It’s been a year for the bygone eras, that’s for sure. First we had Vintage at Goodwood, then there’s an exhibition celebrating Horrockses 1950s style at the Fashion & Textile Museum, and now the V&A wants in on the action. Well it’s not strictly their first foray into the era; in fact it was all the way back in April that Grace Kelly: Style Icon hit down in London and has been fully booked ever since (well that’s how it seemed whenever I’ve tried to visit anyway.)

Illustration by Katherine Tromans

So what perfect timing for them to present…..drum roll please……an evening of “Retro Hollywood Glamour.” And it was at the end of August that I was whisked away to party with the likes of Alfred Hitchcock and Marilyn Monroe (metaphorically speaking) whilst the DJ spun the hits of yesteryear. All in all people were drinking champagne and were having a jolly spiffing time.

But probably the most spectacular aspect of the evening was the amount of people who committed and dressed up to the nines as their heroes. Men and women put on their most dapper suits and fullest skirts to party, and most made a pretty good job of it.

Illustration by Kellie Black

If you so fancied (and could cope with the queue!) your flowing locks could also be transformed into something quite spectacular (involving rollers and a lot of hairspray) and similarly a Hollywood makeover was available all within movie star tents boasting lighted mirrors in the grand entrance hall. The perfect way to complement your 1950s outfit and finally feel like a movie star.

And that wasn’t all for the events going on throughout the evening. Everything was thought of; from acting out radio plays, partaking in a screen printing workshop, doodling away with Daisy de Villeneuve or simply reminiscing over old movie trailers. Not bad for a night out at the museum.

As part of the Friday Lates this Summer at the V&A, it was a spectacular event. Maybe we can hope for the swinging 60s in the Autumn?

Retro Hollywood Glamour at the V&A: in Pictures

All photographs by Jemma Crow

Back in 2007, experimental hip hop pioneer Flying Lotus released the Reset EP, which was met with critical acclaim largely due to the outstanding track Tea Leaf Dancers. The stunning fusion of glitchy hip hop and progressive soul remains the LA producer’s most popular song to date, thanks in no small part to a stunning vocal accompaniment that gave the track a melancholy, love-ridden feel. Those sultry, elegiac vocals were provided by London born singer-songwriter Andreya Triana and this year marks the release of her exceptional debut album Lost Where I Belong.
Triana began her musical journey at the age of fourteen when her family moved from south east London to the West Midlands, a move that that left her feeling cut off from society. “I grew up in Brixton,” begins the singer. “It was so culturally diverse, and then I moved to a predominantly white, middle class area so I felt quite isolated. I just started spending a lot of time in my room, writing poetry and making songs.”
After years of honing her song writing abilities, good fortune shone down on Triana when she was selected from thousands of applicants to attend the prestigious Red Bull Music Academy. “I became obsessed with getting in,” says Triana, with wide eyed excitement that suggests she is still in mild disbelief that she was chosen. “When I found out I got in I screamed the house down!”

It was here that Triana met up with Flying Lotus and the duo created what would become Tea Leaf Dancers, even though she had no idea who she was actually working with at the time. “I didn’t really know anything about his music,” admits Triana. “It’s crazy thinking about it all of these years later. There were about thirty of us collaborating and that was only one of hundreds of collaborations.”
Despite the success of Tea Leaf Dancers, Triana would not get the opportunity to prove her worth as a solo artist until several years later when a chance meeting with downtempo trip hop artist Bonobo changed her life forever. “Bonobo and I had a lot of mutual friends,” says the singer, now residing in Brighton. “I heard that he needed a singer for one of his tracks, I came on board and it just developed from there. I wasn’t really that familiar with his music.”
The result was The Keeper, a beautifully laid back soul classic that is reminiscent of Jill Scott at her most poignant. This collaboration would develop into a beautiful working relationship where the pair would bounce ideas off one another until each lovingly-crafted track on Triana’s debut album was complete. “I wrote the songs with a guitar and I would come up with the harmonies,” she advises. “With Bonobo, it’s like I brought the bare bones and he brought them to life. It was really fun.”
Even though Triana has been fortunate enough to work with two of the world’s leading electronic music producers, she is adamant that both happened as a result of good luck. “None of it was pre-determined,” states Triana. “I didn’t work with Bonobo because he is a massive producer. It was because he was a good friend and I feel really comfortable with him.”

In person, Triana is every bit as captivating and endearing as the music she creates. Taking a break from signing promotional copies of Lost Where I Belong in the Ninja Tune headquarters, the singer advises: “The whole time I was doing the album, I was just praying that it would touch people. It’s nice when people come up to me and tell me that they really felt a certain song.”
Triana’s breathtaking brand of neo soul seems destined to captivate audiences in dimly lit, basement jazz bars throughout the world and her abstract lyricism means that her music has the ability to take on many different meanings. With over nine thousand followers on Myspace, Triana has over double the amount of fans as label mate and 2009 Mercury Prize winner Speech Debelle, and this is before her album has even been released. This beautiful lady seems to be on the verge of a cult phenomenon.
Lost Where I Belong is out now via Ninja Tune.

The fashion world is in mourning over the loss of another of its brightest stars. Corinne Day, the fashion photographer known for shooting Kate Moss at the beginning of her career, has died aged 45.

Her documentary-style photography shook up the fashion world in the nineties, at a time when the industry was looking for an antidote to the gloss and glamour of the eighties.  

Born in Ickenham, west London, Day she was raised by her grandmother (her mother, she said, ran a brothel, and her father was not in the picture), and after failing school, worked as a courier. A chance meeting with a photographer led to a short-lived modeling career – Corinne knew she was no cover girl – but through it she met her lifetime partner Mark Szaszy, who taught her how to use a camera.  

It was behind the lens that Corinne shone, and whilst modeling in Milan, she started snapping ‘what she knew’ – her friends – teenage models, hanging around cramped, dingy flats, dressed in charity shop finds.  

This was before the age of street style or fashion bloggers, where anyone with a camera and a passport could jet set around the world, snapping chic from the sidewalks. Her subversive shots caught the eye of Phil Bicker, then art director of The Face, who commissioned a shoot that was to become the stuff of fashion legend.  

The story of Corinne and Kate is well-documented. Day saw promise in a polaroid of the wannabe model, just 16. The ‘3rd Summer of Love’ in July 1990, saw Kate frolicking on a beach in Camber Sands, dressed in a mismatch of high-end designer and cheap market finds. The shoot caused a sensation. The two became firm friends, sharing a flat for three years – this closeness was something Corinne shared with many of her subjects, enabling her to capture them at their most natural.  

Shoots for Vogue followed – (Day was the first to shoot Kate for one of her countless Vogue covers) with Corinne teaming up the stylist Melanie Ward to create the now infamous ‘waif’ look. Her ‘Underexposed’ sequence saw Kate Moss languishing in a bedsit festooned with fairy lights, skinny in saggy tights, creating outrage in the national press for encouraging anorexia and heroin use.  

But nothing could stop Day’s rise to stardom. Her stark, fearlessly honest photographs welcomed in a new mood suited to a country recovering from a recession.  
After a decade of supermodels with their Amazonian bodies and diva demands, Day’s idea of perfection was imperfection. She hated retouching photographs, and favoured quirky models with only traces of makeup, exposed to natural light. Her shots of street kids in second-hand clothes summed up the anti-glamour aesthetic of Generation X. It was an answer to Seattle’s grunge movement – but uniquely British, and effortlessly cool.   

Influenced by the work of documentary artists like Nan Goldin, she sought to capture people’s “most intimate moments”, when “we’re not having such a good time”. This extended to her own life, when she was diagnosed with a brain tumour in 1996, and asked her partner to photograph her battling with the illness. The result was published as ‘Diary’ in 2001.  

After recovering from her first bout of illness, Corinne continued to shoot for fashion magazines, as well as documenting her own friends and family. Her work was commissioned by the National Portrait Gallery, exhibited everywhere from the V&A to the Saatchi, and even the subject of a BBC Four documentary.  

Corinne will always be known as the girl who kick-started heroin chic, but her legacy will be something greater. Writing in The Telegraph, stylist Belinda White commented how, growing up as a working class girl, she “had no business” looking at Vogue and “couldn’t relate” to the stories on the magazine pages. The Kate Moss shoot made her “stop in her tracks” and realize that for the first time, normal girls ‘like her’ could be a part of this world.  

Corinne Day’s photographs democratized fashion, and made it ‘real’ and relevant to a girl on the street. Only under her guise could Kate Moss, a short, flat-chested girl from Croydon, rise up the echelons of the fashion world.  

All images © Corinne Day

It isn’t very often that a specific fashion designer is singularly celebrated for their contributions to fashion; when the V&A presented the Vivienne Westwood retrospective in 2004, fashion fans were delirious at the opportunity to revel amongst the creations of our most fashionable Dame. This month, the team at Selfridges reopen the Westwood archives and present a glorious exhibition devoted entirely to Vivienne Westwood’s revolutionary footwear.

Vivienne Westwood, illustrated by Abi Daker

What began as a calm stroll into central London on a bank holiday Monday soon descended into chaos – it was absolutely heaving (and to those of you shouting OF COURSE IT WAS YOU BLOODY IDIOT at the screen – yeah, I know). A text to remind me I was going to a party at Shoreditch House as early as 6pm didn’t help either, so me and the other half legged it down Oxford Street to catch the exhibition, and thank heavens we did.

Located in the chic Ultralounge on the lower ground floor of Selfridges (where previous exhibitions and pop-ups have occurred, including the brilliant 100 years of Selfridges display), the room features long rows of glass cabinets holding a huge selection of Westwood footwear from over the years. The black walls are sparse, with a few large images from advertising campaigns and of Our Viv herself dotted here and there, and a show reel of some of Westwood’s awe-inspiring catwalk shows at the back of the room, featuring a soundtrack of sexed-up national anthems and punk hits. It is, however, row after row of shoes displayed like the crown jewels that capture the imagination the most.

Ordered chronologically, the exhibition charts the literal rise and rise of Dame Viv’s footwear, from surviving examples from SEX and Seditionaries, (including leopard mules worn by SEX shop assistant Jordan) right through to Propoganda pirate boots (worn mostly by the gays and people from Leeds) and pairs seen at the most recent fashion weeks. The most interesting comparison drawn when you’ve seen every pair is that there isn’t much of a comparison at all – similar shapes and themes are echoed through the ages, shoes that have been consistently daring and innovative.

Illustration by Joana Faria

There must be over 100 pairs on display, all of which are a delight to view, but here are some of my favourites:

Mock Crock Elevated Gillie from Anglomania, AW 1993

Frilly petit-pied sandal (there is a shoe in there somewhere) from Blue Sky, SS 2005

Elevated court shoe in PVC, 1994, illustrated by Dee Andrews

Can shoes, from Ultra Feminity, SS 2003

Biba shoes, from Le flou taillé, AW 2003

MAN coin sandals, from MAN, SS 2005

Swarovski court shoe with Gina, from 56, SS 2008

The exhibition is supported by Melissa, the wonderful Brazilian-born ethical label that champions Melflex®, the recycled plastic phenomenon that uses sustainable and environmentally friendly production processes. Beginning with plastic versions of iconic Vivienne Westwood shoes, the collaboration has grown to include many of the archive styles on display at the exhibition (re-imagined in plastic, of course).

Exhibitions of this calibre, celebrating our fashion designers and presented so brilliantly, don’t come around very often. So if you’re in London and anywhere near Selfridges, do check it out – you won’t be disappointed.

Illustration by Meera Lee

Until 22 September, admission free.

Get all the important details here.

All photography by Matt Bramford

Now, here’s a treat. Hopefully you caught Georgia Takacs’ wonderful insight into the awe-inspiring world of Prangsta Costumiers last week: the celebrated (if somewhat unconventional) Alice in Wonderland-esque bazaar in New Cross.

Now I would never in a million years suggest that readers of Amelia’s Magazine come to the site just to look at pretty pictures, what with our bursting-at-the-seams stock of fabulous writers, but in order to bring a little sunshine and entertainment to a so far grey Wednesday, feast your eyes on some glorious images and illustrations from Prangsta.

Georgia, who wrote the article, took part in a shoot with the team there, capturing the many faces that pass through the doors and even more of the craft-packed corners of this wonderful find. So here they are. I’m convinced you could look at this place all day and never get bored – I hope you agree!

Illustration by Krister Selin

The latest shoot focuses on a somewhat macabre Snow White, shown with an array of weird and wonderful friends:

Illustration by Rachel de Ste. Croix

Prangsta also worked with ethereal fashion photographer Ellen Rogers, and the result is astonishing. Rogers’ photographs make heavy use of photographic techniques from long ago, evoking (for me at least) images of Marlene Dietrich in Hot Venus and the eery portraits of death popular in the Victorian age. Whatever they evoke, this marriage of Prangsta and Rogers is incredible.

Photographs by Ellen Rogers

To read the original article about the wonderful world of Prangsta, click here.

“It was when we were awarded a giant golden penis at the Erotic Awards, that has to be my best moment here so far. It was a fashion show that went really well and everything came to plan.” Holly Jade picked up, with grinning pride, a huge, winged and golden figurine of male genitalia. As manager of a successful London business, you might expect a more contained answer from Holly, who sits adorned with silver chains, ripped tights and purple streaked hair. Wait a second. Scrap that.

Prangsta Costumiers is far from conventional. “We don’t try and be something that we’re not.” And quite rightly so. Why play the fashion game when their concept already oozes the type of London decadence, imagination and crisp tailoring that one would expect from the likes of Westwood? Seem like an overstatement? Well, yes. But don’t knock this place until you’ve seen it.

I first came across Prangsta when strolling through the streets of New Cross with my mum (as you do). We stopped outside the barred up, clouded shop window and strained our eyes through the metal, trying to fathom what this place was. Despite my mum’s adamance that it was a brothel, she confidently ducked under the corrugated iron and called out for any possible inhabitants. A French lady emerged. She beckoned us inside, casually wearing a riding helmet (as one also does).

An Aladdin’s cave still is the only way to describe it. Trunks and dressers spilling with jewels, brooches, elaborate belts, crowns and masks; dishevelled bustiers heaped with wigs and mad fabric; a trapeze swinging from the ceiling. There was no order. It was undisputed beautiful chaos.

The best part? Every costume is hand-made and tailored by the tight-nit Prangsta team. “We try to purchase as little material as possible so we go to a lot of vintage markets and also get a lot of materials donated to us. We take apart old costumes and old fabrics and then restore them and make them into our own Prangsta designs.” This kind of eco-awareness has been a core principle of Prangsta ever since Melanie Wilson founded the company in 1998. “She studied fashion at Central Saint Martins and really hated how wasteful the fashion industry was portrayed to her.”

Theatrical and period costume dominates Prangsta’s extensive mish-mash gallery of stunning work. A Victorian suited wolf, a burlesque fox or perhaps a two of diamonds playing card? (The shop does have an astonishingly brilliant Alice in Wonderland collection). Simply enter their hidden world and you could transform into characters you barely knew of. Hell, you could make up your own! Or at least leave the imagination to Holly herself, who styles her clients’ costumes rather than creating the pieces in their 1500 square foot studio in Deptford.

I of course guided the conversation onto that 21st birthday party of one Daisy Lowe. Daisy, her mother Pearl and several members of the star-studded guestlist were dressed by Holly and her talented team. Daisy, in particular, wore floor-skimming jaw-dropping ‘Ice Queen’-esque attire. “It was great… They are rock n’ roll royalty. Daisy is a lovely girl and a pleasure to dress.”  
 
And their impressive list of clients doesn’t end there. Prangsta have also dressed The Noisettes (Shingai, the lead singer, used to work for the company), the Moulettes, the White Stripes, the BBC2 comedy drama ‘Psychoville’ and, get this, have even dressed Florence & The Machine.

Holly insists, however, that dressing such high-flying stars aren’t considered amongst Prangsta’s greatest achievements. I know. ‘You what?’ was my reaction too. But she continued… “I think it’s more of an achievement that we’ve been going like this for 12 years. We’ve made everything ourselves and we’re a London-based local business. Everyone works really hard. We work long hours, sometimes 12 hour days, and keeping the business running I think is more of an achievement.”

And she’s right. The Prangsta team do seem to work incessantly hard. They don’t just simply lend beautiful costumes to individuals. They tour all different festivals throughout the summer. They organize community nights for local performers and artists. They scour markets and thrift stores for the beautiful trinkets and treasures you’ll see placed around their shop. They even run their own dressmaking classes which take place in their Deptford studio. “Classes are taught by Mel and two of her seamstresses,” she says. I then of course comment on the advantage to the class members by being taught by Melanie, being an ex-Saint Martin’s student and pioneer of this mad palace. Holly even mentioned to me how Melanie began squatting in the building that we were sitting in. “Mel started out completely alone, from nothing.”How’s that for a success story?

I also just HAD to ask about that haunting but quirky shop-front that had my mum so convinced we were about to come across prostitutes. Holly laughed when I told of her of this.  
“We do what we can. We’re in New Cross, not in Soho. And I guess we’re quite an urban team. We’re quite subversive, eccentric characters. It is quite dilapidated but we’re a small business in a rundown area.” But no excuses were necessary. I really and truly loved the subversive exterior. And, well, the mysterious look of Prangsta is certainly parallel with the mysterious Melanie, who apparently prefers not to do interviews (damn, eh?).  
 
Prangsta sure has got a good thing going, but they’re not stopping there. They have pretty big plans for future expansion. “One day we will have an online shop. People will be able to click on, say, a little hat and will be able to request one to be made for them. Within the next five years I’d say we’d like to be working on expanding our costume collection and maybe pump out a fashion collection aswell. We’d like to break through this wall to next door so that we can have an exhibition space and put a lot of costumes up on the walls like a bit of a gallery, have some music playing with a DJ, have some chai on the go. Above all, we want to provide a really quality service by restoring and recycling aswell as contributing to the community.”

After seeing the place for the second time, and speaking to Holly, it appears that not only Prangsta’s enchanting costumes, but also it’s intriguing story and extensive achievement is a true example of what those young, fun, London minds are made of.

Prangsta can be found at 304, New Cross Road, London. 
Costumes are between £80-100 to rent for 5 days and are also sold at individual prices. 
Their next dressmaking classes begin on Wednesday 22nd September from 7 – 9.30pm and cost £200. There is a maximum class size of 10 (so get in there quick if you’re interested!).

Bike by Mark Taplin

Sorry about that, it is in the listings, possibly you are even reading this after the exhibition has closed in which case HELLO IN THE FUTURE (look out for flying cars, in the London Transport Museum, which would be the appropriate place, just don’t pay the £10 entrance fee in hope of seeing illustrations if they have already gone.)

This is the second collaborative competition venture the Association of Illustrators and the Museum have undertaken. Due to some factors, possibly such as their acquiring of a twitter account since last year this one was considerably more competitive than the last. I have it from the actual woman whose job it was to count them that there were over 3000 entries for the 50 places in the exhibition. Am I still a little bitter that I didn’t get in? Only a little, as the standard of the work that did get in is in general very high indeed.

Life cycles by Kevin Ward

It’s a beautiful show that really exemplifies the amazing wealth and variety of Illustration talent around. Not all of the work was to my taste but given the breadth of styles included that’s not really surprising; the AOI on typically excellent form at celebrating the medium.

Amidst the variety of work from established and unknown artists some trends are discernable; many illustrators have worked in animals either using the London Zoo as an iconic destination or including pigeons or dogs to help out with the green association as this is after all an exhibition exonerating the environmental benefits of cycling in the city (woo – go bikes).

Some pieces like Jove’s beautifully designed utopian poster, Jessid Ford’s gorgeous graphic colours ‘A to B and all the sights in between’ print and Mark Taplin’s lovely single colour classic screen print style image echo the classic transport posters which the London Transport Museum has long loved and displayed and sold on postcards.

the only way to see London by Courtney Lee

Although this was my first visit to the Museum it does seem to have this dual personality. The visiting tourist children who must surely be its main market come for the fun interactive displays, the chance to get photographed driving a routemaster, and apparently the chance to run around and collect holes punched in a gotta catch em all style transport treasure trail. A brand new Boris Bicycle is the centrepiece in the tucked away gallery space where the show is housed and while I was there families and older children in groups often came in, checked off the bike on their list and left again with not more than a passing glance at the art on the walls.

I hope there are people like me and the other lone visitor giving a significant amount of time to the exhibition that also come to the Museum for its other angle – the amazing wealth it has in its association with artists both in projects like Cycling in London and other initiatives like art on the underground which has been going for years and features inspiring new art on underground station walls and in their outstanding collection of classic advertising posters which London Transport has commissioned over the decades. Many of these can be seen adorning souvenirs and postcards in the Museum shop – which happily can be accessed without paying the entrance fee. Perhaps more people would be likely to see this exhibition if it could be accessed separately from the Museum proper at a reduced fee.

Rachel Lillie’s first prize winning entry

Perhaps they could have also chosen a different image other than the winning illustration to use on their posters advertising the show which have been well spread across the city. I don’t wish to say anything against the judges choice or Rachel Lillie’s beautiful piece but as an eye catching image with a wide appeal I think there were many pieces in the show that would have been a better choice.
Evgenia Barinova’s awesome striking poster like piece on wood for example which dominates the far end of the room with its inspirational message ‘if Super Heroes couldn’t fly they’d ride a Bike!’ or Laura Callaghan’s fantastically serene flying cyclists setting a joyful example and clearly having more fun than their tube riding counterparts.

Freewheel by Laura Callaghan

There are things that make illustration itself, rather than fine art, and things that make it great. Looking at their selection of winners the AOI clearly are big fans of the medium’s capacity for a sort of dualistic immediacy – a leaf which is also a map, an aerial view which is also a bicycle and nature and cyclists incorporated into a beautiful decorative inclusive layout in the tradition of a William Morris wallpaper. (I’d quite like a Mia Nilsson wallpaper actually – anyone from Habitat buying reading?). They seem to have favoured visual sense and simple dense colour over drawing or realism. This is an ideal in illustration that I think some people seem to put on a bit of a pedestal but as I said before it is far from the only style on show.

close up of Mia Nillson’s winning artwork

Another quality of illustration – it’s relationship with and commentary on popular culture is also much in evidence here; Jamie Wieck’s hilarious the joy of cycling being an obvious standout with subtler cultural references in Patrick O’leary’s mods on push bikes instead of scooters and Ross Crawford’s lovely cockney rhyming poster combining the classic and bang up to date cultural takeoff (blessedly does not actually include the over used ‘keep calm and…’). ‘Many Artists Who Do One Thing’s awesome circus graffiti style poster is cheeky but to the point – cycling is fun, and a little bit revolutionary.

The Joy of Cycling by Jamie Wieck

Look after your Jam tart by Ross Crawford

Also present are our gorgeous children’s book style contingent with their universal appeal; Kevin Ward’s fantastic animal charactrers in retro colours(?) and Courtney Lee Bourdman’s happy happy tourists on their double decker bicycle bus (clearly uniting the Museum’s selling points perfectly); Catherine Denvir combines digital techniques for a more tongue in cheek surreal childish quality.

Speed Cycling by IGnjat Reljic Djuric

The strong classic illustrative style of simple expressive drawing is exemplified by Ignjat Reljic Djuric’s perfectly balanced piece where the cyclist seems like a plucky underdog to the epic red buildings; old favourite Belle Mellor provides a fantastically idiosyncratic interpretation although not the only illustrator to use London landmarks as hats (make of that what you will) – David Hughes also does this with as ever lovely ink lettering and layout. Judit Ferencz’s hand drawn image makes excellent use of space and Alex Bitskoff also uses layout magnificently (although not simply) with his richly coloured city wave erupting into the clean environmental space.

allways leisurely with Bicycle by Judit Ferencz

One of the things I like about illustration is that in this medium quick simple execution and epic complex work are equally as valid. What matters in an illustration is the impact and the joy and the communication. And illustrators can be amazingly skilled at thinking of new conceptual and exciting ways of presenting the same idea – their bread and butter work is often sexing up the figures in business magazines after all. Some of these pieces clearly got in to the final 50 for the idea used, others for the execution.

what’s that? you’ve snuck in your own unsuccesful entry to the competition Jenny Robins? cheeky bint.

I’ve not even talked about my very favourite school of illustration present in Cycling in London! – I love me some collage and there are fantastic examples in the work of Alison Bell whose lovely retro collage and print techniques clearly echoes the recent Varoom feature on the resurgence of the medium (how could they not include it then?); Lianne Harrison makes cool creepy bus-stop characters and Tracy Long’s tiny magazine faces on fancifull animal cyclists stole my heart, although I don’t think St Paul’s in the background adds anything. I imagine she added it to fit the brief about Cycling in London but looking at what else has got through I think she could have got away without it.

Goodbye to the Hustle and Bustle by Lianne Harrison

Eye Eye around London by Tracy Long’

I was running out of time before closing but just had time to check out Georgina Brookes’ awesome cutouty graphic layering and Clayton Junior’s ace layout and colours employing a classic illustration immediate impact swap technique.

I had to leave through a secret staircase and the Museum employee waiting to lock up behind me smiled beautifully saying “interesting exhibition isn’t it?”
Well yes, it most definitely is, but the wording of the comment shows the attitude that this is something unusual is still the norm. I go to more illustration exhibitions than fine art ones, and in this world it’s easy to forget that to most people it’s still a bit of a non-concept. (you’re an illustrator eh? Cartoons? No? Book covers then? – sound familiar?) And good on the LTM for putting on projects like this but the way it’s presented on the posters and tucked away at the back of the museum still seem to me to reinforce it’s esotericness. Which is just a little sad. But let’s not end on a down note. Maybe illustration is like the poor relation of art – but is not the bicycle the poor relation of the car? And which is cooler, greener more, you know, government endorsed?

On your bike kids.

So, people in London have started cycling. How weird is that? Plenty of people have pointed out that cycling is the fastest form of transport which can solve both of Britain’s current crises; obesity and peak oil. You’re aware, of course, that we are all energy guzzling fatties and the only way we can be cured is through the power of the BIKE?! Two wheels good, four wheels bad. Sod the traffic and the ‘advisory’ cycle lanes; as Critical Mass proved, cyclists are taking to the streets and when they get out in force, cars have to MOVE OVER. Quite literally. The bikes might be a bit slow and only have three gears, but that’ll just help you to shift the puppy fat. A lot has been said about the awesome-osity of cycling and, alongside eating less meat, it is a move which could lead toward the saving of the world. Bikes are people-powered, just like the best revolutions, and the only contribution they make towards emissions are the heated words you might emit towards that bastard lorry driver. I’m lucky enough to live in an area where I can cycle in and out of town with minimal cycling on roads, and as soon as I get into Bristol, cycling capital of the U.K!, I can just chain my bike up and wander into the centre, barely having to navigate the dodgy traffic. London, however, is a helluva lot more dangerous for anyone not sitting inside a tonne of box-shaped steel and so this Cycle Scheme could really go both ways.

Boris, apparently, is all about getting one in five Londoners cycling, a figure which hasn’t been seen since 1904 when 20% of journeys were made by bike. He’s also keen to overtake the Paris Velib scheme, but I’ve been to France, those Parisians are nippy. Nippy and chic. According to most eyewitnesses of the London cycle scheme, the majority of users are the middle-aged wobblers who haven’t been on a bike for twenty years, and according to most of those who disparage the scheme this is a bad thing. No to aged cyclists, causing traffic accidents! The idea that it might be worthwhile for motorists to Stop, Look and Not Drive Into Cyclists is under discussion. Transport for London are offering free and subsidised cycle training for those who feel they need it (or those who get intimate with a few too many wing-mirrors) as well as ‘Exchanging Places’ if you fancy getting a lorry driver’s perspective on bicycles and blind spots. Some fuss has been made about helmets not being provided and/or being too bulky for people to carry around with them. This argument seems a little odd to me. Surely, if you want to wear a helmet in order not to DIE, then you can put up with the rather less terminal inconvenience of having a helmet on you. If you don’t want to cycle without a helmet, then, um, maybe, don’t? The choice is yours! Hopefully the scheme will see an increase in super-safe cycling, with all road users keeping an eye out for each other and attempting to avoid accidents, which will lead to more cycle lanes, more potential cyclists taking to the streets and less people using cars, eventually coming to a tipping point whereby every road user is a cyclist! (Hey, a girl can dream…) Alternately, a bunch of newby cyclists could get critically injured, thus proving all the naysayers (who probably drive 4×4s and have never seen a real cow) right.

Word on the web is that people seem to be finding that the service is either awesome! Would use again! A++! What a good idea! Few of the negative concerns from actual users seem safety orientated, but are more that the service doesn’t let them have a bike, doesn’t let them dock a bike and has that branding from a bank which might have put £25 million towards seeing people fit and healthy on the road, but also put £7300 million towards bombs, according to anti-war protestors who stickered some of the bikes shortly after their unveiling. Whether Barclays invests in war or not, they also skipped out on paying maybe £60 million in taxes, so, while they’ve done something great and kind and wise and benevolent here with the old Green front, they’re not exactly fluffy enviro-bunnies, ready with a hand-out for any out of pocket hippy who might have a hard time stumping up the £45 annual registration fee. Consider, for a moment, also, that companies are charged £3,625 a week for their ads to be biked around London aaand you have to wonder if what Barclays have done isn’t a little self-serving. In fact, you probably knew that without knowing the cost. What you might not know is that the Government let the aviation industry off around £9 billion a year on fuel tax…a sum which sure might pay for a few cycle schemes! Maybe even in other big cities! Or provide subsidies for folk who can’t afford the £45 a year registration fee! Without the need to have huge corporations slapped on their rears! (The bikes, that is. Not the Government. Although maybe that is something I would like to see…)

Boris; French onion seller, illustration by Jessica Rose Anne

£45 for an annual registration, £3 for a key, and the first half hour free generally seems quite a reasonable price compared to the cost of bikes and maintenance (mine is currently rotting in a friend‘s garden due to the insurmountable obstacle of a flat tyre) but the fact that you’re advertising Barclays with every pedal you push is what grinds my gears. Not only are you effectively owed three grand every week you cycle for, but are also made complicit in the insidious advertising which pervades our modern society. At least there isn’t an anti-fatty campaign, yet; the words “Put the Donut Down” scrolling menacingly around the outer rim of the rear wheel…Still, there is hope! Some bloggers have already begun removing the advertising from their keys, with the aid of just a scouring pad and some elbow grease. So, it’s not all bad. Internet communities are already springing up around the bikes; on Twitter by using the #mlc hashtag, users can log their bike id, unlock badges, ‘rule’ bikes and tweet sneaky tips. Boris Bikes is a forum providing support and information that the, slightly overwhelmed, TfL helpline may not be able to, and London cycling bloggers are reporting on techniques and faults that users need to know.

So far, only Pioneers have been using the system, that is people who registered, and reported the over-tight back wheels and docking problems, but in the future, when the kinks are ironed out, casual users will be able to hop up hop up to the docking stations and hop on, by popping in their credit card and popping out a bike. Yes, it will be another spot for enterprising thieves to appropriate your personals, but, if that doesn’t happen, it’s cheaper than buying a bike. Just try to avoid looking like an elderly French onion seller a la Boris, but feel free to shout at people throwing litter!

Fashion and film have long been bedfellows, but with the roaring success of Nick Knight’s SHOWstudio video blog, and luxury brands like Chanel making their own mini movies, the ‘Fashion Film’ is finally stepping into the spotlight.

When she’s not working as an illustrator or playing in her band, Fables, Marnie Holland makes fashion films, teaming up with avant-garde designer Ziad Ghanem on film short, JME.

JME from Marnie Hollande on Vimeo.

Specializing in performance pieces involving sculptural costume during her BA at Goldsmiths, it seems inevitable that Marnie would make the move into fashion films, and Ghanem’s theatrical, otherwordly clothing make the perfect muse.

Your collaboration with Ziad Ghanem is fantastic – is this your first film?
Thanks! I made films from all my performance pieces but it’s my first film with a vague narrative, yes.

How did you meet him, and end up collaborating on the project?
I contacted to him originally to work in his studio, which I did for a while, which lead to working more exclusively with the performance and choreographic side of his last show. But film is one of the main inspirations in Ziad’s work, so making a film was always something he’s wanted to do. After I showed him my work I was just in the right place at the right time.

What were your (and the designer’s) aims – to showcase the clothes?
No not as such, it was more to reiterate the brand. A lot of how it was constructed was taken from what’s already present in Ziad’s work – such as the Baroque, symbolism, melodrama, Romanticism and London as a character.

But also to focus primarily on the subject, which is part of the basic design process for Ziad’s clothes – tailoring the piece to the individual. Jme (the model in the film) has modelled many of the Ghanem collections and has a very alluring natural melancholy and stillness about his look; it was pretty much written about him!

Ziad Ghanem is known as the ‘cult couturier’ and for mixing street wear and couture –was that an element of his work you wanted to convey in the film?
Not consciously, or at least not specifically to reflect that nametag. I suppose the shifts between a couture silk cape, a PVC printed tracksuit and eventually desecrating the garment adhere to Ziad’s mixing of high and low cultural influences.

But it was the more that the ceremony of the transitions would lead the film narrative and the pieces would frame them. I like that the clothes characterize the changes and change Jme’s role.

Anyway in terms of mixing, Ziad is inspired by everything. Whatever you pick from his pieces or from his ideas will clash harmoniously; that’s his gift.

DUAL from Marnie Hollande on Vimeo.

Could you describe some of the difficulties/limitations in translating fashion onto the big screen?
I suppose sticking to the point could be challenge. It’s a fashion film after all, not a Sundance entry. There’s a brand to look after. But it shouldn’t be difficult if the clothes inspire you.

Do you do everything yourself – e.g. planning, filming, editing, or is your work more collaborative?
Yes, with the help of camera/lighting extraordinaire Roman Rappak, who is, luckily for me, already an amazing filmmaker. Also Maeve Keeley and Athena Kleanthous who made everything run like clockwork.

Have you got any more projects with Ghanem in the pipeline?
Yes indeed. We’ll be making a short-film involving the whole collection in time for this year’s London Fashion Week.

Why do you think the fashion industry has started to wake up to the potential of fashion films, and what do you think their ‘role’ is, if any?
Because it’s there! It’s big swimming pool of promotional space to occupy. That’s not to say it doesn’t have a place in film, it certainly does. I’d say it’s a link that’s been brewing for a long time, SHOWStudio have obviously played the biggest role in that bridging. People also like to invest in a story. But mainly it gives people like me and Karl Lagerfeld something to do.

En Pointe from Marnie Hollande on Vimeo.

What (from fashion designers to film makers) inspires you, or is one of your key influences?
It changes daily unfortunately and I blame the blogging industry. In terms of film I had an amazing piano teacher who stressed the importance of rhythm like nobody’s business, to the point whereby everything you see and make has to be broken down and calculated in terms of its pace and rhythmic weight. I like directors and films that look like they’ve thought about that a bit. As for fashion, I’m not consistent; I just like clothes that talk about something bigger than clothes. I think Ziad, McQueen and Leigh Bowery have/had that covered.

What advice would you have for budding fashion film makers?
Make them; it’s very simple. Although I stole that from a very clever friend!

To see more of Marnie’s videos, visit her Vimeo page.
In the run up to London Fashion Week, we’ll be catching up with Ziad Ghanem. Keep an eye out!

Field Day is basically everything that I want from a music festival; the line-up was so well crafted that its definitely – in my book – the top festival for music of the moment.

The first band we caught was Memory Tapes, who played a perfectly lovely set and sounded great, but not good enough to keep me there for the entirety of it. With Memory Tapes it feels like you’ve seen it all after a few tracks, and at Field Day there were so many incredible bands on that often you can’t catch whole sets. It’s an exhausting one day event, with people running around Victoria Park like eight-year-olds on sugar highs, trying to see as much as possible.

We were lured away from Memory Tapes by the promise of a Mount Kimbie set. They played the Bloggers Delight tent; to a crowd so big it spilled out and was about five people deep. That turned out to be a recurring theme when it came to the Bloggers Delight tent. We couldn’t hear much because we were stuck in the middle of the sound clash between two tents, so we moved on.

Steve Mason played the main stage and I was really impressed with the set. Not being a fan of his solo stuff or The Beta Band, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the middle-aged guy dressed in sportswear. The outcome was a gripping set – in fact the only one of two sets I saw in its completion, and won me over as a genuine fan.

Last time I saw Lightspeed Champion, it felt like something was missing from the set, but that wasn’t a problem this time. Wearing some questionably short shorts, Dev and his band rattled through a set consisting of mainly new tracks without disappointment. Field Day, or so I learnt, is the only festival where some nut job is likely to run Dev and his friend into you. Some people are such big fans that they can’t help but run at him, swing him around and then bolt off as the shame of the display slowly sets in.

After much pleading from a friend, we went to check out Joker and Mc Nomad. I was promised it’d be good and it was my surprise set of the festival. The format of a DJ with a couple of guys MCing over dubstep worked perfectly and, unlike the other kinds of music at the fest, was still a relatively unexposed sound. Of everyone I saw, I recommend checking out Joker above all others.

Then it was time for Hudson Mohawke, who I was desperately excited to watch. Hudson Mohawke played the Bloggers Delight tent and, of course, there was no space. It was a massive disappointment not to be able to see, but being short I’m mostly used to it. Not being able to hear properly was even more disappointing and we gave up after a couple of songs.

Hypnotic Brass Ensemble were the band that the majority of my friends wanted to see, so we had a little chill laying in the sunshine and having a listen. It was interesting for a couple of songs, but I didn’t like it. I got bored after a few songs, but everyone else around me seemed to love it. It was a welcome rest after a hectic afternoon of running around, but they didn’t win me over.

Also playing the main stage were Caribou – the second full set I caught and my absolute highlight. They were beautiful live. I find sometimes when instrumental songs are played live, if the band hasn’t got my attention, my mind starts to wander. Not with Caribou. They had the crowd gripped from the moment the band walked onto the stage, kept their attention throughout the set and performed flawlessly.

Chapel Club closed the Adventures in the Beetroot Field stage and were an interesting choice, considering that they were the darkest band of the day. I loved their set, but sadly I was one of barely 200 people watching. Everyone else, it seems, had flocked to the main stage to see Phoenix. It was a shame, because they were so refreshingly different to everyone else who played that day, but I guess it’s pretty impossible to compete against one of 2010’s biggest bands.

The only thing about Field Day that I wasn’t in love with, was the bar prices. Pretty costly for a one day event, the bar added 10p on to every can sold. I assume it was to encourage recycling, but what it seemed to result in was a few people walking around with bin bags, scooping up as many cans as they could in order to get a cheaper beer. Very strange indeed.

With a flawless line up, a pretty chilled crowd and some fun games held throughout the day, it was perhaps the most fun I’ve squeezed into 12 hours all summer and without fail the first festival I’ll be buying tickets for next year.

All photographs by Anh Ho.