Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week A/W 2010 Catwalk Review: Eley Kishimoto

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Amelia’s Magazine loves print, there illustrations and innovative design, try so you can imagine – for us – walking into Eley Kishimoto’s presentation titled Pattern Lab was like stumbling into a sweet shop. A sweet shop full of bold printed clothes. The always friendly Laura from Relative Mo explained the concept behind the lab by first showing us the presentation rails downstairs, nurse complete with an exquisitely illustrated slide show.

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After carefully examining (holding back from excitedly rummaging) the varity of prints, my fellow Amelia’s Collaborator Matt Bramford and I returned upstairs to hear the story behind the Pattern Lab, and it’s four wooden drums positioned down the centre of the store. Laura described the development from question mark, square, circle and stripe into the intricate patterns found on the collection downstairs.

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This beautiful presentation came complete with an exercise book detailing the idea of experimenting whilst researching the history and function of patterns. The question mark mutating into the squirrels tail was a particular favourite.

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With Eley Kishimoto, the world is definitely a prettier place. As seen by this jumper:

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And these shoes!

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Illustrations courtesy of Gemma Milly

The pop up shop is on for the reminder of the week, do not miss your chance to see great design up close.

Categories ,Eley Kishimoto, ,lfw, ,London Fashion Week 2010, ,Matt Bramford, ,Pattern Lab, ,Patterns, ,Relative Mo

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week Autumn/ Winter 2010 Catwalk Review: Ashish

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Noodles the chihuahua, abortion travelling around in a pouch.
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, story and I got stopped and pulled back after I had already been waved through by the PR by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, buy more about because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Once inside the large tents with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, stuff crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I myself have loved good old Bora Aksu for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, generic and I got stopped and pulled back after I had already been waved through by the PR by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, this site because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large tents with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, this site crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I myself have loved good old Bora Aksu for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, ask and I got stopped and pulled back after I had already been waved through by the PR by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, for sale because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large tents with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, decease crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I myself have loved good old Bora Aksu for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu kangaroo pouch dress by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been a few rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, ed and I got stopped and pulled back (after I had already been waved through by the PR) by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, medications because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large black-lined tent with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, clinic crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I’ve loved up good old Bora Aksu in Amelia’s Magazine for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu kangaroo pouch dress by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been a few rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, look and I got stopped and pulled back (after I had already been waved through by the PR) by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, here because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large black-lined tent with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, tadalafil crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I’ve loved up good old Bora Aksu in Amelia’s Magazine for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu kangaroo pouch dress by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been a few rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, drug and I got stopped and pulled back (after I had already been waved through by the PR) by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, cure because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large black-lined tent with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I’ve loved up good old Bora Aksu in Amelia’s Magazine for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu kangaroo pouch dress by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been a few rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, order and I got stopped and pulled back (after I had already been waved through by the PR) by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, troche because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large black-lined tent with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, prescription crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I’ve loved up good old Bora Aksu in Amelia’s Magazine for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu kangaroo pouch dress by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been a few rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, sildenafil and I got stopped and pulled back (after I had already been waved through by the PR) by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, seek because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large black-lined tent with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I’ve loved up good old Bora Aksu in Amelia’s Magazine for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu kangaroo pouch dress by Gemma Milly

This season I think it’s fair to say that there have been a few rather more overenthusiastic security staff at London Fashion Week than I have encountered in previous years. Bora Aksu was my first show in the main BFC tent in the courtyard at Somerset House on Friday, order and I got stopped and pulled back (after I had already been waved through by the PR) by one particularly bulky man surely more used to patrolling the less salubrious nightclubs of the east end. My crime? Holding two tickets instead of one. But only one with a special little star on it. I think the poor man may not have had too many braincells, because last time I checked I was not a conjoined twin.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

Once inside the large black-lined tent with a lit up runway I was forced to stand in the stairwell, crushed against the barricade as people continued to squeeze past me. I had always predicted that this would be the hot ticket of the day; I’ve loved up good old Bora Aksu in Amelia’s Magazine for a long time. Ah, how I do love to be proved right.

Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly
Bora Aksu by Gemma Milly

There was nothing overtly flashy about the staging of this show but the whole collection was spectacularly strong, every outfit consistently gorgeous and clever. Bodycon tight tailoring was offset against diaphanous protrusions and alien-esque circuitry stitched details in a subtle colour range of peach, lilac and greys. For the more obvious evening wear options there were black lame versions towards the end; everything worn with shredded leggings, a stylistic touch that was popular in many shows I saw. Bulbous tulip shaped skirts called to mind the early series of Blackadder (yes, I admit that my cultural references are somewhat warped) and my personal favourite featured a kangaroo-esque pouched front, possibly large enough to carry a chihuahua in, if you’re that way inclined. (Disclaimer: I think I may have been subconsciously influenced by this incredibly cute sight at another show. I am coming around to the idea of dogs that look like gremlins. So long as they don’t make a noise.) Oh Bora, you did not disappoint.

Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.
Noodles the chihuahua, travelling around in a pouch.

Ashish’s signature sequins opened the autumn/winter 2010 show, viagra dosage and were a fixture throughout the entire collection.

ashish - lfw2010 - jenny robins
Illustration courtesy of Jenny Robins

Now, buy more about Ashish has become a pro at demonstrating the endless possibilities of sequined attire. He can do jumpsuits in tribal prints, tops emblazoned with rabbits and leggings in graphic patterns. In this collection there were striped sequin pyjama suits in lemon yellow and pastel blue, as well as long-sleeved tops that combined sequins and knitwear with exaggerated stitching giving the garments a Frankenstein-aspect.

ashish1

It is a testimony to the designer’s skill that the collection didn’t become formulaic; indeed, Ashish managed to combine sequins into laidback, casually cool looks in a way unseen before (apart from in his previous collections). A great example of this was the checkerboard-print sequined blouse in candyfloss pink and lemon, tucked into high-waisted wool shorts.

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Ashish was really top of his game when sequins were the focal point of the outfit; as seen in the closing dress entirely made of sequins, which featured peaked padded shoulders and a nipped in waist. But it wasn’t all glitz. Indeed, the overall feel for the collection was decidedly grungy. Ashish partnered his sequined pieces with bobbled, woollen cardigans and sweaters, wide-leg, high-waisted tweed shorts and trousers, as well as belted wool coats. In the press lounge after the show, everyone agreed that the best thing about the show was its accessibility. These are pieces you could easily integrate into your wardrobe; the sequined skirt, the socks, the fingerless gloves.

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The styling was impeccable, giving the impression of an art student with a limitless bank account running amuck in the East End. There were oxford boots, ribbed socks, beanies and sunglasses accessorised with ironically bad hair-dye jobs in pink and blue, giving the show a punky aesthetic. Now Ashish has mastered all kinds of sequined pieces with playful motifs and jazzy patterns, it will be exciting to see how he evolves next season and whether he will remain the Sultan of Sequins.

Categories ,Ashish, ,Becky Cope, ,lfw, ,Sultan of Sequins

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week A/W 2010 Catwalk Review: Paul Costelloe

 paul costello2 - lfw2010 - jenny robins

Illustrations courtesy Jenny Robins, photos courtesy Catwalking.com.

Mr Costelloe nearly kicked off a fashion feud this weekend when he slagged off celebrity designers: “I object to celebrities sticking their toe in and stepping out again, like Victoria Beckham, Sienna Miller’s sister – they’ll be here for a couple of seasons and then they’re off and we’re still hanging around.”

Sienna Miller cooled the fire by simply sounding a little down about the negativity, as befits her easy-going image: “We never intended to set ourselves up against Christopher Bailey. That would be ridiculous. I don’t claim to be a designer, and I think people were misinterpreting our intentions.”

 paul costello - lfw2010 - jenny robins

Microdrama aside, it’s easy to see why a veteran like Costelloe would be feeling a little snide about easy-come-easy-go labels. He’s been patiently going first at LFW for six years, and his collections are the sort of timeless, self-confident clothes that often fly under the radar of a public more interested in trends than quality.

 costelloe 3

But there’s shininess aplenty in the new collection, and pencils were sharpened and iPhones at the ready as the models stomped out, in gold, devoré velvet and finally silver. Yes – velvet. I was primed for any sign of the fabric of childhood party frocks, with which the catwalks of New York were awash, and straight out of the blocks there was lovely patterned velvet on swishy lampshade skirts.

 costelloe 1

There were also ra-ra skirted dresses that were fun but somewhat random when mixed in with the tailored suits, all in the same check or shimmery black. The menswear was hilarious – handsomely hirsute gentlemen were done up to look like the BBC version of Robin Hood, and it was very nice.

 costelloe 2

The hair on the girls was the now-ubiquitous schoolmarm style, a frizzed updo. Other popular motifs included skintight over-the-knee boots and if at times the looks seemed a little bit too accessible (one dress looked a bit Miss Selfridge from my admittedly rather distant viewpoint) it was all done with panache and seemed to be well-received.

 costelloe 4

A highlight of getting up in time for the Paul Costelloe show was discovering oneself in the middle of the action upon exiting the venue. Sarah Brown unexpectedly appeared to officially open the week, wearing butterfly-printed blue Erdem. I took a sneaky picture of her while standing in the press room afterwards, which went straight up on Twitter. Felt a bit bad about that but at least she looks quite hot from the back.

sarah brown

Madame Brown gave a lovely speech, name-checking McQueen and stating her support for the British fashion industry. Well, it beats showing support for the British ham industry, fine upstanding bunch though I’m sure they are.



Categories ,lfw, ,Paul Costelloe, ,Sienna Miller, ,Somerset House

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week Autumn/ Winter 2010 Catwalk Review: Doii

Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Jamie Shovlin  Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Moral turpitude is quite a fantastic term. According to wikipedia, physician visit web it’s an act of baseness, search vileness or depravity in the private and social duties which a man owes to his fellowmen”
And it was under the grounds of ‘Moral Turpitude’ that artist Sebastian Horsley was unceremoniously denied access to the USA.
Despite failing in his duties as a fellowman, visit Horsley’s resume is impressive. Voluntarily crucifixion, pulling a loaded colt on a journalist, and of course, the requisitory opiate and prostitution dependencies.

Tonight, Horsley, amongst a myriad of others (Tracey Emin, Gavin Turk to name but a few) displays work at The Vegas Gallery’s ‘Peeping Tom’ group exhibit. The concept of the exhibition is focused on exploring the unseen, the private moments, which often bear no spectators.

stehliJemima Stehli Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Out of all the artists, I am curious to see what Horsley contributes to the exhibition, as his artwork is usually scandalous, sensationalist and well, brimming with all sorts of moral turpitude.
Inside The Vegas Gallery, the walls are a chessboard of artwork, with no descriptions or names around them; which in itself references the theme of the ‘Peeping Tom’; by the viewer and subject interacting anonomously, the sense of voyeurism is heightened.
Some are self-evident; Tracey Emin’s ‘Sobasex’ (My Cunt is Wet With Fear) is easily recognizable as a blueprint for the neon version hung beside the now infamous Tracey’s Bed.
And Sebastian Horsley’s work is easily disguisable, but not quite by the same standards.
“That’s appalling, how horribly vulgar!”
Says one patron, walking briskly away from a framed photograph, featuring Horsley quite graphically performing coitus on a quadruple amputee.
At first I don’t recognise that it’s an amputee; one might say it’s the carnal dance of limbs that confuse the image, but honestly, that’s not what the eye is drawn to.
It’s easy to find Sebastian Horsley in a crowd; his top hat is probably the same size as me. Intrigued to know more about the piece, I wrangle him away for a moment to discuss the piece.
“Well, it was taken in a brothel in Amsterdam.” He begins, surprisingly soft spoken and friendly for a “vile degenerate”
“The concept was about what beauty is…the body as sculpture. I thought about Ancient Greece and the Elgin Marbles, how originally they must have looked like any other statue, quite plain, then without limbs suddenly they evoke mystery and beauty. ”

The concept is interesting; I wonder if the aghast patrons are more concerned about the depiction of a sexual act, or whether that’s a façade for a deeper routed sense of disgust about having sex with a quadruple amputee. Discrimination against disability is still insidious, and commonplace. By placing the spectator into a position where they are forced to confront the image in such a visceral way, perhaps Horsley is in fact making the viewer confront their own prejudices; a true ‘peeping tom’ insight into their own bigotry…
Or perhaps he’s just a narcissistic pervert who likes banging prostitutes. Art is in the eye of the beholder I suppose.

eob_peeping_tom1Emer O’Brien Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

For those who aren’t overtly into the obscene, Peeping Tom displays many other artworks that don’t cause regurgitation.
I really liked Emer O’Brien’s white horse, which is a simple photograph, beautifully shot and almost looks like a painting. Also, white horses make me think of unicorns. Got to love a unicorn.

Jemima Stehli managed to speak to me for a few moments about her self portraits, aptly titled ‘Tit with Card 3’ which is pretty much what it sounds like.
“My inspiration behind it, was turning the body into separate sculpture by separating it with card, and presenting it to the world.”

In total, I’d advise to set a few hours aside to browse around The Vegas Gallery. With such a rich and varied supply of artwork, from the sublime to the obscure, there’s definitely an aspect for everyone to enjoy.

Vegas Gallery
45 Vyner Street
E2 9DQ
London
+44 (0)2030225850

http://www.vegasgallery.co.uk

Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Jamie Shovlin  Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Moral turpitude is quite a fantastic term. According to wikipedia, drugs it’s an act of baseness, order vileness or depravity in the private and social duties which a man owes to his fellowmen”
And it was under the grounds of ‘Moral Turpitude’ that artist Sebastian Horsley was unceremoniously denied access to the USA.
Despite failing in his duties as a fellowman, information pills Horsley’s resume is impressive. Voluntarily crucifixion, pulling a loaded colt on a journalist, and of course, the requisitory opiate and prostitution dependencies.

Tonight, Horsley, amongst a myriad of others (Tracey Emin, Gavin Turk to name but a few) displays work at The Vegas Gallery’s ‘Peeping Tom’ group exhibit. The concept of the exhibition is focused on exploring the unseen, the private moments, which often bear no spectators.

stehliJemima Stehli Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Out of all the artists, I am curious to see what Horsley contributes to the exhibition, as his artwork is usually scandalous, sensationalist and well, brimming with all sorts of moral turpitude.
Inside The Vegas Gallery, the walls are a chessboard of artwork, with no descriptions or names around them; which in itself references the theme of the ‘Peeping Tom’; by the viewer and subject interacting anonomously, the sense of voyeurism is heightened.
Some are self-evident; Tracey Emin’s ‘Sobasex’ (My Cunt is Wet With Fear) is easily recognizable as a blueprint for the neon version hung beside the now infamous Tracey’s Bed.
And Sebastian Horsley’s work is easily disguisable, but not quite by the same standards.
“That’s appalling, how horribly vulgar!”
Says one patron, walking briskly away from a framed photograph, featuring Horsley quite graphically performing coitus on a quadruple amputee.
At first I don’t recognise that it’s an amputee; one might say it’s the carnal dance of limbs that confuse the image, but honestly, that’s not what the eye is drawn to.
It’s easy to find Sebastian Horsley in a crowd; his top hat is probably the same size as me. Intrigued to know more about the piece, I wrangle him away for a moment to discuss the piece.
“Well, it was taken in a brothel in Amsterdam.” He begins, surprisingly soft spoken and friendly for a “vile degenerate”
“The concept was about what beauty is…the body as sculpture. I thought about Ancient Greece and the Elgin Marbles, how originally they must have looked like any other statue, quite plain, then without limbs suddenly they evoke mystery and beauty. ”

The concept is interesting; I wonder if the aghast patrons are more concerned about the depiction of a sexual act, or whether that’s a façade for a deeper routed sense of disgust about having sex with a quadruple amputee. Discrimination against disability is still insidious, and commonplace. By placing the spectator into a position where they are forced to confront the image in such a visceral way, perhaps Horsley is in fact making the viewer confront their own prejudices; a true ‘peeping tom’ insight into their own bigotry…
Or perhaps he’s just a narcissistic pervert who likes banging prostitutes. Art is in the eye of the beholder I suppose.

eob_peeping_tom1Emer O’Brien Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

For those who aren’t overtly into the obscene, Peeping Tom displays many other artworks that don’t cause regurgitation.
I really liked Emer O’Brien’s white horse, which is a simple photograph, beautifully shot and almost looks like a painting. Also, white horses make me think of unicorns. Got to love a unicorn.

Jemima Stehli managed to speak to me for a few moments about her self portraits, aptly titled ‘Tit with Card 3’ which is pretty much what it sounds like.
“My inspiration behind it, was turning the body into separate sculpture by separating it with card, and presenting it to the world.”

In total, I’d advise to set a few hours aside to browse around The Vegas Gallery. With such a rich and varied supply of artwork, from the sublime to the obscure, there’s definitely an aspect for everyone to enjoy.

Vegas Gallery
45 Vyner Street
E2 9DQ
London
+44 (0)2030225850

http://www.vegasgallery.co.uk

Picture by Gareth Jones
CINEMA audiences were invited to pedal their way to the final credits of a series of short films.
The pedal-powered screening system was in place at Liverpool’s FACT on Saturday.
Cyclists were informed how much power they were generating – and if they were not pedalling hard enough, sildenafil the film switched off.
see story ldpe synd aug 3
life_is_sweet_nice_to_meet_you

I’m a big fan of Dev Hynes’ hair. The singer-songwriter, information pills operating under the moniker Lightspeed Champion since going solo after the dissolution of the group Test Icicles, information pills has the most incredible piece of follicular engineering balanced upon his bonce – a dense mass of pitch-black hair that resembles some kind of alien being, engrossed in a symbiotic relationship with his host. The hairspray that must go into maintaining that every morning, my lord…

The thing that really sells it, though, is that in every official photo Hynes looks extremely pensive, as if he’s a ‘serious’ singer-songwriter with songs about relationships and heartbreak and politics and stuff that’s important and so on. That hair, though… it swats all those silly notions right away. He’s definitely a chap with a sense of humour – look no further than songs like ‘Everyone I Know Is Listening To Crunk’ off his debut LP Falling Off The Lavender Bridge for evidence of that (and I did mention that he was in a band called Test Icicles, right?). For his latest release he’s back with a greater sense of eclecticism, perhaps a slight tendency towards sombreness, but still retaining a distinctive and unique style. Gone are the country and folk leanings of the debut, and in their place come generous lashings of chamber pop, surf rock, and glam camp.

Opener ‘Dead Head Blues’ begins as a sedate number, reminiscent of the kind of nu-folk practised by fellow Londoner Emmy the Great – the kick comes at around the 2:00 minute mark with a Sunset Rubdown-like shredding riff of a solo that’s as striking as it is unexpected. From then on this kind of unexpected turn defines LIS!NTMY . Straightforward indie pop number ‘Marlene’ repeats the trick with an even more extreme midway solo, which then segues into the chanting balladry of ‘I Miss You’; ‘The Big Guns of Highsmith’ has harmonies that bring to mind some of Queen’s wackier back catalogue, but it sits on the same album as live favourite ‘Madame van Damme’ and its strange blend of musical narrative and Hawaiian surf pop, which is in turn followed in due course by the cowboy western stomp of ‘Sweetheart’.

The overall style is clearly ‘Lightspeed Champion’, even if each song can have its own influences picked out with ease – the wry self-acknowledgement, the intellectual curiosity and the lyrical unsettledness that you would expect to come with such a carefully constructed tapestry is very much present. As he bemoans that it, “hurts to be the one that’s always feeling sad,” his backing singers chant back, in unison, “oh, just stop complaining,” like the chorus in a West End musical ticking off the hero for giving up hope too early. Hell, he even sings, “oh, my big head,” on ‘Dead Head Blues’, managing to simultaneously tick himself off for questionable hair (as some would, I suppose, argue) and questionable decisions in love.

lightspeed-champion

This lyrical trick grows tiresome quickly, however. Despite the clever little quirks, and as much as Hynes tries not by being self-deprecating, he comes across as attempting to appear cleverer than he really is – he’ll reference geometry and Pythagoras, Socrates and classical composers. At times it’s like a parody of Morrissey’s more embarrassing moments, and whilst Hynes may make it clear that it very much is parody with lines like, “kill me baby, oh, won’t you kill me,” it doesn’t necessarily make it any easier to love. Like a lot of pastiche and parody, the irony and the joking get in the way of the sincerity.

So despite the admirable production from Ben Allen (whose most notable work has been in the field of hip-hop, and on the increasingly canonised Merriweather Post Pavilion), despite the Chopin influence in the string sections, despite the stabs at orchestral grandeur that occasionally pop up, LIS!NTMY feels like a pale imitator of modern classics like Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois. Perhaps next time he’ll manage to fully synthesise all these varying influences and achieve a work more whole and more loveable.

life_is_sweet_nice_to_meet_you

I’m a big fan of Dev Hynes’ hair. The singer-songwriter, what is ed operating under the moniker Lightspeed Champion since going solo after the dissolution of the group Test Icicles, ambulance has the most incredible piece of follicular engineering balanced upon his bonce – a dense mass of pitch-black hair that resembles some kind of alien being, remedy engrossed in a symbiotic relationship with his host. The hairspray that must go into maintaining that every morning, my lord…

The thing that really sells it, though, is that in every official photo Hynes looks extremely pensive, as if he’s a ‘serious’ singer-songwriter with songs about relationships and heartbreak and politics and stuff that’s important and so on. That hair, though… it swats all those silly notions right away. He’s definitely a chap with a sense of humour – look no further than songs like ‘Everyone I Know Is Listening To Crunk’ off his debut LP Falling Off The Lavender Bridge for evidence of that (and I did mention that he was in a band called Test Icicles, right?). For his latest release he’s back with a greater sense of eclecticism, perhaps a slight tendency towards sombreness, but still retaining a distinctive and unique style. Gone are the country and folk leanings of the debut, and in their place come generous lashings of chamber pop, surf rock, and glam camp.

Opener ‘Dead Head Blues’ begins as a sedate number, reminiscent of the kind of nu-folk practised by fellow Londoner Emmy the Great – the kick comes at around the 2:00 minute mark with a Sunset Rubdown-like shredding riff of a solo that’s as striking as it is unexpected. From then on this kind of unexpected turn defines LIS!NTMY . Straightforward indie pop number ‘Marlene’ repeats the trick with an even more extreme midway solo, which then segues into the chanting balladry of ‘I Miss You’; ‘The Big Guns of Highsmith’ has harmonies that bring to mind some of Queen’s wackier back catalogue, but it sits on the same album as live favourite ‘Madame van Damme’ and its strange blend of musical narrative and Hawaiian surf pop, which is in turn followed in due course by the cowboy western stomp of ‘Sweetheart’.

The overall style is clearly ‘Lightspeed Champion’, even if each song can have its own influences picked out with ease – the wry self-acknowledgement, the intellectual curiosity and the lyrical unsettledness that you would expect to come with such a carefully constructed tapestry is very much present. As he bemoans that it, “hurts to be the one that’s always feeling sad,” his backing singers chant back, in unison, “oh, just stop complaining,” like the chorus in a West End musical ticking off the hero for giving up hope too early. Hell, he even sings, “oh, my big head,” on ‘Dead Head Blues’, managing to simultaneously tick himself off for questionable hair (as some would, I suppose, argue) and questionable decisions in love.

lightspeed-champion

This lyrical trick grows tiresome quickly, however. Despite the clever little quirks, and as much as Hynes tries not by being self-deprecating, he comes across as attempting to appear cleverer than he really is – he’ll reference geometry and Pythagoras, Socrates and classical composers. At times it’s like a parody of Morrissey’s more embarrassing moments, and whilst Hynes may make it clear that it very much is parody with lines like, “kill me baby, oh, won’t you kill me,” it doesn’t necessarily make it any easier to love. Like a lot of pastiche and parody, the irony and the joking get in the way of the sincerity.

So despite the admirable production from Ben Allen (whose most notable work has been in the field of hip-hop, and on the increasingly canonised Merriweather Post Pavilion), despite the Chopin influence in the string sections, despite the stabs at orchestral grandeur that occasionally pop up, LIS!NTMY feels like a pale imitator of modern classics like Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois. Perhaps next time he’ll manage to fully synthesise all these varying influences and achieve a work more whole and more loveable.

Diamante2

Illustrations by Zoe Barker

Sustainable Fashion, sildenafil what does that mean? This was the question posed by Vanessa Friedman at the beginning of London Fashion Week’s Estethica guide. I approached LFW with a fair amount of scepticism. Despite wearing my UK Press Pass with the secret pride reserved for a total LFW novice like moi, bien sûr, and being in total awe of how much work our fashion ed Rachael, all the writers, photographers and illustrators had put into it all, I was hesitant.

Handle_with_care

Is fashion that great? One part of me thinks it’s essential to be constantly re-inventing and changing things, challenging what we take as a given and celebrating new creativity. And that fashion is another form of individual and social expression and even a tool for rebellion against restrictive archaic norms. But another part thinks that the fashion industry is responsible for an attitude that waste is OK as long as it provides a fleeting moment of self-centred happiness, and that we need to be constantly re-inventing the way we look. That fashion stands for endless buying, and the sanctioning of a kind of mass egomania. Alternatively, it means the production of things that are so well made they will last forever, but which are destined for an elite few whose monthly wages allow for it. So should this kind of thinking now be greened and made sustainable? Hmm…it doesn’t really appeal. And, while it admittedly takes a very narrow view of fashion, I loved Tanya Gold’s blunt, honest piece on ‘Why I Hate Fashion’ in The Guardian a few weeks ago. It does raise the question though: what does fashion, let alone sustainable fashion, even mean?

The concept of eco-fashion has always grated a bit, probably because my purse-strings don’t stretch so far (and of course never will do if I try to pursue writing as a career), but also because, at the upmarket end, it smacks of elitism and the opportunity to not only redeem yourself, but to then preach to others about how fantastic it makes you feel. Oh great, we can still carry on buying loads of expensive crap, because now it’s ‘organic’. Dear 90% of the planet, don’t worry! We will save you with our brand new ethical consumer habits! One fabulous certified organic fair-trade handbag at a time. It’s a typical voting with our credit cards kind of scenario, and it leaves those that can’t or don’t want to buy into the consumer ‘revolution’ (i.e. the vast majority of human beings on the planet) somewhat disenfranchised.

Make_do

Once upon a time I used to make and wear almost all my own clothes. Charity shops on the high street near my school were my Topshop. My thinking was, I can spend a fiver and get lots of unexpected random things from the clearance rail of a charity shop, have some fun cutting it up and sewing it back together, and wear it with pride even if it’s falling apart, or spend £30 (which represented a whole day’s work in my Saturday job) in Topshop on something made in a sweatshop and that there are 20 identical versions of on the rail. A battered old Singer sewing machine helped me to produce most of my 6th form wardrobe, and, admittedly, a trail of fashion disasters whose only purpose became household rags.

I loved sitting at my sewing machine, attacking things with scissors, making bags out of skirts, skirts out of dresses, dresses out of huge shirts, going to the bargain haberdashery stalls at markets and hunting out what I needed that week. None of my creations were planned or measured, so it was hardly difficult! My sister and I put on a crazy fashion show at school which consisted of t-shirts with massive holes, paint splodges, mini skirts made of tracksuit bottoms, dresses made of old saris, ripped tights, and asked our friends, our catwalk models, to just dance to The Hives album we decided would be the full volume soundtrack to our show.

Our music teacher loved it, but I think the rest of the Senior Management Team would have preferred something a little more conservative. Only recently have I discovered that what I was doing could technically have been called upcycling, and that an increasing amount of designers are turning to it, with much greater skill and expertise than I had when I was 16, clearly. There were a few designers using upcycling that I really liked in the Estethica rooms. Notably Goodone who collaborate with Heba Women’s Project, and Lu Flux. Kudos also to Izzy Lane with their beautiful wares and their strong animal welfare message (they use wool from sheep that have been saved from slaughter), extending our concept of equality beyond the human realm.

Britain generates 1 million tonnes of textile landfill every year. Textile recycling companies like LMB in London and I and J Cohen in Manchester collect between 170 and 200 tonnes of unwanted clothes and materials each week! Humans have been ‘upcycling’ since the beginning of time, making do with what’s there and improving it if need be. But it’s only recently that we have the opportunity and need to deal with quite such vast mountains of junk. So having it officially adopted as a fashion movement is a no-brainer, really. Companies will soon be jumping on the bandwagon left right and centre trying to prove that they have included a scrap of reclaimed materials in their collections.

This is why it is important, in my opinion, to remember that this should be an opportunity to move away from normal fashion consumption. One of the reasons I like upcycling is that it means we can be involved in the evolution and life cycle of an object rather than just being consumers of it. The designer also gains a much broader significance. This should definitely be an opportunity to get more people interested and able to partake in the production of clothes, rather than purely their ‘consumption.’

Upcycling, on a small scale, isn’t an expensive venture. Hopefully more people will be inspired to stop looking at products as a finished thing that can be bought, used, then thrown away, whether by DIYing and attending workshops, or supporting designers for whom upcycling and recycling is a central issue. Upcycled fashion is ecologically and socially conscious without being righteous or moralistic. It challenges our perception of waste and shows how it can be transformed into something beautiful and useful. It is a way to reclaim ‘fashion’, rethink our notion of eco-fashion, and bring ecology into yet more creative hands, rather than leaving it as an issue to debate over while scientists, politicians and lobbyists bicker it out to infinity. We don’t have to go far to find these ecological textiles, they are in recycling centres, charity shops, and our wardrobes and cost next to nothing. And second hand sewing machines aren’t hard to find either. For now though, I leave fashion writing well and truly to the pros. 
Diamante2

Illustrations by Zoe Barker

Sustainable Fashion, mind what does that mean? This was the question posed by Vanessa Friedman at the beginning of London Fashion Week’s Estethica guide. I approached LFW with a fair amount of scepticism. Despite wearing my UK Press Pass with the secret pride reserved for a total LFW novice like moi, ambulance bien sûr, and being in total awe of how much work our fashion ed Rachael, all the writers, photographers and illustrators had put into it all, I was hesitant.

Handle_with_care

Is fashion that great? One part of me thinks it’s essential to be constantly re-inventing and changing things, challenging what we take as a given and celebrating new creativity. And that fashion is another form of individual and social expression and even a tool for rebellion against restrictive archaic norms. But another part thinks that the fashion industry is responsible for an attitude that waste is OK as long as it provides a fleeting moment of self-centred happiness, and that we need to be constantly re-inventing the way we look. That fashion stands for endless buying, and the sanctioning of a kind of mass egomania. Alternatively, it means the production of things that are so well made they will last forever, but which are destined for an elite few whose monthly wages allow for it. So should this kind of thinking now be greened and made sustainable? Hmm…it doesn’t really appeal. And, while it admittedly takes a very narrow view of fashion, I loved Tanya Gold’s blunt, honest piece on ‘Why I Hate Fashion’ in The Guardian a few weeks ago. It does raise the question though: what does fashion, let alone sustainable fashion, even mean?

The concept of eco-fashion has always grated a bit, probably because my purse-strings don’t stretch so far (and of course never will do if I try to pursue writing as a career), but also because, at the upmarket end, it smacks of elitism and the opportunity to not only redeem yourself, but to then preach to others about how fantastic it makes you feel. Oh great, we can still carry on buying loads of expensive crap, because now it’s ‘organic’. Dear 90% of the planet, don’t worry! We will save you with our brand new ethical consumer habits! One fabulous certified organic fair-trade handbag at a time. It’s a typical voting with our credit cards kind of scenario, and it leaves those that can’t or don’t want to buy into the consumer ‘revolution’ (i.e. the vast majority of human beings on the planet) somewhat disenfranchised.

Make_do

Once upon a time I used to make and wear almost all my own clothes. Charity shops on the high street near my school were my Topshop. My thinking was, I can spend a fiver and get lots of unexpected random things from the clearance rail of a charity shop, have some fun cutting it up and sewing it back together, and wear it with pride even if it’s falling apart, or spend £30 (which represented a whole day’s work in my Saturday job) in Topshop on something made in a sweatshop and that there are 20 identical versions of on the rail. A battered old Singer sewing machine helped me to produce most of my 6th form wardrobe, and, admittedly, a trail of fashion disasters whose only purpose became household rags.

I loved sitting at my sewing machine, attacking things with scissors, making bags out of skirts, skirts out of dresses, dresses out of huge shirts, going to the bargain haberdashery stalls at markets and hunting out what I needed that week. None of my creations were planned or measured, so it was hardly difficult! My sister and I put on a crazy fashion show at school which consisted of t-shirts with massive holes, paint splodges, mini skirts made of tracksuit bottoms, dresses made of old saris, ripped tights, and asked our friends, our catwalk models, to just dance to The Hives album we decided would be the full volume soundtrack to our show.

Our music teacher loved it, but I think the rest of the Senior Management Team would have preferred something a little more conservative. Only recently have I discovered that what I was doing could technically have been called upcycling, and that an increasing amount of designers are turning to it, with much greater skill and expertise than I had when I was 16, clearly. There were a few designers using upcycling that I really liked in the Estethica rooms. Notably Goodone who collaborate with Heba Women’s Project, and Lu Flux. Kudos also to Izzy Lane with their beautiful wares and their strong animal welfare message (they use wool from sheep that have been saved from slaughter), extending our concept of equality beyond the human realm.

Britain generates 1 million tonnes of textile landfill every year. Textile recycling companies like LMB in London and I and J Cohen in Manchester collect between 170 and 200 tonnes of unwanted clothes and materials each week! Humans have been ‘upcycling’ since the beginning of time, making do with what’s there and improving it if need be. But it’s only recently that we have the opportunity and need to deal with quite such vast mountains of junk. So having it officially adopted as a fashion movement is a no-brainer, really. Companies will soon be jumping on the bandwagon left right and centre trying to prove that they have included a scrap of reclaimed materials in their collections.

This is why it is important, in my opinion, to remember that this should be an opportunity to move away from normal fashion consumption. One of the reasons I like upcycling is that it means we can be involved in the evolution and life cycle of an object rather than just being consumers of it. The designer also gains a much broader significance. This should definitely be an opportunity to get more people interested and able to partake in the production of clothes, rather than purely their ‘consumption.’

Upcycling, on a small scale, isn’t an expensive venture. Hopefully more people will be inspired to stop looking at products as a finished thing that can be bought, used, then thrown away, whether by DIYing and attending workshops, or supporting designers for whom upcycling and recycling is a central issue. Upcycled fashion is ecologically and socially conscious without being righteous or moralistic. It challenges our perception of waste and shows how it can be transformed into something beautiful and useful. It is a way to reclaim ‘fashion’, rethink our notion of eco-fashion, and bring ecology into yet more creative hands, rather than leaving it as an issue to debate over while scientists, politicians and lobbyists bicker it out to infinity. We don’t have to go far to find these ecological textiles, they are in recycling centres, charity shops, and our wardrobes and cost next to nothing. And second hand sewing machines aren’t hard to find either. For now though, I leave fashion writing well and truly to the pros. 
doii - lfw2010 - jenny robinsIllustration courtesy of the magnificent Jenny Robins.

With big and bouncy curls galore, viagra 40mg the porcelain faced models floated down the catwalk in a beautiful array of floral dresses complete with metallic thread detailing and environmentally friendly faux-fur trims. With the flame haired model brought to life in the beautiful accompanying illustration by Jenny Robins, approved for me (and I think me alone) the theme of the show was Little Red Riding Hood, try and I envisaged all of the ethereal models parading through a forgotten forest. With floor sweeping maxi style dresses and lace numbers with oversized pleated skirts, this was one of the most unashamedly feminine and wearable collections I think I have ever seen.

P2212680Photography throughout courtesy of Rachael Oku.

Working multiple trends with great aplomb, there were cute as-a-button bubble hem dresses, floating bohemian offerings and not forgetting the oversized puff sleeves present in a Victoriana inspired black lace number. Reflecting the winter theme of the collection were thick furs and knee high fluffy boots, ideal for the snowy days we’re sure to experience this time next year.

P2212666

Founded in 2006 by Korean designer Doii Lee, the Doii Paris label is well known for its elegant and eye catching designs conceived in Paris and produced in Korea. With each piece created so limited edition that only a few will ever exist, this is the most couture ready-to-wear collection to be shown at this season’s LFW.

P2212686

With all garments made from the most luxury fabrics available I swooned over the painstakingly hand embroidered textiles and the delicate prints on the finest silk and lace in leopard spots and a bright and playful print that was evocative of a deck of playing cards – slightly jumbled.

P2212688

The detailing present throughout the collection was simply exquisite, with all garments bearing drawstrings embellished with the cutest heart shapes made from leather and figure enhancing belts bearing bright digital prints purposefully contrasting with their corresponding outfits.

P2212689

Each model wore patent leather Mary-Jane’s fastened with the cutest oversized bows, and when combined with the playing card print I had visions of a modern day Alice in Wonderland – look out Tim Burton!

P2212652

So magnificent was this show that I wish every show I saw was as magical, and if I could only make one show next season – move over the likes of Burberry and Vivienne Westwood – it would be Doii all the way!

Categories ,Alice in Wonderland, ,Burberry, ,Doii, ,Doii Lee, ,Doii Paris, ,Jenny Robins, ,lfw, ,Little Red Riding Hood, ,tim burton, ,Vivienne Westwood

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week A/W 2010 Catwalk Review: Ramon Gurillo and Bodyamr

Charles Anastase4

Watching the show, nurse seek something niggled, buy information pills what reference was missing – apart from the immediates being the 70’s and the French Revolution – there was something else, something that was coming through in the occasional bundled up model. I battered it aside, thinking no – these thoughts are from reading The Road recently, and it’s discriptions of the belegaured wrapped up souls have become stuck in one’s mind.

And then out walked the below outfit, framed by the soft bordering on romantic hair, taffata and block colours of the thick thick Anastase layers, was the only full face painted experience of the whole show. In the context of the aforementioned taffata it provided a disconcerting effect, summering images of the cults avoided in desperation along the desolated world in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

Charles Anastase 5

Not wanting to read too much into this, thinking the show contained enough references- from languid lazy glamour completed by Linda Farrow sunglasses to the idea that one might have preferred to have been born in France several years ago. The thought that this was another designer considering the apocalyptic nature of future was left dangling, as I unfortunately did not have access to a press release until The Telegraph posted on the show, answered my suspicions:

“Charles Anastase, made climate change the theme of his collection for next autumn/winter”.

Now I seriously doubt that in an actual apocalypse we would wear towering wedges whilst bound in constrictive felt, it is always interesting to see how designers portray thoughts and fears from outside of Fashion. Last season saw Bernard Chandran, James Long and Katie Eary presented two vesions of clothes to be worn in a dystopic future. Whilst harder than Anastase, a sense of fear of the unknown remains within all three collections.

Charles Anastase 1

Anastase’s was a short introduction into the designer’s current range of thoughts. It will be interesting to see what is presented at next season’s show. It was great to see a return to the sophistication that length and fabric can offe after what seems like endless seasons of thigh high body tight flesh exposing nothingness.

Charles Anastase2

Photographs by Elizabeth Johnson
Charles Anastase4

Watching the show, thumb something niggled, viagra order what reference was missing – apart from the immediates being the 70’s and the French Revolution – there was something else, something that was coming through in the occasional bundled up model. I battered it aside, thinking no – these thoughts are from reading The Road recently, and it’s discriptions of the belegaured wrapped up souls have become stuck in one’s mind.

And then out walked the below outfit, framed by the soft bordering on romantic hair, taffata and block colours of the thick thick Anastase layers, was the only full face painted experience of the whole show. In the context of the aforementioned taffata it provided a disconcerting effect, summering images of the cults avoided in desperation along the desolated world in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

Charles Anastase 5

Not wanting to read too much into this, thinking the show contained enough references- from languid lazy glamour completed by Linda Farrow sunglasses to the idea that one might have preferred to have been born in France several years ago. The thought that this was another designer considering the apocalyptic nature of future was left dangling, as I unfortunately did not have access to a press release until The Telegraph posted on the show, answered my suspicions:

“Charles Anastase, made climate change the theme of his collection for next autumn/winter”.

Now I seriously doubt that in an actual apocalypse we would wear towering wedges whilst bound in constrictive felt, it is always interesting to see how designers portray thoughts and fears from outside of Fashion. Last season saw Bernard Chandran, James Long and Katie Eary presented two vesions of clothes to be worn in a dystopic future. Whilst harder than Anastase, a sense of fear of the unknown remains within all three collections.

Charles Anastase 1

Anastase’s was a short introduction into the designer’s current range of thoughts. It will be interesting to see what is presented at next season’s show. It was great to see a return to the sophistication that length and fabric can offe after what seems like endless seasons of thigh high body tight flesh exposing nothingness.

Charles Anastase2

Photographs by Elizabeth Johnson
Charles Anastase4

Watching the show, this something niggled, stuff what reference was missing – apart from the immediates being the 70’s and the French Revolution – there was something else, something that was coming through in the occasional bundled up model. I battered it aside, thinking no – these thoughts are from reading The Road recently, and it’s discriptions of the belegaured wrapped up souls have become stuck in one’s mind.

And then out walked the below outfit, framed by the soft bordering on romantic hair, taffata and block colours of the thick thick Anastase layers, was the only full face painted experience of the whole show. In the context of the aforementioned taffata it provided a disconcerting effect, summering images of the cults avoided in desperation along the desolated world in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

Charles Anastase 5

Not wanting to read too much into this, thinking the show contained enough references- from languid lazy glamour completed by Linda Farrow sunglasses to the idea that one might have preferred to have been born in France several years ago. The thought that this was another designer considering the apocalyptic nature of future was left dangling, as I unfortunately did not have access to a press release until The Telegraph posted on the show, answered my suspicions:

“Charles Anastase, made climate change the theme of his collection for next autumn/winter”.

Now I seriously doubt that in an actual apocalypse we would wear towering wedges whilst bound in constrictive felt, it is always interesting to see how designers portray thoughts and fears from outside of Fashion. Last season saw Bernard Chandran, James Long and Katie Eary presented two vesions of clothes to be worn in a dystopic future. Whilst harder than Anastase, a sense of fear of the unknown remains within all three collections.

Charles Anastase 1

Anastase’s was a short introduction into the designer’s current range of thoughts. It will be interesting to see what is presented at next season’s show. It was great to see a return to the sophistication that length and fabric can offe after what seems like endless seasons of thigh high body tight flesh exposing nothingness.

Charles Anastase2

Photographs by Elizabeth Johnson
Charles Anastase4

Watching the show, viagra something niggled, pills what reference was missing – apart from the immediates being the 70’s and the French Revolution – there was something else, case something that was coming through in the occasional bundled up model. I battered it aside, thinking no – these thoughts are from reading The Road recently, and it’s discriptions of the belegaured wrapped up souls have become stuck in one’s mind.

And then out walked the below outfit, framed by the soft bordering on romantic hair, taffata and block colours of the thick thick Anastase layers, was the only full face painted experience of the whole show. In the context of the aforementioned taffata it provided a disconcerting effect, summering images of the cults avoided in desperation along the desolated world in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

Charles Anastase 5

Not wanting to read too much into this, thinking the show contained enough references- from languid lazy glamour completed by Linda Farrow sunglasses to the idea that one might have preferred to have been born in France several years ago. The thought that this was another designer considering the apocalyptic nature of future was left dangling, as I unfortunately did not have access to a press release until The Telegraph posted on the show, answered my suspicions:

“Charles Anastase, made climate change the theme of his collection for next autumn/winter”.

Now I seriously doubt that in an actual apocalypse we would wear towering wedges whilst bound in constrictive felt, it is always interesting to see how designers portray thoughts and fears from outside of Fashion. Last season saw Bernard Chandran, James Long and Katie Eary presented two vesions of clothes to be worn in a dystopic future. Whilst harder than Anastase, a sense of fear of the unknown remains within all three collections.

Charles Anastase 1

Anastase’s was a short introduction into the designer’s current range of thoughts. It will be interesting to see what is presented at next season’s show. It was great to see a return to the sophistication that length and fabric can offe after what seems like endless seasons of thigh high body tight flesh exposing nothingness.

Charles Anastase2

Photographs by Elizabeth Johnson
Charles Anastase4

Watching the show, discount something niggled, pharmacy what reference was missing – apart from the immediates being the 70’s and the French Revolution – there was something else, price something that was coming through in the occasional bundled up model. I battered it aside, thinking no – these thoughts are from reading The Road recently, and it’s discriptions of the belegaured wrapped up souls have become stuck in one’s mind.

And then out walked the below outfit, framed by the soft bordering on romantic hair, taffata and block colours of the thick thick Anastase layers, was the only full face painted experience of the whole show. In the context of the aforementioned taffata it provided a disconcerting effect, summering images of the cults avoided in desperation along the desolated world in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

Charles Anastase 5

Charles Anastase Autumn Winter 2010 was a busy show reference wise – from languid lazy glamour completed by Linda Farrow sunglasses to the idea that one might have preferred to have been born in France several years ago. The thought that another was designer considering the apocalyptic nature of future was left dangling. Until The Telegraph posted on the show, answering my suspicions:

“Charles Anastase, made climate change the theme of his collection for next autumn/winter”.

Now I seriously doubt that in an actual apocalypse we would wear towering wedges whilst bound in constrictive felt, however, it is always interesting to see how designers portray thoughts and fears from the News or mass media obsessions. Last season saw Bernard Chandran, James Long and Katie Eary present their visions of what clothes to be worn in a dystopic future. Whilst harder than Anastase, a sense of fear of the unknown remains within all four of these exploratory collections.

Charles Anastase 1

Anastase’s was a short introduction into the designer’s current range of thoughts and experimentations – from the aforementioned to the patterns that could only be described as 70′s carpet chic. It was at the same time, great to see a return to the potential sophistication offered by length and fabric after what feels like endless seasons of thigh high body tight flesh exposing nothingness. It will be interesting to see how these themes will be developed for next season’s show.

Charles Anastase2

Photographs by Elizabeth Johnson
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, ed and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, page rather than trying it on in the hope no one will move you. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I sing around the camp fire with friends.

I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well I was going to be quite rude about them, but then I met the PR who invited me, and read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. And then I met the PR again in the queue for a show the next day, and this time was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner. Aiee!! So I will be a little nicer.

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration and hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, tadalafil they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, buy more about and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, viagra 40mg rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!!) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration and hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, tadalafil they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, ailment and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, pharm rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I sing around the camp fire with friends.

I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well I was going to be quite rude about them, but then I met the PR who invited me, and read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. And then I met the PR again in the queue for a show the next day, and this time was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner. Aiee!! So I will be a little nicer.

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration and hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, store they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, information pills and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, approved rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I sing around the camp fire with friends.

I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well I was going to be quite rude about them, but then I met the PR who invited me, and read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. And then I met the PR again in the queue for a show the next day, and this time was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner. Aiee!! So I will be a little nicer.

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration and hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, viagra order they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, visit web and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, ailment rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!!) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration and hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, discount they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!! He’s a published poet and all! Quite a good one if the ditty he penned to accompany the show is anything to go by) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning rushing away from her castle on high. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell-shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration, making the collection entirely from sustainable fabrics such as hemp, bamboo, organic cotton and recycled materials. I hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, order they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, purchase and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!! He’s a published poet and all! Quite a good one if the ditty he penned to accompany the show is anything to go by) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning rushing away from her castle on high. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell-shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration, making the collection entirely from sustainable fabrics such as hemp, bamboo, organic cotton and recycled materials. I hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, more about they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, decease and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!! He’s a published poet and all! Quite a good one if the ditty he penned to accompany the show is anything to go by) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning rushing away from her castle on high. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell-shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration, making the collection entirely from sustainable fabrics such as hemp, bamboo, organic cotton and recycled materials. I very much hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, and they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, what is ed and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, ambulance rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!! He’s a published poet and all! Quite a good one if the ditty he penned to accompany the show is anything to go by) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning rushing away from her castle on high. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell-shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration, making the collection entirely from sustainable fabrics such as hemp, bamboo, organic cotton and recycled materials. I very much hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

We were shepherded into the one of the grand rooms at the Freemasons’ Hall by a blonde lady on a very high horse. In the atrium we were offered organic chocolates to nibble on (by Chocolala, tadalafil they were AMAZING) and plastic cups of wine. All of this before lunchtime! So far so very extravagant.

A pretty curlicued silver sticker on my Prophetik flyer boded well, viagra and I was duly ushered to the front row. Always nice to know you’re meant to be there, rather than trying to pull a fast one in the hope that no one will move you on. Whilst the show took forever to start, Matt and I dug around in the overflowing goodie bags, revealing a suit bag, an iphone amplifier dock, a sponsored notebook, organic toiletries and more chocolate, to name just a few items of ecojunk. Free frippery is to be expected at Fashion Week but I use the term ecojunk because of Prophetik’s “wearable philosophy” of promoting eco fashion. Of course any move towards sustainability is to be applauded, but then surely stick to recycled gifts? Or something more suited to said philosophy? Needless to say I took everything home anyway because that’s the way I’m programmed, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit guilty in doing so.

Eventually we heard the strains of a live violinist, who was soon joined by an acoustic guitarist, followed shortly after by an entire middle aged rock band, replete with bare chests and swinging medallions. Checking my show notes I’ve since discovered that this band included none other than members of Def Leppard and the Sex Pistols. Woah! Veering unexpectedly to a grinding holt, Massive Attack suddenly crashed onto the sound system. Then it was back to live rock, a bit of piped rave and finally the beautiful strains of the gospel song “I’ll fly away” – a refrain that I like to sing around the camp fire with friends. I expect this was all meant to segue seamlessly together but this was sadly not the case, and it says something that it’s the music that I am talking about first and not the clothes – overall it was an unsatisfactory and entirely unnecessary distraction.

Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte
Prophetik by Etiene Del Monte

The clothes? Well, I met the PR who invited me in the queue for a show on Saturday, and was introduced to the American designer Jeff Garner, (Aiee!! He’s a published poet and all! Quite a good one if the ditty he penned to accompany the show is anything to go by) and I’ve since read a bit more about Prophetik on their website, discovering that there is a touching ecological and communitarian philosophy behind the brand. So I will be considered in what I say…

I loved the way the show opened (music aside), with a girl whisking between the musicians in a black dress like a fair maiden in mourning rushing away from her castle on high. From then on jodphurs and military themed tailored pieces jostled alongside bulbous bell-shaped crinoline fairytale princess dresses (my favourite outfits) next to ill advised crushed velvet sweeping gowns – all worn by fair skinned ladies with blonde or red hair. There were a few bits of menswear thrown in for good measure and I found myself idly wondering how I ever used to find male models attractive (so young, so… nothingy. I must be getting old) – instead I was more interested in looking at the wiggy men in the fancy paintings on the walls. When I checked my twitter feed in a moment of boredom (sorry nice PR lady, sorry Mr. Designer man) I noted that everyone seemed inadversely excited by the thigh high boots. Is that a good sign? I suppose I just felt that the whole thing was a bit of a mishmash – with some interesting pieces that didn’t ever seem to add up to a strong whole collection. And the music really really didn’t help matters. At all. Got that?

However, I think it’s admirable that Prophetik are taking ecological ideals into consideration, making the collection entirely from sustainable fabrics such as hemp, bamboo, organic cotton and recycled materials. I very much hope to read up more on their philosophy at a point where I am not madly dashing around fashion week. In the meantime, I wish them all the best and hope I a) don’t run into them again at the shows or b) they’re happy to take on board a bit of constructive criticism. Please don’t kill me! And aren’t the illustrations by Etiene del Monte wonderful?

Ramon Gurillo by Katie Harnett
Ramon Gurillo by Katie Harnett

In this blog I’m going to kill two fashionable birds with one stone. Mainly because they were designers I’ve never heard of before and also because I didn’t go too crazy for them.

Over in Victoria House I bumped into ex intern Sarah Barnes at Ramon Gurillo: turns out that she’s interning now with Fashion156 (who you will remember that I met in the front row over at Charlie Le Mindu), here small world that it is. Apparently they’ve got money from the Fashion Council over yonder so it’s all straight reportage, page as quick as possible. NOT SO HERE FOLKS. You’ll hear my views exactly as they are, undiluted – some of the time – even by good common sense. And complete with rambling interludes aplenty. That’s just how we roll I’m afraid. Ain’t no one giving us money.

Ramon Gurillo by Katie Harnett
Ramon Gurillo by Katie Harnett

Ramon was all about the yarn and I found myself wondering (not for the first time it has to be said) if, finally, knitwear has come of age. Maybe I should resurrect my knitwear business after all. Yes, I designed a range of 80s influenced handknits made from mohair and vegetable dyed British rare sheep wool at about the same time as I launched Amelia’s Magazine, fact fans. It was called avb (a nickname from my parents). But I just couldn’t do both. Madness it was. In fact big bags of unused wool are at this very moment languishing in my parent’s attic, no doubt being decimated by moths as we speak.

Ramon had some very sexy metallic glittery lips but I’m afraid the same glamourous intent had not been applied to his collection – which was far too tasteful for me. I did very much like the bold concertina (metallic, again) necklaces. Sorry, back to the knitwear. There were lots of lacy knit tights and leggings (possibly belonging to the stylist) which I quite liked, although I have to say that at the rate I put holes in my own leggings choosing to buy ones with pre-made holes would seem foolhardy at best. The best piece was a wonderful holey sweater dress, and I liked all the dangly bulbous bits and ruched details that appeared on other items.

Ramon Gurillo by Katie Harnett
Ramon Gurillo by Katie Harnett

After the show Sarah and I went to the tiny press room in the On/Off building, where I proceeded to stylishly tip nuts all over the bottom of my bag and then all over the blow-up sofa whilst Sarah attempted to upload a hasty blog. When she failed to make an internet connection we headed off to the Bodyamr show over at the gorgeous Freemasons’ Hall. We were herded into yet another staggeringly beautiful hall – featuring heavily ornate ceilings and shuttered wooden divisions between two antechambers. I sat tapping my feet and wondering how likely it was that I would make it to the next show (Bora Aksu), as rumours began to circulate on twitter that Nicola Roberts of Girls Aloud was in the front row. Well, not where I was she weren’t, but she could have been the other side of the division. Dammit. I do find it ever so amusing that Nicola, once the most pitied and derided member of the band, is now the coolest fashionista of the lot. Oh how those tangerine days of yore must haunt her now!

Bodyamr by Saroj Patel
Bodyamr by Saroj Patel

In the end I decided to lurk at the back so I could make a hasty exit, and only got to see the first few looks of the Bodyamr collection. Usually enough to make a thorough and precise analysis of a show I find. The show was opened by a model of staggering non-beauty and I registered with amusement a few confused smirks in the front row opposite me. A very odd choice indeed. It was then straight into “sports luxe” of the type we’ve seen many times before. Looking back at the catwalk pictures of the outfits I missed my favourites were definitely the ruche print dresses. But then you can always win me over with a bit of splashy coloured print.

Fortunately I managed to make it over to Bora Aksu in time….

Categories ,80s, ,avb, ,Bodyamr, ,Bora Aksu, ,Charlie le Mindu, ,Fashion blog, ,Fashion156, ,Freemasons’ Hall, ,girls aloud, ,knitwear, ,lfw, ,metallics, ,Nicola Roberts, ,onoff, ,Ramon Gurillo, ,Sports Luxe, ,Victoria House

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week Autumn/ Winter 2010 Catwalk Review: Hermione de Paula

Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Jamie Shovlin        ‘Every victim and manner of death in Friday the 13th film series’

Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Moral turpitude is quite a fantastic term. According to wikipedia, click medications it’s an act of baseness, vileness or depravity in the private and social duties which a man owes to his fellowmen”
And it was under the grounds of ‘Moral Turpitude’ that artist Sebastian Horsley was unceremoniously denied access to the USA.
Despite failing in his duties as a fellowman, Horsley’s resume is impressive. Voluntarily crucifixion, pulling a loaded colt on a journalist, and of course, the requisitory opiate and prostitution dependencies.

Tonight, Horsley, amongst a myriad of others (Tracey Emin, Gavin Turk to name but a few) displays work at The Vegas Gallery’s ‘Peeping Tom’ group exhibit. The concept of the exhibition is focused on exploring the unseen, the private moments, which often bear no spectators.

stehliJemima Stehli       ‘Tit with card 3′

Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Out of all the artists, I am curious to see what Horsley contributes to the exhibition, as his artwork is usually scandalous, sensationalist and well, brimming with all sorts of moral turpitude.
Inside The Vegas Gallery, the walls are a chessboard of artwork, with no descriptions or names around them; which in itself references the theme of the ‘Peeping Tom’; by the viewer and subject interacting anonomously, the sense of voyeurism is heightened.
Some are self-evident; Tracey Emin’s ‘Sobasex’ (My Cunt is Wet With Fear) is easily recognizable as a blueprint for the neon version hung beside the now infamous Tracey’s Bed.
And Sebastian Horsley’s work is easily disguisable, but not quite by the same standards.
“That’s appalling, how horribly vulgar!”
Says one patron, walking briskly away from a framed photograph, featuring Horsley quite graphically performing coitus on a quadruple amputee.
At first I don’t recognise that it’s an amputee; one might say it’s the carnal dance of limbs that confuse the image, but honestly, that’s not what the eye is drawn to.
It’s easy to find Sebastian Horsley in a crowd; his top hat is probably the same size as me. Intrigued to know more about the piece, I wrangle him away for a moment to discuss the piece.
“Well, it was taken in a brothel in Amsterdam.” He begins, surprisingly soft spoken and friendly for a “vile degenerate”
“The concept was about what beauty is…the body as sculpture. I thought about Ancient Greece and the Elgin Marbles, how originally they must have looked like any other statue, quite plain, then without limbs suddenly they evoke mystery and beauty. ”

The concept is interesting; I wonder if the aghast patrons are more concerned about the depiction of a sexual act, or whether that’s a façade for a deeper routed sense of disgust about having sex with a quadruple amputee. Discrimination against disability is still insidious, and commonplace. By placing the spectator into a position where they are forced to confront the image in such a visceral way, perhaps Horsley is in fact making the viewer confront their own prejudices; a true ‘peeping tom’ insight into their own bigotry…
Or perhaps he’s just a narcissistic pervert who likes banging prostitutes. Art is in the eye of the beholder I suppose.

eob_peeping_tom1Emer O’Brien Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

For those who aren’t overtly into the obscene, Peeping Tom displays many other artworks that don’t cause regurgitation.
I really liked Emer O’Brien’s white horse, which is a simple photograph, beautifully shot and almost looks like a painting. Also, white horses make me think of unicorns. Got to love a unicorn.

Jemima Stehli managed to speak to me for a few moments about her self portraits, aptly titled ‘Tit with Card 3’ which is pretty much what it sounds like.
“My inspiration behind it, was turning the body into separate sculpture by separating it with card, and presenting it to the world.”

In total, I’d advise to set a few hours aside to browse around The Vegas Gallery. With such a rich and varied supply of artwork, from the sublime to the obscure, there’s definitely an aspect for everyone to enjoy.

Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Jamie Shovlin  Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Moral turpitude is quite a fantastic term. According to wikipedia, viagra order it’s an act of baseness, vileness or depravity in the private and social duties which a man owes to his fellowmen”
And it was under the grounds of ‘Moral Turpitude’ that artist Sebastian Horsley was unceremoniously denied access to the USA.
Despite failing in his duties as a fellowman, Horsley’s resume is impressive. Voluntarily crucifixion, pulling a loaded colt on a journalist, and of course, the requisitory opiate and prostitution dependencies.

Tonight, Horsley, amongst a myriad of others (Tracey Emin, Gavin Turk to name but a few) displays work at The Vegas Gallery’s ‘Peeping Tom’ group exhibit. The concept of the exhibition is focused on exploring the unseen, the private moments, which often bear no spectators.

stehliJemima Stehli Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

Out of all the artists, I am curious to see what Horsley contributes to the exhibition, as his artwork is usually scandalous, sensationalist and well, brimming with all sorts of moral turpitude.
Inside The Vegas Gallery, the walls are a chessboard of artwork, with no descriptions or names around them; which in itself references the theme of the ‘Peeping Tom’; by the viewer and subject interacting anonomously, the sense of voyeurism is heightened.
Some are self-evident; Tracey Emin’s ‘Sobasex’ (My Cunt is Wet With Fear) is easily recognizable as a blueprint for the neon version hung beside the now infamous Tracey’s Bed.
And Sebastian Horsley’s work is easily disguisable, but not quite by the same standards.
“That’s appalling, how horribly vulgar!”
Says one patron, walking briskly away from a framed photograph, featuring Horsley quite graphically performing coitus on a quadruple amputee.
At first I don’t recognise that it’s an amputee; one might say it’s the carnal dance of limbs that confuse the image, but honestly, that’s not what the eye is drawn to.
It’s easy to find Sebastian Horsley in a crowd; his top hat is probably the same size as me. Intrigued to know more about the piece, I wrangle him away for a moment to discuss the piece.
“Well, it was taken in a brothel in Amsterdam.” He begins, surprisingly soft spoken and friendly for a “vile degenerate”
“The concept was about what beauty is…the body as sculpture. I thought about Ancient Greece and the Elgin Marbles, how originally they must have looked like any other statue, quite plain, then without limbs suddenly they evoke mystery and beauty. ”

The concept is interesting; I wonder if the aghast patrons are more concerned about the depiction of a sexual act, or whether that’s a façade for a deeper routed sense of disgust about having sex with a quadruple amputee. Discrimination against disability is still insidious, and commonplace. By placing the spectator into a position where they are forced to confront the image in such a visceral way, perhaps Horsley is in fact making the viewer confront their own prejudices; a true ‘peeping tom’ insight into their own bigotry…
Or perhaps he’s just a narcissistic pervert who likes banging prostitutes. Art is in the eye of the beholder I suppose.

eob_peeping_tom1Emer O’Brien Courtesy of The Vegas Gallery

For those who aren’t overtly into the obscene, Peeping Tom displays many other artworks that don’t cause regurgitation.
I really liked Emer O’Brien’s white horse, which is a simple photograph, beautifully shot and almost looks like a painting. Also, white horses make me think of unicorns. Got to love a unicorn.

Jemima Stehli managed to speak to me for a few moments about her self portraits, aptly titled ‘Tit with Card 3’ which is pretty much what it sounds like.
“My inspiration behind it, was turning the body into separate sculpture by separating it with card, and presenting it to the world.”

In total, I’d advise to set a few hours aside to browse around The Vegas Gallery. With such a rich and varied supply of artwork, from the sublime to the obscure, there’s definitely an aspect for everyone to enjoy.

On Monday I was lucky enough to receive an invitation to the Hermione de Paula AW10 show presented at Vauxhall Fashion Scout. As a big fan of Hermione (having written about her ethical brand and interviewed her for Amelia’s magazine previously) I was very excited to see what she had come up with for the forthcoming winter season.

!cid_B2FEA8A2-F9AE-48FF-B9B6-9AD65D56FD7D@localIllustration courtesy of Gemma Milly.

With jewelled dresses in sight I was instead treated to a more futuristic collection than I had seen from this designer previously, viagra with space-age themes prevailing. Taking inspiration from the concept of an enslaved femininity the collection is entitled ‘Poly Crystalline’, sildenafil taken from the structures of ice.

P2222776Photography courtesy of Rachael Oku

With this collection aiming to both accentuate and celebrate the female form, each dress appears like sculpted ice, with a purposeful Jessica Rabbit style figure which exudes glamour and femininity. With concentrated prints of flowers peppered throughout the collection, these added bright flashes of colour to primarily black dresses. With futuristic panels appearing on the front of many of the dresses for me this was by far Hermione’s edgiest collection yet.

P2222778

With accentuated shoulders, fur trim hoods reminiscent of Snow White and beautiful cut out detailing this was a superb collection. I loved the diverse use of textiles with Hermione sampling everything from sheer iridescent fabrics and vinyl to pleated plastics. A truly futuristic super hero inducing collection that looks set to be bang on trend for next season.

Categories ,Caryn Franklin, ,Gemma Milly, ,Hermione de Paula, ,Jessica Rabbit, ,lfw, ,Vauxhall Fashion Scout, ,‘Poly Crystalline’

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Amelia’s Magazine | Krystof Strozyna: London Fashion Week A/W 2012 Catwalk Review

Krystof Strozyna A/W 2012 by Carol Ryder
Krystof Strozyna A/W 2012 by Carol Ryder.

Krystof Strozyna showed on Friday 17th February in the Fashion Scout salon. I dashed in at the last minute, giving me pole position at the end of the catwalk.

krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
This was a more sombre showing than is usual from the renowned Polish designer, featuring a predominantly neutral colour palette of black, cream, sand and milk chocolate – a flash of royal blue in the form of two sexy silk dresses provided welcome relief.

krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
Krystof Strozyna A/W 2012 by Jacqueline Valencia
Krystof Strozyna A/W 2012 by Jacqueline Valencia.

The collection featured asymmetric shaping that revealed large expanses of thigh, zippered blouse details combined with sheer panels, and draping aplenty. Having spent so much time at Fashion Philosophy Fashion Week Poland over the past few seasons I now recognise all these elements to be the backbone of a typically Polish aesthetic, and unfortunately I felt that Krystof Strozyna was playing it incredibly safe. The demands of commerciality could well be exerting a strong hold over the designer these days: come back, experimental Krystof of yore.

krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
krystof strozyna AW 2012 -photo by Amelia Gregory
All photography by Amelia Gregory.

Categories ,A/W 2012, ,Carol Ryder, ,catwalk, ,Fashion Philosophy Fashion Week Poland, ,Fashion Scout, ,Jacqueline Valencia, ,Krystof Strozyna, ,lfw, ,London Fashion Week, ,review, ,Salon

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week Autumn/ Winter 2010 Catwalk Review: Hermione de Paula

On Monday I was lucky enough to receive an invitation to the Hermione de Paula AW10 show presented at Vauxhall Fashion Scout. As a big fan of Hermione (having written about her ethical brand and interviewed her for Amelia’s magazine previously) I was very excited to see what she had come up with for the forthcoming winter season.

!cid_B2FEA8A2-F9AE-48FF-B9B6-9AD65D56FD7D@localIllustration courtesy of Gemma Milly.

With jewelled dresses in sight I was instead treated to a more futuristic collection than I had seen from this designer previously, with space-age themes prevailing. Taking inspiration from the concept of an enslaved femininity the collection is entitled ‘Poly Crystalline’, taken from the structures of ice.

P2222776Photography courtesy of Rachael Oku

With this collection aiming to both accentuate and celebrate the female form, each dress appears like sculpted ice, with a purposeful Jessica Rabbit style figure which exudes glamour and femininity. With concentrated prints of flowers peppered throughout the collection, these added bright flashes of colour to primarily black dresses. With futuristic panels appearing on the front of many of the dresses for me this was by far Hermione’s edgiest collection yet.

P2222778

With accentuated shoulders, fur trim hoods reminiscent of Snow White and beautiful cut out detailing this was a superb collection. I loved the diverse use of textiles with Hermione sampling everything from sheer iridescent fabrics and vinyl to pleated plastics. A truly futuristic super hero inducing collection that looks set to be bang on trend for next season.

Categories ,Caryn Franklin, ,Gemma Milly, ,Hermione de Paula, ,Jessica Rabbit, ,lfw, ,Vauxhall Fashion Scout, ,‘Poly Crystalline’

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Amelia’s Magazine | KTZ: London Fashion Week A/W 2012 Catwalk Review


KTZ A/W 2012 by Lorna Leigh Harrington

Regular readers of my London Fashion Week reviews (Hi mum, sorry I haven’t called, been busy) will know that I absolutely adore KTZ. If I could only choose one show to see each season it would probably be this – so it was disappointing that both myself and Amelia hadn’t received any tickets this time. The show had been moved from its regular spot on menswear day to fit in with the womenswear schedule – a move not so surprising considering the KTZ womenswear is usually what gets people talking. This also might explain the lack of tickets – but it was thanks to fashion superhero Lida over at The First To Know that I managed to get in.


All photography by Matt Bramford

Inside, it was already approaching capacity with barely enough room to swing a Canon zoom lens. I managed to perch on the end of a row – one cheek on, one cheek off – as the aisles began to fill up also. Now I don’t want to get above my station but I’ve seen some really, really bad fashion etiquette this season. It seems there are more and more people desperate to take photographs, with people standing up in all rows to try and secure a less blurry shot. It makes for a messy looking show, with some people even resorting to lying on the floor. I dread to think what kind of immoral images they take of the poor models.


KTZ A/W 2012 by Warren Clarke

I had just enough time to scan the crowds for celebrities before the show began – I think there was a member of The Saturdays (I could be wrong) who looked like she’d been getting ready since 2004. The lights fell, the infamous eardrum-bursting music began and this season’s KTZ extravaganza opened with a monochrome all-plaid number. I hadn’t had time to survey any show notes in part because I was trying to work out whether Girl From The Saturdays was actually from The Saturdays – and sometimes this makes the show more interesting, when you have no idea what to expect. This opening number featured a loose-fitting jacket in heavy tartan fabric, embellished with silver pearls and worn over matching layers – herringbone and smaller tartans – all brought together at the waist with a deep belt featuring ‘KTZ’ in metal.

The tartans kept a-coming, and I would even be so brave to suggest that tartan might be a trend, if people still really worry about things like that. Gorgeous plaid in bright yellow and rich red appeared, styled similarly in Yohji Yamamoto-esque coats with askew proportions and leather and gold accessories. A little bit punk, a little bit New Romantic (styled with flat, shapeless caps) and a LOT of fun.

On the bottom half, tartans came on pleated skirts – sexier than kilts, cut much higher above the knee. Digital-print skirts carrying constellations almost went unnoticed amongst such vibrant fabrics.

As usual there was a huge element of mystery to this collection – as it progressed, models wore huge capes printed with ambiguous religious symbols and monk-like hoods that managed to be sexy and scary at the same time. This section of the show would most certainly have had Dan Brown soaked.

The offerings for fellas seemed a lot stronger this year and the relationship between menswear and womenswear was the most married I’ve seen from KTZ so far. Tartan caps and puffa jackets carried fur trims, large scarves with said symbols were worn across the chest, and hooded cassocks had a surprisingly masculine effect.

The finale brought a few unusual pieces that came as a bit of a surprise – it made the collection seem a little incoherent, but this is KTZ and they can be as incoherent as they bloody like for all I care – leave orderly collections to the Jasper Conrans of fashion, I say. Pinstripe New Romantic-proportioned blazers were embellished with hundreds and thousands of shimmering stars for the gents; for women this treatment appeared on a body-conscious one-piece. A black cropped-sleeve dress, covered completely in black jewels, brought gasps from the guests on my bench.

Reviewing my photographs, I haven’t even mentioned the Versace-esque printed dress with Baroque and tartan fused together perfectly in print, OR the Chanel-esque twinset and baggy sweater. Oh! It was wonderfully exhausting as always, and a massive relief to see that, even in an age of austerity, KTZ will continue to invite us (ahem) into their weird and wonderful dreams.

Categories ,A/W 2012, ,AW12, ,BFC, ,catwalk, ,chanel, ,Constellations, ,Digital Print, ,Kokontozai, ,KTZ, ,lfw, ,Lida, ,London Fashion Week, ,Lorna Leigh Harrington, ,Matt Bramford, ,menswear, ,New Romantics, ,Pinstripe, ,Plaid, ,review, ,Show Space, ,Somerset House, ,Tartan, ,The First To Know, ,Versace, ,Warren Clarke, ,Womenswear, ,Yohji Yamamoto

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week Autumn/ Winter 2010 Catwalk Review: Julian J Smith

Julian J Smith was back for a second helping of London Fashion Week this season, link after his brilliant debut last September showing his inspired SS10 collection. Having previously worked with the likes of Roland Mouret and Erdem, adiposity before branching out with his own label – Julian J Smith is one designer who certainly knows his craft.

Julian-J-Smith-AW10-katie-harnettIllustrations throughout courtesy of Teabelle.

Set to fast paced music the collection consisted of edgy urban wear, with a touch of femininity in the fitted dress silhouettes. It is said that Julian was inspired by a mixture of ‘Icy Scandinavia and the wild natives of Central America,’ and these influences shone through. Pixelated diamond prints rocked the runway in pretty shades of pink, mustard yellow and baby blues, which contributed to the Central America theme; contrasted against hard black, which was a recurring theme right across the catwalks this season. Shiny, black, puffa-style jackets added something playful and individual to the Julian J Smith collection; creating a beautiful contrast with the summery colour palette.

P2200079Photograph courtesy of Camilla Sampson.

Beautiful dress panels that reminded me of spider’s webs were a favourite; filled with delicate holes, and combined with other colour panels. Other recurring trends from previous seasons included the statement shoulder, but here there was a softer take on the look: puff sleeves on black jackets were juxtaposed against tougher zips across the front. Some draping was seen on skirts, and there were splashes of bolder colours, such as acid green, warming up the look for AW10. Monochrome paint splatter graphics were scattered throughout, on shoulders and dress panels, whilst attention to detail was a definite strength of the collection, such as cut-out shoulders.

Julian-J-Smith-AW10-2-katie-harnett

The looks were teamed with French plaits, opaque tights, and glossy black plastic headbands with touches of grey that had something a little sci-fi about them (but were most likely the ‘Icy Scandinavia’ influence). Finally there was a subtler approach to the sheer trend, with just sleeves being presented transparently.
Julian J Smith is definitely on our list of ones to watch next season, with his talent most definitely growing from strength to strength. With recurring trends being a key focus for the collection, Julian J Smith deftly manipulated them to his advantage in a way that only an emerging design talent could.

Categories ,AW10 collection, ,Camilla Sampson, ,Central America, ,Erdem, ,Icy Scandinavia, ,Julian J Smith, ,lfw, ,onoff, ,Roland Mouret, ,teabelle

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