designer and girlfriend of my cousin, so we’re more used to meeting at family events. She was sitting front row with the Bodyamr designer, who she works for. Sadly I missed that show helping my parents choose two new kitties from the cat rescue centre. *Not sad about new kitties though.* Turns out that Masha Ma is a friend because she used to work for Bodyamr too, presumably after she completed her MA at the eponymous Central Saint Martins – really the only place to go it seems.
This was the first time Masha Ma had shown at London Fashion Week properly, and if this fantastic collection was anything to go by she’ll be a fixture for a long time to come. Keep an eye on this one folks, very clever indeed.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Monday September 20th, 2010 8:58 am
Maybe it was the sly addition of sparkly silver that did it for me? That and the polished tailoring of multilayered capes, flouncey tiered peplums and gorgeous silky oversized bow details. I loved the styling with big knuckle duster silver rings worn across delicate model hands: it was a clever ballsy accent and stopped it all being a bit too nice.
I’ve bumped into a funny old range of people at this fashion week – at Masha Ma I walked in and was immediately scooped up by Reiki, a fashion designer and girlfriend of my cousin, so we’re more used to meeting at family events. She was sitting front row with the Bodyamr designer, who she works for. Sadly I missed that show helping my parents choose two new kitties from the cat rescue centre. *Not sad about new kitties though.* Turns out that Masha Ma is a friend because she used to work for Bodyamr too, presumably after she completed her MA at the eponymous Central Saint Martins – really the only place to go it seems.
This was the first time Masha Ma had shown at London Fashion Week properly, and if this fantastic collection was anything to go by she’ll be a fixture for a long time to come. Keep an eye on this one folks, very clever indeed.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Monday September 20th, 2010 8:58 am
Illustration by Annejkh Carson
Partimi by Joana Faria.
I probably shouldn’t do this because I actually don’t believe the ghettoisation of ethical designers is a particularly good thing, more about but for ease of storytelling in the grand scheme of things it makes sense to cover the interesting stuff I came across at Esthetica altogether. This is by no means all the stuff I loved, purchase but I’ll be covering others in my upcoming book Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration (with an ethical bent) so for now I’ll just stick to a few that may not have been covered on this blog before….
Martina Spetlova
The Centre for Sustainable Fashion were promoting the work of Martina Spetlova, prescription another MA graduate of Central Saint Martins who has a first degree in chemistry and has set up a fair trade embroidery network between women in Pakistan and designers in the UK. She creates clothes made of interchangeable panels and her recent collection features some interesting garments sponsored by waste from the YKK zip company. She is currently building relationships with mills to use more end of line products that are well suited to the small runs of high end designers, but I do wonder what happens once all that waste has been scooped up.
I feel quite proud that her necklaces, constructed from found objects and lovingly sourced vintage items, are now finding a much wider audience. Read an interview with her here.
All photography by Amelia Gregory.
Sägen
Over in the Scandinavian corner I was most intrigued to discover the finely detailed work of Sägen, also showing at Esthetica for the first time. This is upcycling at it’s best – taking shards of old porcelain and reinvigorating them for a new life as a piece of delightful one off jewellery.
Choose from twee rose patterns or more modern classic Scandinavian leaf designs, all set in nickel free silver. One massive downside: the website does not seem to cater to the English speaking customer, so one can only hope some UK based buyers have bought into the range.
Nina Dolcetti
I tried on a pair of Nina Dolcetti bouncy platform shoes at Esthetica, and instantly fell in love… perhaps I could even ride a bike in a pair of these?? Inexplicably the head designer is not called Nina Dolcetti. Elisalex de Castro Peake is a Cordwainers graduate who launched her first upcycled shoe in September 2008 and the brand name Nina Dolcetti – meaning Little Sweets – comes from a combination of her nickname and her grandmother’s maiden name.
All shoes are made in a small factory run factory in East London from off cuts and pre-consumer waste, and she utilises only vegetable tanned leather and sustainably sourced cork and wood. So want a pair to bounce around in, but they’re a leetle bit pricey for me. Well worth it if you earn a decent wage though: I urge you to check them out.
Partimi and Joanna Cave
I love Partimi‘s clean simple designs. Designer Eleanor Dorrien-Smith named her label after the architectural term parti, meaning the conceptual starting point for a project, and she makes beautiful wearable dresses adorned with simple graphic prints.
This season she paid homage to costumes from Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes that her mother had collected at auction. I particularly loved her collaboration with ethical jewellery designer Joanna Cave, and am lusting after a pair of graphic cut out dangly earrings.
Oria
This jewellery range is the baby of creative duo Tania Kowalski and Synnove Saelthun, who have worked in the jewellery industry for a combined 25 years. Increasingly concerned wih the social and environmental impact of mining they created Oria in 2007 with an intention to make the supply chain transparent.
They source from fair-trade companies, all materials are traceable to point of origin and then the jewellery is made in their London studio. I love the delicate dangly cutout earrings featuring bees and birds.
Oria by Faye West.
Michelle Lowe-Holder
I knew Michelle Lowe-Holder as a clothing designer, but after a break from the industry she’s decided to make a come back as an accessory designer. This was prompted by the realisation that she was always most interested in the details so she decided to be more sustainable and make use of the oodles of waste fabric from old collections – that she still has lying around in her studio – to create some stunning accessories: giant arm, neck and leg pieces are stacked to create dramatic silhouettes.
Speedo From Somewhere collaboration by Alia Gargum.
Made
Having just returned from a Fashion Business Club get together with the unexpectedly lucid Laura Bailey I thought I would also mention Made, a jewellery brand “by the people for the people” that is reasonably well known thanks to some high profile branding and wide distribution. They are big on their “designer” collaborations, though not designers I’ve ever heard of: since when was Laura Bailey a jewellery designer anyway? Boy do I want her job. I’m not a massive fan of a lot of their stuff (looks wise), but they do undeniably good things by providing trade for impoverished communities in Africa.
Illustration by Annejkh Carson
Partimi by Joana Faria.
I probably shouldn’t do this because I actually don’t believe the ghettoisation of ethical designers is a particularly good thing, more about but for ease of storytelling in the grand scheme of things it makes sense to cover the interesting stuff I came across at Esthetica altogether. This is by no means all the stuff I loved, purchase but I’ll be covering others in my upcoming book Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration (with an ethical bent) so for now I’ll just stick to a few that may not have been covered on this blog before….
Martina Spetlova
The Centre for Sustainable Fashion were promoting the work of Martina Spetlova, prescription another MA graduate of Central Saint Martins who has a first degree in chemistry and has set up a fair trade embroidery network between women in Pakistan and designers in the UK. She creates clothes made of interchangeable panels and her recent collection features some interesting garments sponsored by waste from the YKK zip company. She is currently building relationships with mills to use more end of line products that are well suited to the small runs of high end designers, but I do wonder what happens once all that waste has been scooped up.
I feel quite proud that her necklaces, constructed from found objects and lovingly sourced vintage items, are now finding a much wider audience. Read an interview with her here.
All photography by Amelia Gregory.
Sägen
Over in the Scandinavian corner I was most intrigued to discover the finely detailed work of Sägen, also showing at Esthetica for the first time. This is upcycling at it’s best – taking shards of old porcelain and reinvigorating them for a new life as a piece of delightful one off jewellery.
Choose from twee rose patterns or more modern classic Scandinavian leaf designs, all set in nickel free silver. One massive downside: the website does not seem to cater to the English speaking customer, so one can only hope some UK based buyers have bought into the range.
Nina Dolcetti
I tried on a pair of Nina Dolcetti bouncy platform shoes at Esthetica, and instantly fell in love… perhaps I could even ride a bike in a pair of these?? Inexplicably the head designer is not called Nina Dolcetti. Elisalex de Castro Peake is a Cordwainers graduate who launched her first upcycled shoe in September 2008 and the brand name Nina Dolcetti – meaning Little Sweets – comes from a combination of her nickname and her grandmother’s maiden name.
All shoes are made in a small factory run factory in East London from off cuts and pre-consumer waste, and she utilises only vegetable tanned leather and sustainably sourced cork and wood. So want a pair to bounce around in, but they’re a leetle bit pricey for me. Well worth it if you earn a decent wage though: I urge you to check them out.
Partimi and Joanna Cave
I love Partimi‘s clean simple designs. Designer Eleanor Dorrien-Smith named her label after the architectural term parti, meaning the conceptual starting point for a project, and she makes beautiful wearable dresses adorned with simple graphic prints.
This season she paid homage to costumes from Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes that her mother had collected at auction. I particularly loved her collaboration with ethical jewellery designer Joanna Cave, and am lusting after a pair of graphic cut out dangly earrings.
Oria
This jewellery range is the baby of creative duo Tania Kowalski and Synnove Saelthun, who have worked in the jewellery industry for a combined 25 years. Increasingly concerned wih the social and environmental impact of mining they created Oria in 2007 with an intention to make the supply chain transparent.
They source from fair-trade companies, all materials are traceable to point of origin and then the jewellery is made in their London studio. I love the delicate dangly cutout earrings featuring bees and birds.
Oria by Faye West.
Michelle Lowe-Holder
I knew Michelle Lowe-Holder as a clothing designer, but after a break from the industry she’s decided to make a come back as an accessory designer. This was prompted by the realisation that she was always most interested in the details so she decided to be more sustainable and make use of the oodles of waste fabric from old collections – that she still has lying around in her studio – to create some stunning accessories: giant arm, neck and leg pieces are stacked to create dramatic silhouettes.
Speedo From Somewhere collaboration by Alia Gargum.
Made
Having just returned from a Fashion Business Club get together with the unexpectedly lucid Laura Bailey I thought I would also mention Made, a jewellery brand “by the people for the people” that is reasonably well known thanks to some high profile branding and wide distribution. They are big on their “designer” collaborations, though not designers I’ve ever heard of: since when was Laura Bailey a jewellery designer anyway? Boy do I want her job. I’m not a massive fan of a lot of their stuff (looks wise), but they do undeniably good things by providing trade for impoverished communities in Africa.
Upon arriving at the Vauxhall Fashion Scout venue, generic I was informed by a harassed-looking security guard that the show was running an hour late. Fortunately, the lovely (and rather pink-haired) Emma of Greene and Sheppard PR came out to meet me and introduced me to some seasoned fashionistas, who were now attending their ninth show of the day. After a lot of waiting and waving of our gold-starred tickets, we got seated on the front row of Carlotta Gherzi’s S/S 2012 show Triassic Glamour where I discovered a black cotton goodie bag that contained a sparkly set of Body Shop make-up.
This was well and truly a Spring/Summer collection – the first thing out on the runway was a cut-out, one-piece swim suit the perfect greeny-blue colour of an outdoor swimming pool on a balmy day.
Once again, Carlotta’s beautiful and innovative prints underpinned the entire collection. This time they were inspired by the fossil room of the British Museum, and printed on silk jersey, crepe de chine, silk chiffon and lycra and embellished with Swarovski crystals. The models had the feel of just having emerged from a beautiful exotic jungle.
Her models’ make-up was natural and their hair relaxed, as they floated down the runway in sheer printed kaftans and killer heels. 13 cm high heels designed by Carlotta Gherzi herself were encrusted with gems matching the clothes. The next pieces were as functional as they were pretty; metallic jackets, striped leggings and light-as-air summer dresses. The organic form of the prints working perfectly with the movement of fabric and model.
The next few outfits broke with the black, white, neutral and periwinkle blue we’d seen so far, and as they boldly clashed in shades of tangerine and that particularly vibrant shade of purple that some people mistake for blue.
The pieces combined structural, body-con elements, with free flowing drapes of sheer fabric, and asymmetry was a reoccurring theme. As different as Carlotta Gherzi‘s pieces were, they were all uniquely flattering to the female form.
The printed chiffon layers of a full-length gown wafted down the catwalk and, with that, the show was over. Afterwards Carlotta Gherzi was kind of enough to answer a few of my questions, and I will be revealing the answers shortly.
Written by Emma Block on Thursday September 22nd, 2011 10:55 am
I think it was round about show three at Fashion Mode when I was suddenly implored to shunt up into a non existent space so that two more people could be squeezed on to the end of the front row. Now excuse me, cure but if you’re that late to a fashion show, order isn’t it just polite behaviour to hover at the back? That’s certainly what I do when the situation arises.
So it was with mild aggravation that I watched the Florian Jayet collection parade in front of me. Jayet is known for his structured outfits befitting of a modern amazonian, viagra and for S/S 2012 he was inspired by the Japanese myth of Yurei, whereby those who are murdered must spend the afterlife seeking their killer in order to free their tormented spirits and finally reach heaven.
I think it must have been in the styling that this concept really took hold – models had seriously over the top back-combed hair, as if dragged through an otherworldly mire. Added to this they wore exceptionally dark eye make-up and bloodily smudged lips that gave the impression they had been feasting on something unholy. To top the look off they wore chain headdresses that draped low over their eyes. It was all in all an unappealing look that dominated the clothing far more than was necessary.
Florian Jayet S/S 2012. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
Far more successful were the smart tailored separates in white: structured skater dresses featuring cut out details and jackets with high waisted peplums and flowing caped sleeves. However printed floral lace panels and bodies were wide off the mark, giving the collection an unnecessarily cheap finish. Let’s hope that next season sees Florian Jayet return to form.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Saturday September 24th, 2011 4:42 pm
Isabella Falkirk (BA) Graduate Collection, mind by Faye West
On Saturday evening a selection of students from the Swedish School of Textiles transported their graduate collections to our fair city to give us a taster. A year ago, graduating students from Sweden did the same thing and Amelia was bowled over by what was on display, so I was pretty eager to see what this year’s offering offered.
The Vauxhall Fashion Scout venue at Freemason’s Hall wasn’t packed wall to wall like it usually is, which suits me fine – I was only mildly sweating as opposed to my usual soaking-wet state. A glance down the running order while I waited for the show to start revealed that this was to be pretty epic – no less than 17 BA and 4 MA graduates. Here goes!
Isabella Falkirk
The show kicked off with Isabella Falkirk. Foam shapes took centre stage, squared off to control the contours of the female form. The model was essentially wearing a foam box. The aesthetic was pleasing, but the model looked miserable, and I did have to wonder to myself how viable or groundbreaking this show opener was. A similar creation followed atop a model’s head, and I wondered further; this wasn’t fashion to wear on a visit to the shops to pick up milk. Despite this, underneath the shock tactics was some extremely wearable and well-tailored formal attire – sleek trousers and well-cut blazers. A reaction to the strains of work, the collection finished with a conceptual jacket with four or five layers, showing Falkirks’ vision a little more clearly. I liked this piece a lot.
Per Axén
Next came chic and crisp tailoring courtesy of Per Axén, whose concept through the juxtaposition of materials was a little more commercial but equally as enjoyable. A leather cape flirted with cream free-flowing trousers that looked elegant and futuristic at the same time. Other leathers had been married with cottons for the same effect, and geometric shapes featured, a la Mondrian.
Freja Sundberg Freja Sundberg‘s BA Graduate Collection, illustrated by Christina Demetriou
Up next came Freja Sundberg‘s homage to the working class people of Havana and their music and culture. A lively collection, it featured Cuban prints in a multitude of colours, plastic skirts and lively wigs with flashes of red. Statement jewellery also appeared, and the final piece, an extravagant gold silk dress with a discreet print, had been gathered with drawstrings and rucksack pulls. A real winner.
Sofi Svensson Sofi Svensson (BA) Graduate Collection, by Faye West
The standout collection for its sheer bravery, conceptualism and bloody amazing craftsmanship, was Sofi Svensson’s masked creatures. Models appeared like they had landed from a Doctor Who novel, wearing ghoulish masks with eyeholes that became long, wide dresses. Each had been encrusted and embellished to the max – jewels, crystals, plastic objects and mirrors filled every piece of the garment. Again, this was fashion as expression and conception rather than as a commercial commodity. Breathtaking, too.
Maja Dixdotter Maja‘s collection brought us back in to the real world a little, but was by no means boring. Beautiful pastel shades in lemon, lavender and blush were the colour palette. A structured jacket had been juxtaposed with a sheer micro dress, while a skirt and a top carried gorgeous flower details.
Linnéa Woxinger Sköld
‘Living creatures affect me in a way nothing else can,’ exclaims Linnéa Woxinger Sköld on the handout, ‘…and fashion, at its best, gets very close to this fascination. How close can I get?‘ Pretty close, love. Linnéa’s collection was a fusion of organic shapes and experimental materials. An unusual mint-coloured translucent number opened her showing, which had been gathered together working against the model’s body. A body-concious number followed, then other dresses with organic twists and turns. This was like something I’d never seen before, but I really liked it.
Elin Engström Elin Engström‘s BA Graduate Collection, by Christina Demetriou
Questioning the conquer-all ethos of the suit and fashion’s fascination with it, Elin Engström presented an expertly tailored collection in monochrome. The first model appeared with a large tube covering her face that looked a bit like those things you put on dogs to stop them sniffing their arses (is that what they’re for?) and was teamed with a large cloak. Later came a onesie, in which the model’s arms were unable to escape. Wild vase-like shapes were worn over the eyes, creating an ethereal effect. More tailoring followed with horse-hair details, but the real showstopper was an embellished translucent jacket with matching strange-vase-like-sunglasses-thingies.
Ida Klamborn
Closing the BA section of the show in dramatic fashion, Ida Klamborn presented an all-red collection of floor-length numbers. The colour choice and use of grand fabrics made for a sophisticated, luxurious collection of pleated skirts and high-waisted trousers. Sweet.
At this point I was desperate for the loo, and I just couldn’t make up my mind if I thought attendee Jay from E4 show Dirty Sexy Things was attractive*. I do love seeing graduate shows – they have fewer constraints and no worries about commerciality. But during London Fashion Week, with so many shows to think about, I did find it a little exhausting. The show wasn’t over, though, and we quickly launched into the MA graduates – you can read all about them in Akeela‘s review here!
*I decided in the end that yes, he probably is.
Written by Matt Bramford on Friday September 23rd, 2011 9:27 am
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, storeillness whole foods, order and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, ed before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
‘Tis true.
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here : http://audio.talitres.com/thelaw. Download now.
On arrival at the Topshop space in Billingsgate for Mary Katrantzou I pulled up my Pashley beneath a phalanx of official LFW cars and blacked out big name magazine people carriers. I usually find it takes me approximately the same amount of time to race between venues on my bike alongside said official cars, dosage no doubt being looked down upon by wealthy magazines’ fashion editors from behind those blacked out panes. In fact, treatment maybe I should post an ode to my preferred transport, order in much the same vein that Susie Bubble has been posting about her sponsored Orla Kiely car?
My Pashley locked up outside Somerset House.
I love cycling but it was a struggle – as usual – to lock my bike against a post without it, me and my cycling pannier capsizing in an (un)attractive pile. At times like these I very much hope I’m not being watched by those who are able to elegantly descend from their car in vertiginous heels.
We were only granted one ticket to Mary Katrantzou, beautifully pearlised and colourfully printed on heavy card. Clearly then, there was no chance that anyone else was going to lay their hands on it. Having scoped the layout during Michael Van Der Ham the day before I headed straight for what I considered the best position in the cavernous hall and discovered that I was sitting next to the proud mother of Mary’s right hand man, one Alexander Giantsis, also of Greek extraction… she quickly voiced her motherly worries about her son’s lack of sleep. None, the night before.
My spot proved the perfect place to capture the models as they swung around to face the bank of cameras right at the end of the looong catwalk. Mum Stephanie kept up a running commentary as I tried to concentrate on capturing the clothes whirring past me at the hyper fast pace that has characterised the catwalk shows this season.
Despite her own concerns that she’s pushing the parameters of what people will wear Mary Katrantzou has quickly built up a glowing reputation for her clashing prints and clever architectural constructions. Last season she took architecture as her starting point but this time she looked to interiors, quoting the Marchesa Luisa Casati in her press release: “I want to be a living work of art.”
Clever hooping was attached at waist level to create a kind of riser inspired by the shape of vases, Faberge eggs and porcelain bowls – beautiful, but the kind of thing that only the thinnest of girls can get away with wearing. More successful for bigger girls would be the wide hipped dresses, curved shoulders and over skirts that stood proud from the figure. Clashing prints inspired by “priceless objets d’art” were cut and merged to create a profusion of pattern and colour in both print, embroidery and intarsia knits.
One dress featured an extraordinary skirt covered in three dimensional roses in a diagonal pattern – certainly not for the faint hearted… or those who would like to be comfortable when sitting down. Towards the end a series of chiffon skirts swept onto the catwalk, billowing dramatically around the figure.
This A/W show was everything I had hoped for: Mary Katrantzou, a fashion designer after my own maximalist heart. I’m so glad that someone out there is confident enough to translate this type of vision onto clothing.
Mary Katrantzou A/W 2011. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, information pills whole foods, clinic and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
‘Tis true.
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here : http://audio.talitres.com/thelaw. Download now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, store whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here : http://audio.talitres.com/thelaw. Download now.
On arrival at the Topshop space in Billingsgate for Mary Katrantzou I pulled up my Pashley beneath a phalanx of official LFW cars and blacked out big name magazine people carriers. I usually find it takes me approximately the same amount of time to race between venues on my bike alongside said official cars, approved no doubt being looked down upon by wealthy magazines’ fashion editors from behind those blacked out panes. In fact, maybe I should post an ode to my preferred transport, in much the same vein that Susie Bubble has been posting about her sponsored Orla Kiely car?
My Pashley locked up outside Somerset House.
I love cycling but it was a struggle – as usual – to lock my bike against a post without it, me and my cycling pannier capsizing in an (un)attractive pile. At times like these I very much hope I’m not being watched by those who are able to elegantly descend from their car in vertiginous heels.
We were only granted one ticket to Mary Katrantzou, beautifully pearlised and colourfully printed on heavy card. Clearly then, there was no chance that anyone else was going to lay their hands on it. Having scoped the layout during Michael Van Der Ham the day before I headed straight for what I considered the best position in the cavernous hall and discovered that I was sitting next to the proud mother of Mary’s right hand man, one Alexander Giantsis, also of Greek extraction… she quickly voiced her motherly worries about her son’s lack of sleep. None, the night before.
My spot proved the perfect place to capture the models as they swung around to face the bank of cameras right at the end of the looong catwalk. Mum Stephanie kept up a running commentary as I tried to concentrate on capturing the clothes whirring past me at the hyper fast pace that has characterised the catwalk shows this season.
Despite her own concerns that she’s pushing the parameters of what people will wear Mary Katrantzou has quickly built up a glowing reputation for her clashing prints and clever architectural constructions. Last season she took architecture as her starting point but this time she looked to interiors, quoting the Marchesa Luisa Casati in her press release: “I want to be a living work of art.”
Clever hooping was attached at waist level to create a kind of riser inspired by the shape of vases, Fabergé eggs and porcelain bowls – beautiful, but the kind of thing that only the thinnest of girls can get away with wearing. More successful for bigger girls would be the wide hipped dresses, curved shoulders and over skirts that stood proud from the figure. Clashing prints inspired by “priceless objets d’art” were cut and merged to create a profusion of pattern and colour in both print, embroidery and intarsia knits.
One dress featured an extraordinary skirt covered in three dimensional roses in a diagonal pattern – certainly not for the faint hearted… or those who would like to be comfortable when sitting down. Towards the end a series of chiffon skirts swept onto the catwalk, billowing dramatically around the figure.
This A/W show was everything I had hoped for: Mary Katrantzou, a fashion designer after my own maximalist heart. I’m so glad that someone out there is confident enough to translate this type of vision onto clothing.
Mary Katrantzou A/W 2011. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
On arrival at the Topshop space in Billingsgate for Mary Katrantzou I pulled up my Pashley beneath a phalanx of official LFW cars and blacked out big name magazine people carriers. I usually find it takes me approximately the same amount of time to race between venues on my bike alongside said official cars, illness no doubt being looked down upon by wealthy magazines’ fashion editors from behind those blacked out panes, order but maybe I should post an ode to my preferred transport, link in much the same vein that Susie Bubble has been posting about her sponsored Orla Kiely car?
My Pashley locked up outside Somerset House.
I love cycling but it was a struggle – as usual – to lock my bike against a post without it, me and my cycling pannier capsizing in an (un)attractive pile. At times like these I very much hope I’m not being watched by those who are able to elegantly descend from their car in vertiginous heels.
We were only granted one ticket to Mary Katrantzou, beautifully pearlised and colourfully printed on heavy card. Clearly then, there was no chance that anyone else was going to lay their hands on it. Having scoped the layout during Michael Van Der Ham the day before I headed straight for what I considered the best position in the cavernous hall and discovered that I was sitting next to the proud mother of Mary’s right hand man, one Alexander Giantsis, also of Greek extraction… she quickly voiced her motherly worries about her son’s lack of sleep. That would be none then, the night before.
My spot proved the perfect place to capture the models as they swung around to face the bank of cameras right at the end of the looong catwalk. Mum Stephanie kept up a running commentary as I tried to concentrate on capturing the clothes whirring past me at the hyper fast pace that has characterised the catwalk shows this season.
Despite her own concerns that she’s pushing the parameters of what people will wear Mary Katrantzou has quickly built up a glowing reputation for her clashing prints and clever architectural constructions. Last season she took architecture as her starting point but this time she looked to interiors, quoting the Marchesa Luisa Casati in her press release: “I want to be a living work of art.”
Clever hooping was attached at waist level to create a kind of riser inspired by the shape of vases, Fabergé eggs and porcelain bowls – beautiful, but the kind of thing that only the thinnest of girls can get away with wearing. More successful for bigger girls would be the wide hipped dresses, curved shoulders and over skirts that stood proud from the figure. Clashing prints inspired by “priceless objets d’art” were cut and merged to create a profusion of pattern and colour in print, embroidery and intarsia knits.
One dress featured an extraordinary skirt covered in three dimensional roses in a diagonal pattern – certainly not for the faint hearted… or those who would like to be comfortable when sitting down. Towards the end a series of chiffon skirts swept onto the catwalk, billowing dramatically around the figure.
This A/W show was everything I had hoped for: Mary Katrantzou, a fashion designer after my own maximalist heart. I’m so glad that someone out there is confident enough to translate my type of design onto clothing.
Mary Katrantzou A/W 2011. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, stomach whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, information pills whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, salve whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. For a little bit of this, here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, ampoule whole foods, see and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. For a little bit of this, here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
Apparently Emilio de la Morena has lengthened his silhouette. His pieces are now touching, viagra sale or over the knee, nurse ‘signalling a new direction that is stricter and more refined.’ The body con is still there of course, thumb remaining tighter than a wetsuit, and both wigglier and feistier than Mad Men’s, Joan. That’s exactly what the collection made me think of: Joan and Jessica Rabbit. This translates to: HOT… but sophisticated.
Red Charlotte Olympia shoes featured throughout the show. Now, I’ve always been a fan of red shoes. From ballet to sky scraping, red shoes are sweet vixens, minxes, all playful and naughty. But less; “stop it Roger” and more; “Roger I want champagne, oysters and Chanel. Get them!” She needs a man, not a wimp. She will wear her shoes in the bath, and probably won’t speak to Roger much before or after – whatever happens between them. She’s an old school dressed WOMAN, not a girl, and she expects to be treated with respect. Like the stroppier ones in James Bond films, this woman can kick some ass. And answer back with cutting looks and witty, snappy words.
Other Charlotte Olympia shoes included a suede ankle boot and platform sandals in three colours, black, red, powder pink and ivory. All utterly lust-worthy. Heaven. The colour palette mirrors Emilio de la Morena Autumn/Winter collection, which focuses on black, dark purple and RED. The sombre tones of this show, inspired by the work of the American photographer Francesca Woodman and the circumstances surrounding her suicide in New York, in 1981, aged just 22. Her photographs are hauntingly beautiful and predominantly black and white. Emilio de la Morena wanted to reflect these sad circumstances, with his use of passionate, bruised and mourning colours. These give way however, to ivory and powder pink, making for delicate prettiness, next to the block melancholy. Together, the designs look classy, serious and fantastic. I see these beautiful women by the graves of Italian gangsters, weeping. They are hard, stunning and controlled, but what they love – they adore with all their hearts.
Victoriana also featured within Emilio de la Morena’s collection, but with a modern, sheer twist. Bib decoration and high necklines created from sheer, frayed and tufted organza, make it lighter, sexier and contemporary. The longer length, wool pencil skirts also featured sheer organza. With panels, embroidered in swirling, zig zagging ribbon, created in the material, as well as silk inserts. The additions allowing for fluidity of movement.
The collection felt serious and respectfully attractive. Not flirty, terribly young, overly romantic or precocious. Instead very sensual and confident. The red stole the show. However, like red lipstick on a make up less face, it looked the most alluring, when it was paired with the other other colours. The eyes and lips are too much – alone they are beautiful. Such a bright red needed the other colours to avoid being lost, and to stand out as a solitary statement. And you know, if the three women were sobbing by the grave, each with an accent of red, just imagine… scandalous, stylish, powerful and mysterious RED.
Written by Helen Martin on Monday February 28th, 2011 7:33 pm
