All images courtesy of Camila Soares
There are a lot of amazing artists coming out of Brazil at the moment, nurse which can be attested to by our previous interview with Rodrigo Souto. My latest favourite to fly out from under the equator is illustrator, Camila Soares.
The very first thing that popped into my head when visiting her online portfolio was a slack jawed, ‘whoooa’. Probably not the most intellectual response, especially from an Art Editor, but there you have it, and from her illustrations included here, I think you can see why.
I especially love her portrait of Alice Dellal. I love Alice Dellal related things anyway, for way back in 2005 before a meteoric rise to success, I bumped into Alice in an east end bathroom and she randomly told me I was beautiful. I mean, she was probably on pills at the time and it was dark, but I’m a sucker for flattery. It stuck in my ‘compliments’ of fame book. Right next to the dude who played Berko in Empire Records, who will always be number one. Berko! Not so interesting narcissitic anecdotes aside, I love the how the girlish pastel tones contrast with the ‘edgy’ (I hate that word) look of the subject.
‘Skull’ is also amazing; with a hyper realistic quality that rivals Escher. I particularly dig the errant braid of hair. Perhaps a social comment on models being bones with hair?
The photograph above nicely incorporates burning as a material strategy, which again takes fashion illustration out of its fluffy shell and gives it a little backbone. Personally, I love when illustration brings a little grit into the mix. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking Harmony Korine level grit, just something a little harder than the very common ‘tweecentric’ quality of work that I see all the time. Stop with the rainbows, yo.
The watercolour blotches really contribute to Camila’s individual style, which again establishes her as a really fantastic illustrator. She clearly has her own stylistic aesthetic that is reflected in her work. It’s one thing to draw well, but to express your own flair and personality in illustration is very different, and here is a case that exemplifies such a quality.
Camila’s website can be found here
All images courtesy of Camila Soares
There are a lot of amazing artists coming out of Brazil at the moment, view which can be attested to by our previous interview with Rodrigo Souto. My latest favourite to fly out from under the equator is illustrator, viagra sale Camila Soares.
The very first thing that popped into my head when visiting her online portfolio was a slack jawed, cost ‘whoooa’. Probably not the most intellectual response, especially from an Art Editor, but there you have it, and from her illustrations included here, I think you can see why.
I especially love her portrait of Alice Dellal. I love Alice Dellal related things anyway, for way back in 2005 before a meteoric rise to success, I bumped into Alice in an east end bathroom and she randomly told me I was beautiful. I mean, she was probably on pills at the time and it was dark, but I’m a sucker for flattery. It stuck in my ‘compliments’ of fame book. Right next to the dude who played Berko in Empire Records, who will always be number one. Berko! Not so interesting narcissitic anecdotes aside, I love the how the girlish pastel tones contrast with the ‘edgy’ (I hate that word) look of the subject.
‘Skull’ is also amazing; with a hyper realistic quality that rivals Escher. I particularly dig the errant braid of hair. Perhaps a social comment on models being bones with hair?
The photograph above nicely incorporates burning as a material strategy, which again takes fashion illustration out of its fluffy shell and gives it a little backbone. Personally, I love when illustration brings a little grit into the mix. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking Harmony Korine level grit, just something a little harder than the very common ‘tweecentric’ quality of work that I see all the time. Stop with the rainbows, yo.
The watercolour blotches really contribute to Camila’s individual style, which again establishes her as a really fantastic illustrator. She clearly has her own stylistic aesthetic that is reflected in her work. It’s one thing to draw well, but to express your own flair and personality in illustration is very different, and here is a case that exemplifies such a quality.
Camila’s website can be found here
All images courtesy of Camila Soares
There are a lot of amazing artists coming out of Brazil at the moment, nurse which can be attested to by our previous interview with Rodrigo Souto. My latest favourite to fly out from under the equator is illustrator, price Camila Soares.
The very first thing that popped into my head when visiting her online portfolio was a slack jawed, viagra 40mg ‘whoooa’. Probably not the most intellectual response, especially from an Art Editor, but there you have it, and from her illustrations included here, I think you can see why.
I especially love her portrait of Alice Dellal. I love Alice Dellal related things anyway, for way back in 2005 before a meteoric rise to success, I bumped into Alice in an east end bathroom and she randomly told me I was beautiful. I mean, she was probably on pills at the time and it was dark, but I’m a sucker for flattery. It stuck in my ‘compliments’ of fame book. Right next to the dude who played Berko in Empire Records, who will always be number one. Berko! Not so interesting narcissitic anecdotes aside, I love the how the girlish pastel tones contrast with the ‘edgy’ (I hate that word) look of the subject.
‘Skull’ is also amazing; with a hyper realistic quality that rivals Escher. I particularly dig the errant braid of hair. Perhaps a social comment on models being bones with hair?
The photograph above nicely incorporates burning as a material strategy, which again takes fashion illustration out of its fluffy shell and gives it a little backbone. Personally, I love when illustration brings a little grit into the mix. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking Harmony Korine level grit, just something a little harder than the very common ‘tweecentric’ quality of work that I see all the time. Stop with the rainbows, yo.
The watercolour blotches really contribute to Camila’s individual style, which again establishes her as a really fantastic illustrator. She clearly has her own stylistic aesthetic that is reflected in her work. It’s one thing to draw well, but to express your own flair and personality in illustration is very different, and here is a case that exemplifies such a quality.
Camila’s website can be found here
I’ve never really had a hometown, illness as such. My family moved around a lot when I was a kid, find different towns in different countries, so I don’t have a hugely fond connection with any one city or village or whatever – Ana Silvera, I suspect, does. Her songs are infused with London, and in her debut single ‘Hometown’ the memories that linger there are the subject of whistful nostalgia, the kind that comes with retrospect after leaving home to travel the world.
Silvera is a London-born, Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter who has been performing since she was a child. Her voice is eerily similar to that of Regina Spektor (coincidentally, another Brooklynite), but where that Russian quirkstress may pepper her songs with weird guttural stops, hissing, mumbles and burbling, Ana is much happier relying on her remarkable and charming voice. It’s the kind of voice that only comes from being absolutely bloody determined to sound lovely (and it helps that she’s been singing with the English National Opera since she was extremely young), or exactly the voice I would expect from somebody who professes that her, “adolescent semi-rebellion,” phase came when she dared to add some jazz standards to her singing repertoire. Her vocals are accomplished and beautiful.
‘Hometown’ itself is a piano ballad, relatively short, but succinct in conjuring a mood of remembrance. “My soul runs in the waters/Runs in the waters around my hometown,” she sings, but the clue to the meaning behind this comes in the video (directed by Ryan Foregger) – ignore the chap in the toy factory for now (presumably some kind of metaphor for loss of innocence), focus on where Ana is. She’s floating, she’s asleep, she may be dead – she is gone, effectively, from the place that once held her, and now constitutes nothing more than a memory. The key’s in the last line – she doesn’t need, “those tears and those veils and those bells,” any more, she’s gone, she’s moved on. The singer-songwriter’s composition, piano-led and accompanied by a string section, is a fragile and delicate charm. Everyone, even those of us without hometowns, have those places where those memories can feel as much a part of the place as the paving slabs underfoot and the bricks and mortar of the walls.
Wintle. Illustration by Pearl Law.
The Omar Kashoura show is held down the road from Somerset House in the underground belly of bar cum restaurant Bedford & Strand. We just manage to skirt in as the show kicks off, generic the models pulling some serious saunter and pose action down the aisle and at the bar. They giggle as they pass me to retire into the make-shift dressing room, pharm which is one half of the restaurant behind a cuddle of smirking menswear editors, dapper and goading. For they know all these boys; must have shot them a thousand times for their bibles of style, male models being many times less common than female ones.
The jolly man at my ear (day job at Hackney council, no idea what he was doing at the show) mutters comments about the models as they veer in my direction “gosh, bet you like that one.” No, I don’t. “What I wouldn’t give to look like that!” Really? He’s wearing an inch of foundation. Ew. Some of my pictures call to mind the famous painting of a bartender by Manet, were it not for the prominently displayed branded bottles on the bar.
Omar Kashoura. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
There are sheeny shiny capes layered over fine gauge relaxed knits, the emphasis on detailing in necklines, cuffs and buckles. Mixing casual and dapper, these are clothes for a man who appreciates the cut and feel of fabric, the way that light glances off a material. Omar is part Arabian, echoed in the choice of predominantly swarthy, brooding models.
Another generally grim day outside the BFC tent.
Billie Piper and pals outside the BFC tent.
From there we hotfoot it over to the Wintle show back at Somerset House. For some reason Billie Piper is loitering outside in the rainy dusk with a coterie of hangers-on. What on earth is she doing at a menswear show? I can only conclude that she has friends who work for Wintle. What a bizarre celebrity sighting. Apparently she struggled to get past security. Can you imagine her: “Don’t you know who I am?!” Outrageous!
As we wait for the show to start the photographers inexplicably start baa-ing like a herd of sheep, which I find most amusing but everyone else does their level best to ignore. Folks, that’s what six days straight in the pit with a bunch of other smelly men does to you. There are no frills at this show, no goody bag on the seat – Billie Piper offers the only untoward distraction as she studiously watches the show. I’m surprised she isn’t taking notes.
Wintle. Illustration by Pearl Law.
Wintle. Illustration by Pearl Law.
Jsen Wintle shows a beautiful understated collection of soft tailoring, amusingly accessorised with oversized geek glasses, earmuffs and big bags. I can imagine many of the well-dressed men in the audience secretly salivating over these eminently touchable clothes whilst they struggle to maintain an exterior air of impenetrable cool. This is how menswear should be done. What a sedate and stylish way to finally finish off my fashion week posts.
Categories ,Bedford & Strand, ,BFC Tent, ,Billie Piper, ,hackney, ,menswear, ,Omar Kashoura, ,Pearl Law, ,Somerset House, ,Wintle
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