Amelia’s Magazine | R/H Label, fashion design from Finland: meet Hanna Riiheläinen and Emilia Hernesniemi

Hanna Riiheläinen and Emilia Hernesniemi RH Label
Hanna Riiheläinen and Emilia Hernesniemi of R/H Label.

I met Hanna Riiheläinen and Emilia Hernesniemi of R/H Label on my trip to Moscow, click where they came by train (very jealous) to pitch their brand to a panel of experts for feedback, website of which *ahem* I was one. The girls studied together for six years at the University of Art & Design Helsinki, and have forged a strong partnership which made them a delight to hang out with during my stay in Russia and I was utterly charmed by their playful style, for which they are the best ambassadors. In the first of two blog posts here’s a summary of what R/H Label are up to.

RH Label by Fawn Carr
RH Label by Fawn Carr.

R/H Label was named for a combination of the girls’ surnames, and was founded only last June in Helsinki after being in the planning for way longer, both girls having studied and worked in fashion at home and abroad after graduation – I actually met Emilia a few years ago when I borrowed clothes from Agency V, where she worked as a PR. Small world eh? They took this time in the industry to learn about the commercial sides of the business and analysed what they could do best when starting their own label: clever girls. It is no surprise that their designs perfectly encapsulate the Agency V aesthetic; playful, colourful, printed. All good things in my book!

RH Label by June Chanpoomidole
RH Label by June Chanpoomidole.

Whilst the Finnish design scene is strong on the international stage, the fashion scene is something new, and so for them indigenous inspiration comes from the likes of well known furniture designers Alvar Aalto and textiles supremo Marimekko who mainly produces textiles for the home. IVANNAhelsinki is one of the only major Finnish fashion designers to have a profile abroad, as well as Laitinen menswear which has a high profile in Milan and Paris.

Hanna Riiheläinen of R/H Label in Moscow
Hanna Riiheläinen of R/H Label in Moscow.

But now is an exciting time because there is a new generation of creatives coming through. Ones to check out include fashion photographer Susanna Majuri and Helsinki based illustrator Laura Laine. Emilia and Hanna work with creatives across lots of disciplines and are inspired by Finland’s location between the east and west – a place where different visual aesthetics easily meet and mingle. Functional solutions come over from Sweden, but there is plenty of rich decorative detail to play with from the eastern side.

RH Label SS 2011 blue dressRH Label SS 2011 jacket leggings dahlia
R/H Label S/S 2011.

RH Label SS 2011 by Michalis Christodoulou
R/H Label SS 2011 by Michalis Christodoulou.

S/S 2011 was R/H Label’s first commercial collection, inspired by Dolly Parton, Mickey Mouse, Black Magic and the Nordic Summer Sky. You don’t get much more fun than that! It features a mix of local reindeer leather and bamboo jersey and all the bespoke prints were digitally printed onto silk – they like to create every element of the collection. I particularly love the purple sky and dotty dahlia prints, and was thoroughly enamoured of their ceramic eyeball necklace, created in collaboration with a local ceramics studio.

RH Label AW 2011
R/H Label A/W 2011.

RH Label AW 2011 by Michalis ChristodoulouRH Label AW 2011 by Michalis Christodoulou
R/H Label AW 2011 by Michalis Christodoulou.

For A/W 2011 they were inspired by Dragons, Mountains, Acrobats and Vagabonds. Another rich inspirational mash up! Role models that helped to inspire the collection included the strong character of Stieg Larsson’s Lisbeth Salander, and Finnish author Sofi Oksanen. Lots of black is offset again with bright prints in louche easily wearable shapes.

RH Label AW 2011 coat
R/H Label A/W 2011

Production is mainly done in Tallinn, Estonia which is 80km away, but the reindeer bags are made in Helsinki and they are keen to do more with local materials. Interest in the collection has been quick and enthusiastic and as well as stocking at home in Finland they already have stockists in Berlin, Vienna and New York. Naturally Agency V has been looking after press, which is also going pretty darn well for such a new label.

RH Label AW 2011 jumpsuit
R/H Label A/W 2011

Now they just need to figure out a way to grow the brand organically whilst retaining their creative control… it’s all about achieving that balance, which is why they came to Moscow for advice. In my next blog Hanna and Emilia answer a few questions. In the meantime take a browse around the R/H Label website and R/H Label online shop. Let’s hope they find stockists in the UK soon.

Emilia Hernesniemi RH Label
Emilia Hernesniemi of R/H Label talking to Michael Salac of Blow PR.

Categories ,A/W 2011, ,Acrobats, ,Agency V, ,Alvar Aalto, ,berlin, ,Black Magic, ,Blow PR, ,ceramic, ,colourful, ,Dolly Parton, ,Dragons, ,Emilia Hernesniemi, ,Estonia, ,Eyeball Necklace, ,Fawn Carr, ,finland, ,FInnish, ,Helsinki, ,IVANNAhelsinki, ,June Chanpoomidole, ,Laitinen, ,Laura Laine, ,Lisbeth Salander, ,Marimekko, ,Michael Salac, ,Michalis Christodoulou, ,Mickey Mouse, ,Mountains, ,Nordic Summer Sky, ,pr, ,prints, ,R/H Label, ,Reindeer Leather, ,Riiheläinen, ,S/S 2011, ,Silk, ,Sofi Oksanen, ,Stieg Larsson, ,Susanna Majuri, ,Tallinn, ,University of Art & Design Helsinki, ,Vagabonds, ,Vienna, ,Womenswear

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week A/W 2011 Catwalk Review: Charlie Le Mindu (by Amelia)

Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea
Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea.

Charlie Le Mindu has already done massive headpieces and copious nudity… what could possibly be next? How about dripping blood, nurse Nazi references and CUNT (sprayed onto the back of a model’s head)? Yes, more about this and more was to be our Sunday morning treat at Berlin Syndrome, a show inspired by the WWII decadence of the German Third Reich.

Charlie Le Mindu. Photography by Tim Adey
Charlie Le Mindu. Photography by Tim Adey.

Charlie Le Mindu by Dan Stafford
Charlie Le Mindu by Dan Stafford.

Each season a Charlie Le Mindu ticket grows that little bit hotter… and the queues of people desperate to view his inimitable mix of genius, fantasy and fannies grows ever more clamourous. So it was that whilst waiting for Jazzkatze to start I made a judgement, made my excuses, and headed over to the tiny On/Off venue. These things happen. I knew it would be totally worth it.

Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea
Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea.

But first I had to battle my way into a decent seat. Hot avante garde fashion tends to attract a lot of extravagant characters, each trying to out-outfit the next one.

YouTube Preview Image
Out Outfit You by Bourgeois & Maurice.

So it was that I found myself just a few bodies down from fashion doyenne Daphne Guinnessallegedly attending her only show this season – and a rare LFW sighting of Diane Pernet.

Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Emma Jardine
Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Emma Jardine.

Across the way club kid Daniel Lismore looked uncomfortably squished in one of the huge froufrou contraptions that constitutes his “look”. The delightful (and talented) Natasha Khan of Bat for Lashes looked wonderfully normal in comparison – and had to fight for a front row spot.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory

Kap Bambino provided the intense soundtrack to this show, a mash up of melodic vocals, pig squeals and a grimy off-kilter baseline. Our first treat? A stripper, dripping with blood from her Violence headgear to her vampirish talons. Her only accessory was an ancient looking metal bag, slung nonchalantly from her shoulder on a thin piece of chain.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory
Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory.

She was followed onto the catwalk by a giant mohican worn with plastic cape and lacy shorts – a cross of gaffa tape the only nod to modesty. More buttery lace, more plastic, more fringing and beading on both men and women. Make up was pale, deathly, fittingly. From the front a plastic fluffy fringed cape looked pervily demure, arms bound down to the sides. From the back it revealed a spray painted phallus and more that I cannot read.

Charlie Le Mindu by Madi
Charlie Le Mindu by Madi.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 by The Lovely WarsCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 by The Lovely Wars
Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 by The Lovely Wars.

A moderately wearable lace belted maxi coat was followed by more exposed boobs and a gas mask with a waterfall of hair extruding from the mouth like an alien intervention. More hair as fur, smudged red lips, a smile from a knowing model as she pounded towards the thickly layered ranks of photographers.

Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Natsuki Otani
Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Natsuki Otani.

Charlie Le Mindu Finale Piece by LJG Art & Illustration
Charlie Le Mindu Finale Piece by LJG Art & Illustration.

And finally the denouement, a huge white eagle – a reference to the Third Reich insignia – clutching a blonde be-wigged head, the bird trailing lace and blood to the floor. It was a trail that followed the models back stage as the show ended to the sounds of a porcine massacre and Charlie Le Mindu took his curtain bow in a butcher’s apron, hands bloody. I glanced anxiously over to stylist Tamara Cincik, who was protectively cradling her pregnant belly.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory
Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory.

You can read Katie Antoniou’s earlier blog about the same show here, and see more work by Andrea Peterson in Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration. There is also a lovely blog featuring Andrea Peterson at work on the creation of her Charlie Le Mindu painting right here.

Categories ,ACOFI, ,Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration, ,Andrea Peterson, ,Ani Saunders, ,Anna Trevelyan, ,Artist Andrea, ,Bat for Lashes, ,berlin, ,Berlin Syndrome, ,Blood, ,Bourgeois & Maurice, ,Charlie le Mindu, ,CUNT, ,Dan Stafford, ,Daniel Lismore, ,Daphne Guinness, ,Diane Pernet, ,Eagle, ,Emma Jardine, ,Hair, ,Insignia, ,Jazzkatze, ,Kap Bambino, ,Katie Antoniou, ,LJG Art & Illustration, ,Madi, ,Madi Illustrates, ,Natasha Khan, ,Natsuki Otani, ,Nudity, ,onoff, ,Out Outfit You, ,Plastic, ,Strippers, ,Tamara Cincik, ,The Lovely Wars, ,Third Reich, ,Tim Adey, ,Wigs, ,WWII

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Amelia’s Magazine | London Fashion Week A/W 2011 Catwalk Review: Charlie Le Mindu (by Amelia)

Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea
Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea.

Charlie Le Mindu has already done massive headpieces and copious nudity… what could possibly be next? How about dripping blood, nurse Nazi references and CUNT (sprayed onto the back of a model’s head)? Yes, more about this and more was to be our Sunday morning treat at Berlin Syndrome, a show inspired by the WWII decadence of the German Third Reich.

Charlie Le Mindu. Photography by Tim Adey
Charlie Le Mindu. Photography by Tim Adey.

Charlie Le Mindu by Dan Stafford
Charlie Le Mindu by Dan Stafford.

Each season a Charlie Le Mindu ticket grows that little bit hotter… and the queues of people desperate to view his inimitable mix of genius, fantasy and fannies grows ever more clamourous. So it was that whilst waiting for Jazzkatze to start I made a judgement, made my excuses, and headed over to the tiny On/Off venue. These things happen. I knew it would be totally worth it.

Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea
Charlie Le Mindu by Andrea Peterson aka Artist Andrea.

But first I had to battle my way into a decent seat. Hot avante garde fashion tends to attract a lot of extravagant characters, each trying to out-outfit the next one.

YouTube Preview Image
Out Outfit You by Bourgeois & Maurice.

So it was that I found myself just a few bodies down from fashion doyenne Daphne Guinnessallegedly attending her only show this season – and a rare LFW sighting of Diane Pernet.

Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Emma Jardine
Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Emma Jardine.

Across the way club kid Daniel Lismore looked uncomfortably squished in one of the huge froufrou contraptions that constitutes his “look”. The delightful (and talented) Natasha Khan of Bat for Lashes looked wonderfully normal in comparison – and had to fight for a front row spot.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory

Kap Bambino provided the intense soundtrack to this show, a mash up of melodic vocals, pig squeals and a grimy off-kilter baseline. Our first treat? A stripper, dripping with blood from her Violence headgear to her vampirish talons. Her only accessory was an ancient looking metal bag, slung nonchalantly from her shoulder on a thin piece of chain.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory
Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory.

She was followed onto the catwalk by a giant mohican worn with plastic cape and lacy shorts – a cross of gaffa tape the only nod to modesty. More buttery lace, more plastic, more fringing and beading on both men and women. Make up was pale, deathly, fittingly. From the front a plastic fluffy fringed cape looked pervily demure, arms bound down to the sides. From the back it revealed a spray painted phallus and more that I cannot read.

Charlie Le Mindu by Madi
Charlie Le Mindu by Madi.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 by The Lovely WarsCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 by The Lovely Wars
Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 by The Lovely Wars.

A moderately wearable lace belted maxi coat was followed by more exposed boobs and a gas mask with a waterfall of hair extruding from the mouth like an alien intervention. More hair as fur, smudged red lips, a smile from a knowing model as she pounded towards the thickly layered ranks of photographers.

Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Natsuki Otani
Charlie Le Mindu Berlin Syndrome by Natsuki Otani.

Charlie Le Mindu Finale Piece by LJG Art & Illustration
Charlie Le Mindu Finale Piece by LJG Art & Illustration.

And finally the denouement, a huge white eagle – a reference to the Third Reich insignia – clutching a blonde be-wigged head, the bird trailing lace and blood to the floor. It was a trail that followed the models back stage as the show ended to the sounds of a porcine massacre and Charlie Le Mindu took his curtain bow in a butcher’s apron, hands bloody. I glanced anxiously over to stylist Tamara Cincik, who was protectively cradling her pregnant belly.

Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia GregoryCharlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory
Charlie Le Mindu A/W 2011 Berlin Syndrome. Photography by Amelia Gregory.

You can read Katie Antoniou’s earlier blog about the same show here, and see more work by Andrea Peterson in Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration. There is also a lovely blog featuring Andrea Peterson at work on the creation of her Charlie Le Mindu painting right here.

Categories ,ACOFI, ,Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration, ,Andrea Peterson, ,Ani Saunders, ,Anna Trevelyan, ,Artist Andrea, ,Bat for Lashes, ,berlin, ,Berlin Syndrome, ,Blood, ,Bourgeois & Maurice, ,Charlie le Mindu, ,CUNT, ,Dan Stafford, ,Daniel Lismore, ,Daphne Guinness, ,Diane Pernet, ,Eagle, ,Emma Jardine, ,Hair, ,Insignia, ,Jazzkatze, ,Kap Bambino, ,Katie Antoniou, ,LJG Art & Illustration, ,Madi, ,Madi Illustrates, ,Natasha Khan, ,Natsuki Otani, ,Nudity, ,onoff, ,Out Outfit You, ,Plastic, ,Strippers, ,Tamara Cincik, ,The Lovely Wars, ,Third Reich, ,Tim Adey, ,Wigs, ,WWII

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Amelia’s Magazine | Fashion in Berlin?


Illustrations by Daniel Almeroth

A surprisingly balmy (well, more about pill if 14 degrees can constitute ‘balmy’) evening at the Hoxton Bar & Kitchen beckoned me in last week, viagra 60mg where I was promised a chat with a local musician who goes by the name Dimbleby & Capper. If you’re wondering where the name comes from, then fear not, for answers to such puzzles (and a few more) about this East London-based songwriter and musical mage are coming up in the transcript below:

Hello.

Hello!

Laura…?

Laura. [nods]

Second name…?

Bettinson. With an ‘n’!

With an ‘n’… better write that down, actually. Occasionally I will have to write stuff down, I will warn you, because I’m really bad at names and stuff like that, I’ve got the tape recorder but… OK. I figure it’s best to start off by describing who you are. Y’know, what it is that you do [emphasis on ‘do’]?

Well, Dimbleby & Capper is…

Sorry, just to check – that is just you, right?

Yeah, well, it mainly is. It’s just a one-woman project, really, by myself. I started after moving to London to study for my degree at Goldsmith’s, and I started fiddling around with instruments, and before that I used to sing and play the piano, singer-songwriter stuff, but then got to London and realised that I can’t [a genuine chortle here] take a stage piano on the tube, and actually it’s far too expensive. So this developed as a way for me to take all my instruments with me, and at first I presented it in the same way, stripped-back and relaxed, but then I started messing around with electronics and sticking piano over beats. Then that started to get a little bit of presence on the live scene and we got some bigger shows, so I got in the band to help me, but [noise that can best be rendered in text as an unsure ‘ooer’] as it got more complicated than just me messing about and recording at home, especially getting other people producing me. It was when I asked myself if I was able to sing in a studio and I thought [long, drawn-out] no, I haven’t got seven million hands, so the band stuck then, so…

How many people is it now, then, that you’ve got?

It swings, sometimes it’s three people, and tonight it’s five people. It should be a five-piece, really, to have all the guitars and things.

I was listening to your EP…

Yeah?

Was really enjoying it, actually, especially the first track on there…

‘Slick Maturity’! Awful name, isn’t it?

Hah, yeah… Actually, I embarrassed myself in some e-mails, the first few I exchanged with Tasha [lovely PR lady] I was calling you Dimbleby & Crapper.

Oh, excellent. I’ve heard worse than that…

I said, “yeah, the music’s good, I just don’t understand the name though – surely that’ll put people off?” Where does the name come from, anyway?

It’s literally just, like, a name… I just needed something for a while. I didn’t want to put my own name on it because I’d been using that for a while for my singer-songwriter stuff. I hadn’t really figured out what I was doing yet but I sort of needed something, anything unrelated, really. It goes all the way back to the music, it’s very cut-up, and lyrically too I just pick words, shove them together.

Ah, Bowie did that a lot too.

Yeah, all that cut-up stuff. There’s not really… well, there’s messages, certainly, but it’s not that direct. I don’t just sit down and think the lyrics out – if I can’t write them instantly then I won’t write them at all, pretty much. I won’t just sit there for ages, overthinking things, which for me can be a bit of a nightmare when I take it to somebody else to mix they’re all a bit [a rising inflection on an ‘um-er’]. But that’s how it goes back to the name, the flip thing, the Dimbleby & Capper name reflecting that it’s almost like two different people.

You’ve talked about playing the piano, and you did some musical things before – when was that?

That was when I was about 16, 17, and before I moved to London, where I was did some singer-songwriter stuff…

That sounds almost, well, ‘refined’? Is that the right word? More thoughtful, perhaps.

Yeah, yeah!

So, Dimbleby & Capper – there’s the head of the singer-songwriter and the, um, soul…?

Yeah, well, people will put whatever they want sometimes, like ‘Myself & the Machine’ when it’s just me and a box on stage, where I’m just singing along to the noises coming out of this machine. A lot of people that was where it came from, but really, no [clicks her fingers] – it came out of thin air.

Alright. So who would you say were your… actually, no let’s go with what would describe your music as? I hate to categorise people, and it’s better when musicians describe themselves I reckon.

Essentially, it boils down to pop music. Dreamy electronic pop, and then there’s that rhythm aspect to it, with some quite heavy beats in there, and there’s also a kind of ‘world-y’ vibe to it with the tribal drumming.

You said you were studying at Goldsmith’s – what are you studying?

Music! It was great, three years of doing your own thing and having free access to a practice space, really great course. It’s where I met most of the band too. I could kind of entwine the demands of the course with what I was doing out and about in town, gig-wise, so it worked out perfectly.

How long have you been gigging around for?

Not too long, really. We started taking it more seriously when we got scouted at the Great Escape festival last year, around May or so. That’s when we started playing together properly as a band – before then it was mainly just me doing solo stuff. Our first show was actually here, around April… that’s almost the same time! Weird, how it’s been almost exactly a year.

What are your plans, release-wise? You’ve got that EP up online, is that coming?

Well, that was something we just had to get out when we found out were doing some Glastonbury slots on the BBC. We were on quite a lot, actually, which was nice, and they played ‘Slick Maturity’ quite a bit when we released that, so right now that EP is more of a reference point rather than a real release. People are asking at our shows why they can’t find us on iTunes, and that’s because we haven’t properly released it! I would like to re-release it on vinyl with a little indie label, but we still need to get the money together for that. It would be nice to get a record deal, you know, but right now that’s not too high on my list of priorities, but maybe to get some publishers involved would maybe be better in terms of being able to do this full-time. We’ll see, I don’t know what going to happen. We’ll put out another 7” again soon, though.

‘Slick Maturity’?

No, it’ll be one of the two new songs, we’ll play it tonight – maybe ‘Falling Off’?

OK. Shouldn’t you be heading onstage right about now?

Yes! Right, I’ll get off then…

At this point Laura gathered her things and headed inside, and I bumped into a couple of friends from the other side of the country. This was serendipitous for me, because I hate going to gigs on my own, and it meant I had somebody to mutter remarks to during D&C’s set. They were good remarks – one of my friends, his initial reaction was, “she’s definitely got something, hasn’t she? Can’t put my finger on it, but she’s got something…”

She has. She’s got a good set of lungs on her, her backing band are tight and have the stage act down sharp. They’ve all got these ghostly white beak masks on under their hoodies – when they gather around the Big Drum for some tribal action it’s no unlike seeing a bunch of spirit vultures circle their prey, the rotting carcass of people refusing to dance. Apparently the Hoxton B&K is a pretty A&R-heavy place at the best of times, but despite few people even daring to nod along the music was fresh and I could see the influences Laura talked about coming into the mix. On record her tunes sound similar, in a way, to Balearic beat bands around like JJ, yet live those heavy beats she says she loves are emphasised far more, turning her dream-pop into something closer to a weird laid-back IDM sort of thing.

Watch out for this girl, and her birds.


Illustrations by Daniel Almeroth

A surprisingly balmy (well, sildenafil if 14 degrees can constitute ‘balmy’) evening at the Hoxton Bar & Kitchen beckoned me in last week, look where I was promised a chat with a local musician who goes by the name Dimbleby & Capper. If you’re wondering where the name comes from, then fear not, for answers to such puzzles (and a few more) about this East London-based songwriter and musical mage are coming up in the transcript below:

Hello.

Hello!

Laura…?

Laura. [nods]

Second name…?

Bettinson. With an ‘n’!

With an ‘n’… better write that down, actually. Occasionally I will have to write stuff down, I will warn you, because I’m really bad at names and stuff like that, I’ve got the tape recorder but… OK. I figure it’s best to start off by describing who you are. Y’know, what it is that you do [emphasis on ‘do’]?

Well, Dimbleby & Capper is…

Sorry, just to check – that is just you, right?

Yeah, well, it mainly is. It’s just a one-woman project, really, by myself. I started after moving to London to study for my degree at Goldsmith’s, and I started fiddling around with instruments, and before that I used to sing and play the piano, singer-songwriter stuff, but then got to London and realised that I can’t [a genuine chortle here] take a stage piano on the tube, and actually it’s far too expensive. So this developed as a way for me to take all my instruments with me, and at first I presented it in the same way, stripped-back and relaxed, but then I started messing around with electronics and sticking piano over beats. Then that started to get a little bit of presence on the live scene and we got some bigger shows, so I got in the band to help me, but [noise that can best be rendered in text as an unsure ‘ooer’] as it got more complicated than just me messing about and recording at home, especially getting other people producing me. It was when I asked myself if I was able to sing in a studio and I thought [long, drawn-out] no, I haven’t got seven million hands, so the band stuck then, so…

How many people is it now, then, that you’ve got?

It swings, sometimes it’s three people, and tonight it’s five people. It should be a five-piece, really, to have all the guitars and things.

I was listening to your EP…

Yeah?

Was really enjoying it, actually, especially the first track on there…

‘Slick Maturity’! Awful name, isn’t it?

Hah, yeah… Actually, I embarrassed myself in some e-mails, the first few I exchanged with Tasha [lovely PR lady] I was calling you Dimbleby & Crapper.

Oh, excellent. I’ve heard worse than that…

I said, “yeah, the music’s good, I just don’t understand the name though – surely that’ll put people off?” Where does the name come from, anyway?

It’s literally just, like, a name… I just needed something for a while. I didn’t want to put my own name on it because I’d been using that for a while for my singer-songwriter stuff. I hadn’t really figured out what I was doing yet but I sort of needed something, anything unrelated, really. It goes all the way back to the music, it’s very cut-up, and lyrically too I just pick words, shove them together.

Ah, Bowie did that a lot too.

Yeah, all that cut-up stuff. There’s not really… well, there’s messages, certainly, but it’s not that direct. I don’t just sit down and think the lyrics out – if I can’t write them instantly then I won’t write them at all, pretty much. I won’t just sit there for ages, overthinking things, which for me can be a bit of a nightmare when I take it to somebody else to mix they’re all a bit [a rising inflection on an ‘um-er’]. But that’s how it goes back to the name, the flip thing, the Dimbleby & Capper name reflecting that it’s almost like two different people.

You’ve talked about playing the piano, and you did some musical things before – when was that?

That was when I was about 16, 17, and before I moved to London, where I was did some singer-songwriter stuff…

That sounds almost, well, ‘refined’? Is that the right word? More thoughtful, perhaps.

Yeah, yeah!

So, Dimbleby & Capper – there’s the head of the singer-songwriter and the, um, soul…?

Yeah, well, people will put whatever they want sometimes, like ‘Myself & the Machine’ when it’s just me and a box on stage, where I’m just singing along to the noises coming out of this machine. A lot of people that was where it came from, but really, no [clicks her fingers] – it came out of thin air.

Alright. So who would you say were your… actually, no let’s go with what would describe your music as? I hate to categorise people, and it’s better when musicians describe themselves I reckon.

Essentially, it boils down to pop music. Dreamy electronic pop, and then there’s that rhythm aspect to it, with some quite heavy beats in there, and there’s also a kind of ‘world-y’ vibe to it with the tribal drumming.

You said you were studying at Goldsmith’s – what are you studying?

Music! It was great, three years of doing your own thing and having free access to a practice space, really great course. It’s where I met most of the band too. I could kind of entwine the demands of the course with what I was doing out and about in town, gig-wise, so it worked out perfectly.

How long have you been gigging around for?

Not too long, really. We started taking it more seriously when we got scouted at the Great Escape festival last year, around May or so. That’s when we started playing together properly as a band – before then it was mainly just me doing solo stuff. Our first show was actually here, around April… that’s almost the same time! Weird, how it’s been almost exactly a year.

What are your plans, release-wise? You’ve got that EP up online, is that coming?

Well, that was something we just had to get out when we found out were doing some Glastonbury slots on the BBC. We were on quite a lot, actually, which was nice, and they played ‘Slick Maturity’ quite a bit when we released that, so right now that EP is more of a reference point rather than a real release. People are asking at our shows why they can’t find us on iTunes, and that’s because we haven’t properly released it! I would like to re-release it on vinyl with a little indie label, but we still need to get the money together for that. It would be nice to get a record deal, you know, but right now that’s not too high on my list of priorities, but maybe to get some publishers involved would maybe be better in terms of being able to do this full-time. We’ll see, I don’t know what going to happen. We’ll put out another 7” again soon, though.

‘Slick Maturity’?

No, it’ll be one of the two new songs, we’ll play it tonight – maybe ‘Falling Off’?

OK. Shouldn’t you be heading onstage right about now?

Yes! Right, I’ll get off then…

At this point Laura gathered her things and headed inside, and I bumped into a couple of friends from the other side of the country. This was serendipitous for me, because I hate going to gigs on my own, and it meant I had somebody to mutter remarks to during D&C’s set. They were good remarks – one of my friends, his initial reaction was, “she’s definitely got something, hasn’t she? Can’t put my finger on it, but she’s got something…”

She has. She’s got a good set of lungs on her, her backing band are tight and have the stage act down sharp. They’ve all got these ghostly white beak masks on under their hoodies – when they gather around the Big Drum for some tribal action it’s no unlike seeing a bunch of spirit vultures circle their prey, the rotting carcass of people refusing to dance. Apparently the Hoxton B&K is a pretty A&R-heavy place at the best of times, but despite few people even daring to nod along the music was fresh and I could see the influences Laura talked about coming into the mix. On record her tunes sound similar, in a way, to Balearic beat bands around like JJ, yet live those heavy beats she says she loves are emphasised far more, turning her dream-pop into something closer to a weird laid-back IDM sort of thing.

Watch out for this girl, and her birds.

I’m told by every fashionista that goes to Berlin (and yes, viagra I know one or two) that it’s the place for style and culture. Lord knows where they find the style half.

I was hoping to publish a street-style style post showcasing what the cool kids are wearing in Germany’s capital city. Marred by inclement weather and a distinct lack of anyone wearing an outfit of merit, this post will be slightly different.

Berliners are a strange breed, and lord knows that times have been tough in their tiny city. While they want to forgive their illustrious history, documenting it only in a selection of museums and monuments, they’ll cling on to it for dear life when it comes to style. Flippant communist outfits are de rigeur and if I had to talk trends, I would say that trenches, wax jackets and military boots are what it’s all about in Berlin.

But I saw very little insipration. I just couldn’t find it anywhere. Surely there’s some style to be had in, maybe, the nightspots of Berlin? Well, considering the kind of austragungsort that I like to frequent, I wasn’t likely to find anything remotely fashionable there, save rooms full of Diesel-clad muscle types who have been over-zealous with a Joop! bottle.

I’d love to see how Berlin Fashion Week shapes up compared to the major players, and I’m sure this is where the scenesters are to be found – my only explanation is that with the prominent nightlife, which lasts way into the next day, the fashionos hibernate during the daytime.

Berlin does have an incredible array of museums and galleries, with none overshadowing the Helmut Newton Foundation’s Museum für Fotographie. Totally up my strasse, this one. After his tragic death in 2004, Newton’s legacy is right here in an old communist casino, built over two floors and housing his work alongside many of his personal possessions. A massive pervert in anyone’s book, his unique brand of ‘porno chic‘ revolutionized fashion photography in the 1960s.

His flat has been recreated in the permanent exhibition, Private Property, which features a naked mannequin doing a handstand, drool-worthy Memphis furniture and piles upon piles of coffee-table books.

There are poignant letters of condolences to his wife, June, which pretty much make up a who’s who of fashion photography – Irving Penn, Richard Avedon, Bruce Weber and many, many more. There are also letters and faxes from himself to various fashion luminaries – my particular favourite was a fax he’d scribbled to one Mrs Anna Wintour, declaring that, yes, he’d do the shoot she’d asked, under the condition that the models ‘had a bit of meat and muscle.’

The temporary collections were a reproduction of his legendary book ‘Sumo‘ which features portraits of a range of celebrities and some of his most revered fashion work. It’s here you get a chance to see what a unique talent Newton was. Another temporary exhibition, ‘Three Boys from Pasadena‘, showcased the work of three of his assistants; his deep influence rooted in their photographs.


Paula as Cross, by George Holz

Berlin is, however, a good place to shop fashion. A range of small boutiques, including shoe shop Solebox and knitwear store LaLa Berlin. These sit well nestled amongst vintage markets and independent fashion designers.

Finally, you’ve got to love their refusal to dispose of 80s mannequins. They’re EVERYWHERE. These alone are worth a trip, if you ask me.

Categories ,berlin, ,fashion, ,Fashion Photography, ,Helmut Newton, ,Joop!, ,Museum für Fotografie, ,photography, ,streetstyle

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Amelia’s Magazine | Fashion in Berlin?


Illustrations by Daniel Almeroth

A surprisingly balmy (well, more about pill if 14 degrees can constitute ‘balmy’) evening at the Hoxton Bar & Kitchen beckoned me in last week, viagra 60mg where I was promised a chat with a local musician who goes by the name Dimbleby & Capper. If you’re wondering where the name comes from, then fear not, for answers to such puzzles (and a few more) about this East London-based songwriter and musical mage are coming up in the transcript below:

Hello.

Hello!

Laura…?

Laura. [nods]

Second name…?

Bettinson. With an ‘n’!

With an ‘n’… better write that down, actually. Occasionally I will have to write stuff down, I will warn you, because I’m really bad at names and stuff like that, I’ve got the tape recorder but… OK. I figure it’s best to start off by describing who you are. Y’know, what it is that you do [emphasis on ‘do’]?

Well, Dimbleby & Capper is…

Sorry, just to check – that is just you, right?

Yeah, well, it mainly is. It’s just a one-woman project, really, by myself. I started after moving to London to study for my degree at Goldsmith’s, and I started fiddling around with instruments, and before that I used to sing and play the piano, singer-songwriter stuff, but then got to London and realised that I can’t [a genuine chortle here] take a stage piano on the tube, and actually it’s far too expensive. So this developed as a way for me to take all my instruments with me, and at first I presented it in the same way, stripped-back and relaxed, but then I started messing around with electronics and sticking piano over beats. Then that started to get a little bit of presence on the live scene and we got some bigger shows, so I got in the band to help me, but [noise that can best be rendered in text as an unsure ‘ooer’] as it got more complicated than just me messing about and recording at home, especially getting other people producing me. It was when I asked myself if I was able to sing in a studio and I thought [long, drawn-out] no, I haven’t got seven million hands, so the band stuck then, so…

How many people is it now, then, that you’ve got?

It swings, sometimes it’s three people, and tonight it’s five people. It should be a five-piece, really, to have all the guitars and things.

I was listening to your EP…

Yeah?

Was really enjoying it, actually, especially the first track on there…

‘Slick Maturity’! Awful name, isn’t it?

Hah, yeah… Actually, I embarrassed myself in some e-mails, the first few I exchanged with Tasha [lovely PR lady] I was calling you Dimbleby & Crapper.

Oh, excellent. I’ve heard worse than that…

I said, “yeah, the music’s good, I just don’t understand the name though – surely that’ll put people off?” Where does the name come from, anyway?

It’s literally just, like, a name… I just needed something for a while. I didn’t want to put my own name on it because I’d been using that for a while for my singer-songwriter stuff. I hadn’t really figured out what I was doing yet but I sort of needed something, anything unrelated, really. It goes all the way back to the music, it’s very cut-up, and lyrically too I just pick words, shove them together.

Ah, Bowie did that a lot too.

Yeah, all that cut-up stuff. There’s not really… well, there’s messages, certainly, but it’s not that direct. I don’t just sit down and think the lyrics out – if I can’t write them instantly then I won’t write them at all, pretty much. I won’t just sit there for ages, overthinking things, which for me can be a bit of a nightmare when I take it to somebody else to mix they’re all a bit [a rising inflection on an ‘um-er’]. But that’s how it goes back to the name, the flip thing, the Dimbleby & Capper name reflecting that it’s almost like two different people.

You’ve talked about playing the piano, and you did some musical things before – when was that?

That was when I was about 16, 17, and before I moved to London, where I was did some singer-songwriter stuff…

That sounds almost, well, ‘refined’? Is that the right word? More thoughtful, perhaps.

Yeah, yeah!

So, Dimbleby & Capper – there’s the head of the singer-songwriter and the, um, soul…?

Yeah, well, people will put whatever they want sometimes, like ‘Myself & the Machine’ when it’s just me and a box on stage, where I’m just singing along to the noises coming out of this machine. A lot of people that was where it came from, but really, no [clicks her fingers] – it came out of thin air.

Alright. So who would you say were your… actually, no let’s go with what would describe your music as? I hate to categorise people, and it’s better when musicians describe themselves I reckon.

Essentially, it boils down to pop music. Dreamy electronic pop, and then there’s that rhythm aspect to it, with some quite heavy beats in there, and there’s also a kind of ‘world-y’ vibe to it with the tribal drumming.

You said you were studying at Goldsmith’s – what are you studying?

Music! It was great, three years of doing your own thing and having free access to a practice space, really great course. It’s where I met most of the band too. I could kind of entwine the demands of the course with what I was doing out and about in town, gig-wise, so it worked out perfectly.

How long have you been gigging around for?

Not too long, really. We started taking it more seriously when we got scouted at the Great Escape festival last year, around May or so. That’s when we started playing together properly as a band – before then it was mainly just me doing solo stuff. Our first show was actually here, around April… that’s almost the same time! Weird, how it’s been almost exactly a year.

What are your plans, release-wise? You’ve got that EP up online, is that coming?

Well, that was something we just had to get out when we found out were doing some Glastonbury slots on the BBC. We were on quite a lot, actually, which was nice, and they played ‘Slick Maturity’ quite a bit when we released that, so right now that EP is more of a reference point rather than a real release. People are asking at our shows why they can’t find us on iTunes, and that’s because we haven’t properly released it! I would like to re-release it on vinyl with a little indie label, but we still need to get the money together for that. It would be nice to get a record deal, you know, but right now that’s not too high on my list of priorities, but maybe to get some publishers involved would maybe be better in terms of being able to do this full-time. We’ll see, I don’t know what going to happen. We’ll put out another 7” again soon, though.

‘Slick Maturity’?

No, it’ll be one of the two new songs, we’ll play it tonight – maybe ‘Falling Off’?

OK. Shouldn’t you be heading onstage right about now?

Yes! Right, I’ll get off then…

At this point Laura gathered her things and headed inside, and I bumped into a couple of friends from the other side of the country. This was serendipitous for me, because I hate going to gigs on my own, and it meant I had somebody to mutter remarks to during D&C’s set. They were good remarks – one of my friends, his initial reaction was, “she’s definitely got something, hasn’t she? Can’t put my finger on it, but she’s got something…”

She has. She’s got a good set of lungs on her, her backing band are tight and have the stage act down sharp. They’ve all got these ghostly white beak masks on under their hoodies – when they gather around the Big Drum for some tribal action it’s no unlike seeing a bunch of spirit vultures circle their prey, the rotting carcass of people refusing to dance. Apparently the Hoxton B&K is a pretty A&R-heavy place at the best of times, but despite few people even daring to nod along the music was fresh and I could see the influences Laura talked about coming into the mix. On record her tunes sound similar, in a way, to Balearic beat bands around like JJ, yet live those heavy beats she says she loves are emphasised far more, turning her dream-pop into something closer to a weird laid-back IDM sort of thing.

Watch out for this girl, and her birds.


Illustrations by Daniel Almeroth

A surprisingly balmy (well, sildenafil if 14 degrees can constitute ‘balmy’) evening at the Hoxton Bar & Kitchen beckoned me in last week, look where I was promised a chat with a local musician who goes by the name Dimbleby & Capper. If you’re wondering where the name comes from, then fear not, for answers to such puzzles (and a few more) about this East London-based songwriter and musical mage are coming up in the transcript below:

Hello.

Hello!

Laura…?

Laura. [nods]

Second name…?

Bettinson. With an ‘n’!

With an ‘n’… better write that down, actually. Occasionally I will have to write stuff down, I will warn you, because I’m really bad at names and stuff like that, I’ve got the tape recorder but… OK. I figure it’s best to start off by describing who you are. Y’know, what it is that you do [emphasis on ‘do’]?

Well, Dimbleby & Capper is…

Sorry, just to check – that is just you, right?

Yeah, well, it mainly is. It’s just a one-woman project, really, by myself. I started after moving to London to study for my degree at Goldsmith’s, and I started fiddling around with instruments, and before that I used to sing and play the piano, singer-songwriter stuff, but then got to London and realised that I can’t [a genuine chortle here] take a stage piano on the tube, and actually it’s far too expensive. So this developed as a way for me to take all my instruments with me, and at first I presented it in the same way, stripped-back and relaxed, but then I started messing around with electronics and sticking piano over beats. Then that started to get a little bit of presence on the live scene and we got some bigger shows, so I got in the band to help me, but [noise that can best be rendered in text as an unsure ‘ooer’] as it got more complicated than just me messing about and recording at home, especially getting other people producing me. It was when I asked myself if I was able to sing in a studio and I thought [long, drawn-out] no, I haven’t got seven million hands, so the band stuck then, so…

How many people is it now, then, that you’ve got?

It swings, sometimes it’s three people, and tonight it’s five people. It should be a five-piece, really, to have all the guitars and things.

I was listening to your EP…

Yeah?

Was really enjoying it, actually, especially the first track on there…

‘Slick Maturity’! Awful name, isn’t it?

Hah, yeah… Actually, I embarrassed myself in some e-mails, the first few I exchanged with Tasha [lovely PR lady] I was calling you Dimbleby & Crapper.

Oh, excellent. I’ve heard worse than that…

I said, “yeah, the music’s good, I just don’t understand the name though – surely that’ll put people off?” Where does the name come from, anyway?

It’s literally just, like, a name… I just needed something for a while. I didn’t want to put my own name on it because I’d been using that for a while for my singer-songwriter stuff. I hadn’t really figured out what I was doing yet but I sort of needed something, anything unrelated, really. It goes all the way back to the music, it’s very cut-up, and lyrically too I just pick words, shove them together.

Ah, Bowie did that a lot too.

Yeah, all that cut-up stuff. There’s not really… well, there’s messages, certainly, but it’s not that direct. I don’t just sit down and think the lyrics out – if I can’t write them instantly then I won’t write them at all, pretty much. I won’t just sit there for ages, overthinking things, which for me can be a bit of a nightmare when I take it to somebody else to mix they’re all a bit [a rising inflection on an ‘um-er’]. But that’s how it goes back to the name, the flip thing, the Dimbleby & Capper name reflecting that it’s almost like two different people.

You’ve talked about playing the piano, and you did some musical things before – when was that?

That was when I was about 16, 17, and before I moved to London, where I was did some singer-songwriter stuff…

That sounds almost, well, ‘refined’? Is that the right word? More thoughtful, perhaps.

Yeah, yeah!

So, Dimbleby & Capper – there’s the head of the singer-songwriter and the, um, soul…?

Yeah, well, people will put whatever they want sometimes, like ‘Myself & the Machine’ when it’s just me and a box on stage, where I’m just singing along to the noises coming out of this machine. A lot of people that was where it came from, but really, no [clicks her fingers] – it came out of thin air.

Alright. So who would you say were your… actually, no let’s go with what would describe your music as? I hate to categorise people, and it’s better when musicians describe themselves I reckon.

Essentially, it boils down to pop music. Dreamy electronic pop, and then there’s that rhythm aspect to it, with some quite heavy beats in there, and there’s also a kind of ‘world-y’ vibe to it with the tribal drumming.

You said you were studying at Goldsmith’s – what are you studying?

Music! It was great, three years of doing your own thing and having free access to a practice space, really great course. It’s where I met most of the band too. I could kind of entwine the demands of the course with what I was doing out and about in town, gig-wise, so it worked out perfectly.

How long have you been gigging around for?

Not too long, really. We started taking it more seriously when we got scouted at the Great Escape festival last year, around May or so. That’s when we started playing together properly as a band – before then it was mainly just me doing solo stuff. Our first show was actually here, around April… that’s almost the same time! Weird, how it’s been almost exactly a year.

What are your plans, release-wise? You’ve got that EP up online, is that coming?

Well, that was something we just had to get out when we found out were doing some Glastonbury slots on the BBC. We were on quite a lot, actually, which was nice, and they played ‘Slick Maturity’ quite a bit when we released that, so right now that EP is more of a reference point rather than a real release. People are asking at our shows why they can’t find us on iTunes, and that’s because we haven’t properly released it! I would like to re-release it on vinyl with a little indie label, but we still need to get the money together for that. It would be nice to get a record deal, you know, but right now that’s not too high on my list of priorities, but maybe to get some publishers involved would maybe be better in terms of being able to do this full-time. We’ll see, I don’t know what going to happen. We’ll put out another 7” again soon, though.

‘Slick Maturity’?

No, it’ll be one of the two new songs, we’ll play it tonight – maybe ‘Falling Off’?

OK. Shouldn’t you be heading onstage right about now?

Yes! Right, I’ll get off then…

At this point Laura gathered her things and headed inside, and I bumped into a couple of friends from the other side of the country. This was serendipitous for me, because I hate going to gigs on my own, and it meant I had somebody to mutter remarks to during D&C’s set. They were good remarks – one of my friends, his initial reaction was, “she’s definitely got something, hasn’t she? Can’t put my finger on it, but she’s got something…”

She has. She’s got a good set of lungs on her, her backing band are tight and have the stage act down sharp. They’ve all got these ghostly white beak masks on under their hoodies – when they gather around the Big Drum for some tribal action it’s no unlike seeing a bunch of spirit vultures circle their prey, the rotting carcass of people refusing to dance. Apparently the Hoxton B&K is a pretty A&R-heavy place at the best of times, but despite few people even daring to nod along the music was fresh and I could see the influences Laura talked about coming into the mix. On record her tunes sound similar, in a way, to Balearic beat bands around like JJ, yet live those heavy beats she says she loves are emphasised far more, turning her dream-pop into something closer to a weird laid-back IDM sort of thing.

Watch out for this girl, and her birds.

I’m told by every fashionista that goes to Berlin (and yes, viagra I know one or two) that it’s the place for style and culture. Lord knows where they find the style half.

I was hoping to publish a street-style style post showcasing what the cool kids are wearing in Germany’s capital city. Marred by inclement weather and a distinct lack of anyone wearing an outfit of merit, this post will be slightly different.

Berliners are a strange breed, and lord knows that times have been tough in their tiny city. While they want to forgive their illustrious history, documenting it only in a selection of museums and monuments, they’ll cling on to it for dear life when it comes to style. Flippant communist outfits are de rigeur and if I had to talk trends, I would say that trenches, wax jackets and military boots are what it’s all about in Berlin.

But I saw very little insipration. I just couldn’t find it anywhere. Surely there’s some style to be had in, maybe, the nightspots of Berlin? Well, considering the kind of austragungsort that I like to frequent, I wasn’t likely to find anything remotely fashionable there, save rooms full of Diesel-clad muscle types who have been over-zealous with a Joop! bottle.

I’d love to see how Berlin Fashion Week shapes up compared to the major players, and I’m sure this is where the scenesters are to be found – my only explanation is that with the prominent nightlife, which lasts way into the next day, the fashionos hibernate during the daytime.

Berlin does have an incredible array of museums and galleries, with none overshadowing the Helmut Newton Foundation’s Museum für Fotographie. Totally up my strasse, this one. After his tragic death in 2004, Newton’s legacy is right here in an old communist casino, built over two floors and housing his work alongside many of his personal possessions. A massive pervert in anyone’s book, his unique brand of ‘porno chic‘ revolutionized fashion photography in the 1960s.

His flat has been recreated in the permanent exhibition, Private Property, which features a naked mannequin doing a handstand, drool-worthy Memphis furniture and piles upon piles of coffee-table books.

There are poignant letters of condolences to his wife, June, which pretty much make up a who’s who of fashion photography – Irving Penn, Richard Avedon, Bruce Weber and many, many more. There are also letters and faxes from himself to various fashion luminaries – my particular favourite was a fax he’d scribbled to one Mrs Anna Wintour, declaring that, yes, he’d do the shoot she’d asked, under the condition that the models ‘had a bit of meat and muscle.’

The temporary collections were a reproduction of his legendary book ‘Sumo‘ which features portraits of a range of celebrities and some of his most revered fashion work. It’s here you get a chance to see what a unique talent Newton was. Another temporary exhibition, ‘Three Boys from Pasadena‘, showcased the work of three of his assistants; his deep influence rooted in their photographs.


Paula as Cross, by George Holz

Berlin is, however, a good place to shop fashion. A range of small boutiques, including shoe shop Solebox and knitwear store LaLa Berlin. These sit well nestled amongst vintage markets and independent fashion designers.

Finally, you’ve got to love their refusal to dispose of 80s mannequins. They’re EVERYWHERE. These alone are worth a trip, if you ask me.

Categories ,berlin, ,fashion, ,Fashion Photography, ,Helmut Newton, ,Joop!, ,Museum für Fotografie, ,photography, ,streetstyle

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Amelia’s Magazine | Fashion Philosophy Fashion Week Poland A/W 2011 in Łódź: Dawid Tomaszewski

Dawid Tomaszewski by Karolina Burdon
Dawid Tomaszewski by Karolina Burdon.

Dawid Tomaszewski is the prodigal son who got away… a Polish boy who studied internationally, sickness including at the London College of Fashion, order before settling in Berlin where he started his own name label in 2008 to much acclaim. For Friday’s finale he showed directly after The Golden Thread awards at Fashion Week Poland, and it was a salient reminder of what exactly is expected from world class fashion design.

Dawid Tomaszewski by Rebecca Strickson
Dawid Tomaszewski by Rebecca Strickson.

Strobe lights and the soft patter of rainfall were overlaid by an increasingly frantic piano as models with neat up dos and side fringes swept onto the catwalk. This was a tightly edited collection that encompassed beautifully fitted dresses with well placed ruffles, high waisted pleated tweed skirts, huge cowl necked woven knits and crystal encrusted bodices. Of particular acclaim was a bodiced body topped with a shimmering gauze dress. Earthy woollens gave way to jade green silk and subtlety dip dyed floating gowns worthy of the red carpet. It was an incredibly attractive and polished collection that had more than a hint of classic British design. There was much here for Polish fashion designers to aspire to, although I am hoping the fur arms were not real.

David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011David Tomaszewski Fashion Week Poland AW 2011

Categories ,berlin, ,british, ,catwalk, ,Dawid Tomaszewski, ,Fashion Philosophy Fashion Week Poland, ,Fashion Week Poland, ,Jaeger, ,Karolina Burdon, ,Lodz, ,London College of Fashion, ,Rebecca Strickson, ,The Golden Thread, ,Vivienne Westwood

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Amelia’s Magazine | An interview with fashion photographer Cynthia Berger

From the series Post Punk

A little while ago I wrote an article about fashion in Berlin. It wasn’t particularly amorous to say the least; save a few incredible museums, I wasn’t overtly impressed by the grade of the fashion I saw on the street. I was only there for the weekend, mind.

Coincidentally an email popped into the fashion inbox pretty soon after from Cynthia Berger – German born and Berlin based fashion photographer. I failed to mention my less-than-flattering view of Berlin, but her photographs completely stole my attention.

Cynthia is a fashion photographer through and through, and her early years were spent wielding a camera with the help of her photographer father.

The images Cynthia creates are often stark portraits of the citizens of Berlin, and with minimal settings and styling, there is a real photojournalistic realism to her photographs (it’s no surprise to discover, then, that her influential father was also a journalist). Her work reminds me much of some of the work that was featured in Amelia’s Magazine – Louise Samuelson in Issue 08 for example.

Cynthia uses street-cast models in her photographs, giving each picture added verisimilitude, along with the designs of up-and-coming Berlin fashion designers; with most of her work being set within the dramatic urban landscape of Berlin itself, Cynthia’s photographs totally embody the spirit of this historical city.

From the series Berlin Fashion

I managed to have a quick chat with Cynthia about her father, her work and her future…

How did you get in to photography?
My father was both a photographer and a journalist, so at a very early age I was surrounded by photography. At aged 8 I started to take my own photographs.
 
What did you study?
I studied Photography in Germany and worked later in Capetown as a photographer’s assistant. Back in Germany, I studied Communication and worked for a while as a researcher in the media world, finally coming home after that.

How do your shoots come together?
The photograph is already taken in my mind before I go and shoot. I plan the shoots entirely, so that I have the freedom to experience everything and to allow the ideas to evolve.

What about photography in particular keeps you focussed?
I like to involve and inspire people.

From the series Boys in the Suburbs

What messages do your photographs carry?
Every photograph always carries a variety of messages.

Which photographers do you admire, and why?
I like Richard Avedon, particularly his portraits – they have such high density and intense impression. I also like the work of Anna Gaskell, her mysterious atmosphere and symbolic storytelling.

How is the fashion/photography scene in Berlin?
Berlin is the fashion capital of Germany. Berlin is a city that is immensely inspiring through constant change. It’s a melting pot for design, fashion, art, architecture, music and photography.

Have you travelled as a photographer?
I lived three years in Capetown, a year in London and did a few travels through the USA and Europe.

Do you think photographs can change opinions, challenge ideals, inform, provoke or otherwise?
They can – if you put them into the right context.  

What are your plans for the future?
I write any ideas I have in my “Idea Book” that I have with me wherever I am. I have many projects planned for the future, with an exhibition here in Berlin high on the list.

From the series Laura’s Story, exclusive to Amelia’s Magazine

You can see more of Cynthia’s work here.

Categories ,Amelia’s Magazine 08, ,Anna Gaskell, ,berlin, ,Capetown, ,Communication, ,Cynthia Berger, ,fashion, ,Germany, ,journalism, ,landscape, ,london, ,Louise Samuelson, ,Matt Bramford, ,Messages, ,models, ,photography, ,photojournalism, ,Richard Avedon, ,South Africa

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Amelia’s Magazine | An interview with fashion photographer Cynthia Berger

From the series Post Punk

A little while ago I wrote an article about fashion in Berlin. It wasn’t particularly amorous to say the least; save a few incredible museums, I wasn’t overtly impressed by the grade of the fashion I saw on the street. I was only there for the weekend, mind.

Coincidentally an email popped into the fashion inbox pretty soon after from Cynthia Berger – German born and Berlin based fashion photographer. I failed to mention my less-than-flattering view of Berlin, but her photographs completely stole my attention.

Cynthia is a fashion photographer through and through, and her early years were spent wielding a camera with the help of her photographer father.

The images Cynthia creates are often stark portraits of the citizens of Berlin, and with minimal settings and styling, there is a real photojournalistic realism to her photographs (it’s no surprise to discover, then, that her influential father was also a journalist). Her work reminds me much of some of the work that was featured in Amelia’s Magazine – Louise Samuelson in Issue 08 for example.

Cynthia uses street-cast models in her photographs, giving each picture added verisimilitude, along with the designs of up-and-coming Berlin fashion designers; with most of her work being set within the dramatic urban landscape of Berlin itself, Cynthia’s photographs totally embody the spirit of this historical city.

From the series Berlin Fashion

I managed to have a quick chat with Cynthia about her father, her work and her future…

How did you get in to photography?
My father was both a photographer and a journalist, so at a very early age I was surrounded by photography. At aged 8 I started to take my own photographs.
 
What did you study?
I studied Photography in Germany and worked later in Capetown as a photographer’s assistant. Back in Germany, I studied Communication and worked for a while as a researcher in the media world, finally coming home after that.

How do your shoots come together?
The photograph is already taken in my mind before I go and shoot. I plan the shoots entirely, so that I have the freedom to experience everything and to allow the ideas to evolve.

What about photography in particular keeps you focussed?
I like to involve and inspire people.

From the series Boys in the Suburbs

What messages do your photographs carry?
Every photograph always carries a variety of messages.

Which photographers do you admire, and why?
I like Richard Avedon, particularly his portraits – they have such high density and intense impression. I also like the work of Anna Gaskell, her mysterious atmosphere and symbolic storytelling.

How is the fashion/photography scene in Berlin?
Berlin is the fashion capital of Germany. Berlin is a city that is immensely inspiring through constant change. It’s a melting pot for design, fashion, art, architecture, music and photography.

Have you travelled as a photographer?
I lived three years in Capetown, a year in London and did a few travels through the USA and Europe.

Do you think photographs can change opinions, challenge ideals, inform, provoke or otherwise?
They can – if you put them into the right context.  

What are your plans for the future?
I write any ideas I have in my “Idea Book” that I have with me wherever I am. I have many projects planned for the future, with an exhibition here in Berlin high on the list.

From the series Laura’s Story, exclusive to Amelia’s Magazine

You can see more of Cynthia’s work here.



Categories ,Amelia’s Magazine 08, ,Anna Gaskell, ,berlin, ,Capetown, ,Communication, ,Cynthia Berger, ,fashion, ,Germany, ,journalism, ,landscape, ,london, ,Louise Samuelson, ,Matt Bramford, ,Messages, ,models, ,photography, ,photojournalism, ,Richard Avedon, ,South Africa

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Amelia’s Magazine | An interview with jewellery designer Kyoko Hashimoto


Ruth Strugnell

Bath Spa’s electric and original collections show they’re not afraid to mix things up at Graduate Fashion Week. 

Bath Spa began with all guns blazing for their boutique show with Bournemouth, nurse setting the scene with a soundtrack of haunting thunder and lightning. As suspense grew, order a model stepped into the spot light…with a lampshade on her head. As more models filtered onto the catwalk, cure Ruth Strugnell’s quirky eccentricity became clearer in garments that made the most of mismatching, from multicoloured socks to panels composed of various prints and wools. Despite looking like they might’ve had a tussle in a dressing up box, the models’ nipped in waists and cute, soft take on the harem pants added a sense of maturity and direction to the pieces.  

Jack Duffy mixed things up again with clashing prints and a melding of culture; oversize jackets suggested elements of Eastern tradition, whilst large, ornate collars mould themselves round the body into demi-hoods more befitting of European nobility. 

Thierry Davies’s hypnotic monochrome prints bend the mind but when paired with a neat, boxy jacket a line of harmony seems to be drawn amongst the chaos. Another perennial favourite of this year appears again – the jump-suit, this time spruced up with a dramatic contrast between blue and white sections. 

Jodie Clay’s garments varied from the loose, long hem of her black jacket to the glitz of a bespoke neckpiece and sheer blouse. The wardrobe of the 1920s women was re-examined in the modern context and energised with splashes of murky blues, but held an element of reticent class.

Natalie Ellis’s use of vintage fur coats and gloves reminded us of the staple role they played in the wardrobes of women gone by, but cropped double colour trousers were a reminder of Ellis’s unfailing dedication to modernity. Interesting shapes appeared on the body as high waisted trousers split cream khaki and black across the body, complimented by ethereal, floating blouses and fur barrel bags. 
*Here at Amelia’s Magazine we don’t advocate any wearing of fur at all, so we hope this is fake, otherwise, DON’T WEAR IT!*

Outi Silvola deconstructed apparel in the most immediate sense, repositioning collars, shoulders and buttons to give a mixed up feel that wouldn’t look out-of-place in Dover Street Market. A fully made collar placed forward on the body was a walking work of art. A shirt is at once open at yet concealing the figure, showing a careful appreciation of the simple practise of putting clothes on the human body. 

Photographs by Nina Joyce

Ruth Strugnell

Bath Spa’s electric and original collections show they’re not afraid to mix things up at Graduate Fashion Week. 

Bath Spa began with all guns blazing for their boutique show with Bournemouth, site setting the scene with a soundtrack of haunting thunder and lightning. As suspense grew, information pills a model stepped into the spot light…with a lampshade on her head. As more models filtered onto the catwalk, more about Ruth Strugnell’s quirky eccentricity became clearer in garments that made the most of mismatching, from multicoloured socks to panels composed of various prints and wools. Despite looking like they might’ve had a tussle in a dressing up box, the models’ nipped in waists and cute, soft take on the harem pants added a sense of maturity and direction to the pieces.  

Jack Duffy mixed things up again with clashing prints and a melding of culture; oversize jackets suggested elements of Eastern tradition, whilst large, ornate collars mould themselves round the body into demi-hoods more befitting of European nobility. 

Thierry Davies’s hypnotic monochrome prints bend the mind but when paired with a neat, boxy jacket a line of harmony seems to be drawn amongst the chaos. Another perennial favourite of this year appears again – the jump-suit, this time spruced up with a dramatic contrast between blue and white sections. 

Jodie Clay’s garments varied from the loose, long hem of her black jacket to the glitz of a bespoke neckpiece and sheer blouse. The wardrobe of the 1920s women was re-examined in the modern context and energised with splashes of murky blues, but held an element of reticent class.

Natalie Ellis’s use of vintage fur coats and gloves reminded us of the staple role they played in the wardrobes of women gone by, but cropped double colour trousers were a reminder of Ellis’s unfailing dedication to modernity. Interesting shapes appeared on the body as high waisted trousers split cream khaki and black across the body, complimented by ethereal, floating blouses and fur barrel bags. 
*Here at Amelia’s Magazine we don’t advocate any wearing of fur at all, so we hope this is fake, otherwise, DON’T WEAR IT!*

Outi Silvola deconstructed apparel in the most immediate sense, repositioning collars, shoulders and buttons to give a mixed up feel that wouldn’t look out-of-place in Dover Street Market. A fully made collar placed forward on the body was a walking work of art. A shirt is at once open at yet concealing the figure, showing a careful appreciation of the simple practise of putting clothes on the human body. 

Photographs by Nina Joyce

Jeweller Kyoko Hashimoto has just opened a new shop/studio in Berlin called We Are All Made of Stuff. Born in Japan, diagnosis Kyoko grew up in Australia and studied jewellery design at university. She worked on conceptual designs until setting up her own label in 2006, diagnosis and she lived in Sydney and then Tokyo before moving to Berlin. Her designs play with different textures and nature-inspired themes, creating a look that’s modern and whimsical at the same time.

Can you tell me a bit about how your own label came about?
I was travelling through Europe in the the summer of 2005, and found myself completely out of money in the fairy-tale city of Venice. It felt really surreal to be broke in such a gorgeous city. I had studied jewellery design at university, but I wasn’t really using it to earn anything – instead I was teaching English to high school kids in Tokyo. I thought, “I can do better than this.” So when I returned from my holidays, I really set my mind on creating something new and committed myself whole-heartedly to design and production.


Illustration by Paolo Caravello

What techniques and materials do you most enjoy using in your work?
I enjoy working with acrylic. It’s the medium I feel most connected with. I like the consistency and the range of colours, transparencies and depth.
Synthetic polymers have been my choice of material since my university days, and I used to do a lot of resin casting. I stopped using polyester resin because of its toxicity, but I still really enjoy working with acrylic; I like the choice of colours and forms that can be achieved with relative ease. I use a combination of traditional and industrial techniques, although given the choice, I far prefer working with traditional methods. You can definitely see the difference in a finished object that has been hand-crafted, and one that has had little or no contact with the hand. Certain imperfections can also bring charm to an object.

In your most recent collection, Shadow of Lula, you’ve created pieces that look both Victorian and contemporary at the same time. Where did the inspiration to explore traditional mourning jewellery come from?
I love reading about the history of jewellery and fashion. Jewellery as a national fashion was at its height when Queen Victoria was mourning the death of her husband Prince Albert. She was so iconic and influential that the whole of England also went into a phase of mourning, and sentimental jewellery became very popular. I like thinking about the notion of sentimentality in jewellery, and I wanted to create a collection reflecting the same sense of nostalgia and longing, but in a contemporary context. So I chose environmentalism as a theme and made jewellery to mourn extinct animals, threatened by industry and environmental destruction.

You mentioned on your blog that the different countries you’ve worked in have, in general, different fashion aesthetics – that people in the UK tend to embrace bold statement jewellery, and Germany tends to be more understated.  Having moved around the world quite a bit, do you find that the location – and the local style – influence your designs?
Absolutely. When I was living in Tokyo my aesthetic was definitely influenced by the underground subculture aesthetics. I used to be good friends with the kids that hung around Harajuku and were often featured in fashion magazines like Fruits. Their unique and colourful sense of fashion influenced me to make pieces that were bold and also somewhat strange and nonsensical. Now, living in Berlin, I have noticed that people do not wear very much statement jewellery, so I am trying to indulge in their aesthetics. It is much more understated here, minimal but also more sophisticated.

What’s it like working in Berlin compared with the other places you’ve lived in?
It’s great, because everyone here is either an artist, designer or a musician. It’s nice to engage in passionate talk about art or the exhibitions we’ve seen, and the price of housing means that people can afford a nice working space to create. It gives us more freedom to do what we love to do.


Illustration by Paolo Caravello

You used the texture of a pomelo as inspiration for one of your pendants. Do you draw a lot of inspiration from the natural world? What do you find particularly inspiring at the moment?
Yes, I guess nature is always going to be a huge pool of inspiration for me. Moving around a lot means things are always a little different, which I really like. For example, with the pomelo, I’d never seen of those before. My flatmate here in Berlin was eating it everyday, and I was thinking: “It’s not an orange… it’s not a grapefruit… what the…?”

At the moment, I’m inspired by what I saw when I went to the Natural History Museum. A huge collection of curiosities were on display in these glass cabinets. I just love old objects from the era before the Industrial Revolution. They are never perfect and there’s such an unspeakable, precious quality to them.

Which are your favourite pieces you’ve created recently?
I like the ‘Toby’ pendant I made here in Berlin. I think it embraces a new aesthetic for me, working with these rubber sponge balls I found, and also tackling the soldering iron, which I don’t often do. The oxidised sterling silver frame is made from a single sheet of metal. Maybe it’s my current favourite because it is also the newest… I’ll have to see how I feel about it in a few weeks!

Are there any other designers whose work you particularly admire?
I love the work of fashion designer Sandra Bucklung – her masterfully knitted garments are a work of art. I also admire the work of jeweller Ted Noten, whom I met when he was teaching my partner Guy Keulemans in the Netherlands. Ted likes to cast objects like guns and cocaine powder inside clear resin; the concept is simple yet extremely provocative.

We Are All Made of Stuff opened this week in Berlin. How’s it going so far, and where did the idea to set it up come from?
It happened by luck. A friend we met in Berlin knew someone who knew someone who had the space available. I actually never thought I would open a store, but if it was going to be anywhere, this would be the place. Guy and I designed the interior of the shop, together with our Austrian architect friend Christoph Hager. The result is wonderful. Really, I could not be happier and we’ve already had tons of people stop by to check it out and have a chat.

Is it a working space as well as a shop? Which other designers are showing or working there?
As well as showing mine and Guy’s work, we have jewellery pieces by fellow Australian designers like Make Believe and Anneliese Hauptstein, as well as local and European designers such as Berlin jeweller Susanne Schmitt and A&Ré, a French duo who make wonderful things with concrete. And more designers to come.
The space is a shop but also a workspace. We needed to divide these two functions, but uniquely, and without being heavy or obtrusive. So we created a kind of porous curtain made up of hundreds of individual strings hanging from the ceiling. It divides the space diagonally, and supports jewellery plinths, but you can also walk through it. Its very light and delicate. Behind the strings are workbenches, and these are removable, so we can clear the space and party!

That’s probably keeping you very busy at the moment, but have you got any other projects or collections coming up that we can look out for?
Yes, but it’s a secret for now!

Categories ,A&Ré, ,Acrylic, ,Anneliese Haupstein, ,berlin, ,Christoph Hager, ,french, ,Germany, ,Guy Keulemans, ,interview, ,japan, ,jewellery, ,Kyoko Hashimoto, ,Make Believe, ,Netherlands, ,Paolo Caravello, ,Pomelo, ,Sandra Bucklung, ,Shadow of Lula, ,Susanne Schmitt, ,Ted Noten, ,Toby pendant, ,tokyo, ,Venice, ,Victoria & Albert, ,We Are All Made of Stuff, ,Workspace

Similar Posts:






Amelia’s Magazine | An interview with jewellery designer Kyoko Hashimoto


Ruth Strugnell

Bath Spa’s electric and original collections show they’re not afraid to mix things up at Graduate Fashion Week. 

Bath Spa began with all guns blazing for their boutique show with Bournemouth, nurse setting the scene with a soundtrack of haunting thunder and lightning. As suspense grew, order a model stepped into the spot light…with a lampshade on her head. As more models filtered onto the catwalk, cure Ruth Strugnell’s quirky eccentricity became clearer in garments that made the most of mismatching, from multicoloured socks to panels composed of various prints and wools. Despite looking like they might’ve had a tussle in a dressing up box, the models’ nipped in waists and cute, soft take on the harem pants added a sense of maturity and direction to the pieces.  

Jack Duffy mixed things up again with clashing prints and a melding of culture; oversize jackets suggested elements of Eastern tradition, whilst large, ornate collars mould themselves round the body into demi-hoods more befitting of European nobility. 

Thierry Davies’s hypnotic monochrome prints bend the mind but when paired with a neat, boxy jacket a line of harmony seems to be drawn amongst the chaos. Another perennial favourite of this year appears again – the jump-suit, this time spruced up with a dramatic contrast between blue and white sections. 

Jodie Clay’s garments varied from the loose, long hem of her black jacket to the glitz of a bespoke neckpiece and sheer blouse. The wardrobe of the 1920s women was re-examined in the modern context and energised with splashes of murky blues, but held an element of reticent class.

Natalie Ellis’s use of vintage fur coats and gloves reminded us of the staple role they played in the wardrobes of women gone by, but cropped double colour trousers were a reminder of Ellis’s unfailing dedication to modernity. Interesting shapes appeared on the body as high waisted trousers split cream khaki and black across the body, complimented by ethereal, floating blouses and fur barrel bags. 
*Here at Amelia’s Magazine we don’t advocate any wearing of fur at all, so we hope this is fake, otherwise, DON’T WEAR IT!*

Outi Silvola deconstructed apparel in the most immediate sense, repositioning collars, shoulders and buttons to give a mixed up feel that wouldn’t look out-of-place in Dover Street Market. A fully made collar placed forward on the body was a walking work of art. A shirt is at once open at yet concealing the figure, showing a careful appreciation of the simple practise of putting clothes on the human body. 

Photographs by Nina Joyce

Ruth Strugnell

Bath Spa’s electric and original collections show they’re not afraid to mix things up at Graduate Fashion Week. 

Bath Spa began with all guns blazing for their boutique show with Bournemouth, site setting the scene with a soundtrack of haunting thunder and lightning. As suspense grew, information pills a model stepped into the spot light…with a lampshade on her head. As more models filtered onto the catwalk, more about Ruth Strugnell’s quirky eccentricity became clearer in garments that made the most of mismatching, from multicoloured socks to panels composed of various prints and wools. Despite looking like they might’ve had a tussle in a dressing up box, the models’ nipped in waists and cute, soft take on the harem pants added a sense of maturity and direction to the pieces.  

Jack Duffy mixed things up again with clashing prints and a melding of culture; oversize jackets suggested elements of Eastern tradition, whilst large, ornate collars mould themselves round the body into demi-hoods more befitting of European nobility. 

Thierry Davies’s hypnotic monochrome prints bend the mind but when paired with a neat, boxy jacket a line of harmony seems to be drawn amongst the chaos. Another perennial favourite of this year appears again – the jump-suit, this time spruced up with a dramatic contrast between blue and white sections. 

Jodie Clay’s garments varied from the loose, long hem of her black jacket to the glitz of a bespoke neckpiece and sheer blouse. The wardrobe of the 1920s women was re-examined in the modern context and energised with splashes of murky blues, but held an element of reticent class.

Natalie Ellis’s use of vintage fur coats and gloves reminded us of the staple role they played in the wardrobes of women gone by, but cropped double colour trousers were a reminder of Ellis’s unfailing dedication to modernity. Interesting shapes appeared on the body as high waisted trousers split cream khaki and black across the body, complimented by ethereal, floating blouses and fur barrel bags. 
*Here at Amelia’s Magazine we don’t advocate any wearing of fur at all, so we hope this is fake, otherwise, DON’T WEAR IT!*

Outi Silvola deconstructed apparel in the most immediate sense, repositioning collars, shoulders and buttons to give a mixed up feel that wouldn’t look out-of-place in Dover Street Market. A fully made collar placed forward on the body was a walking work of art. A shirt is at once open at yet concealing the figure, showing a careful appreciation of the simple practise of putting clothes on the human body. 

Photographs by Nina Joyce

Jeweller Kyoko Hashimoto has just opened a new shop/studio in Berlin called We Are All Made of Stuff. Born in Japan, diagnosis Kyoko grew up in Australia and studied jewellery design at university. She worked on conceptual designs until setting up her own label in 2006, diagnosis and she lived in Sydney and then Tokyo before moving to Berlin. Her designs play with different textures and nature-inspired themes, creating a look that’s modern and whimsical at the same time.

Can you tell me a bit about how your own label came about?
I was travelling through Europe in the the summer of 2005, and found myself completely out of money in the fairy-tale city of Venice. It felt really surreal to be broke in such a gorgeous city. I had studied jewellery design at university, but I wasn’t really using it to earn anything – instead I was teaching English to high school kids in Tokyo. I thought, “I can do better than this.” So when I returned from my holidays, I really set my mind on creating something new and committed myself whole-heartedly to design and production.


Illustration by Paolo Caravello

What techniques and materials do you most enjoy using in your work?
I enjoy working with acrylic. It’s the medium I feel most connected with. I like the consistency and the range of colours, transparencies and depth.
Synthetic polymers have been my choice of material since my university days, and I used to do a lot of resin casting. I stopped using polyester resin because of its toxicity, but I still really enjoy working with acrylic; I like the choice of colours and forms that can be achieved with relative ease. I use a combination of traditional and industrial techniques, although given the choice, I far prefer working with traditional methods. You can definitely see the difference in a finished object that has been hand-crafted, and one that has had little or no contact with the hand. Certain imperfections can also bring charm to an object.

In your most recent collection, Shadow of Lula, you’ve created pieces that look both Victorian and contemporary at the same time. Where did the inspiration to explore traditional mourning jewellery come from?
I love reading about the history of jewellery and fashion. Jewellery as a national fashion was at its height when Queen Victoria was mourning the death of her husband Prince Albert. She was so iconic and influential that the whole of England also went into a phase of mourning, and sentimental jewellery became very popular. I like thinking about the notion of sentimentality in jewellery, and I wanted to create a collection reflecting the same sense of nostalgia and longing, but in a contemporary context. So I chose environmentalism as a theme and made jewellery to mourn extinct animals, threatened by industry and environmental destruction.

You mentioned on your blog that the different countries you’ve worked in have, in general, different fashion aesthetics – that people in the UK tend to embrace bold statement jewellery, and Germany tends to be more understated.  Having moved around the world quite a bit, do you find that the location – and the local style – influence your designs?
Absolutely. When I was living in Tokyo my aesthetic was definitely influenced by the underground subculture aesthetics. I used to be good friends with the kids that hung around Harajuku and were often featured in fashion magazines like Fruits. Their unique and colourful sense of fashion influenced me to make pieces that were bold and also somewhat strange and nonsensical. Now, living in Berlin, I have noticed that people do not wear very much statement jewellery, so I am trying to indulge in their aesthetics. It is much more understated here, minimal but also more sophisticated.

What’s it like working in Berlin compared with the other places you’ve lived in?
It’s great, because everyone here is either an artist, designer or a musician. It’s nice to engage in passionate talk about art or the exhibitions we’ve seen, and the price of housing means that people can afford a nice working space to create. It gives us more freedom to do what we love to do.


Illustration by Paolo Caravello

You used the texture of a pomelo as inspiration for one of your pendants. Do you draw a lot of inspiration from the natural world? What do you find particularly inspiring at the moment?
Yes, I guess nature is always going to be a huge pool of inspiration for me. Moving around a lot means things are always a little different, which I really like. For example, with the pomelo, I’d never seen of those before. My flatmate here in Berlin was eating it everyday, and I was thinking: “It’s not an orange… it’s not a grapefruit… what the…?”

At the moment, I’m inspired by what I saw when I went to the Natural History Museum. A huge collection of curiosities were on display in these glass cabinets. I just love old objects from the era before the Industrial Revolution. They are never perfect and there’s such an unspeakable, precious quality to them.

Which are your favourite pieces you’ve created recently?
I like the ‘Toby’ pendant I made here in Berlin. I think it embraces a new aesthetic for me, working with these rubber sponge balls I found, and also tackling the soldering iron, which I don’t often do. The oxidised sterling silver frame is made from a single sheet of metal. Maybe it’s my current favourite because it is also the newest… I’ll have to see how I feel about it in a few weeks!

Are there any other designers whose work you particularly admire?
I love the work of fashion designer Sandra Bucklung – her masterfully knitted garments are a work of art. I also admire the work of jeweller Ted Noten, whom I met when he was teaching my partner Guy Keulemans in the Netherlands. Ted likes to cast objects like guns and cocaine powder inside clear resin; the concept is simple yet extremely provocative.

We Are All Made of Stuff opened this week in Berlin. How’s it going so far, and where did the idea to set it up come from?
It happened by luck. A friend we met in Berlin knew someone who knew someone who had the space available. I actually never thought I would open a store, but if it was going to be anywhere, this would be the place. Guy and I designed the interior of the shop, together with our Austrian architect friend Christoph Hager. The result is wonderful. Really, I could not be happier and we’ve already had tons of people stop by to check it out and have a chat.

Is it a working space as well as a shop? Which other designers are showing or working there?
As well as showing mine and Guy’s work, we have jewellery pieces by fellow Australian designers like Make Believe and Anneliese Hauptstein, as well as local and European designers such as Berlin jeweller Susanne Schmitt and A&Ré, a French duo who make wonderful things with concrete. And more designers to come.
The space is a shop but also a workspace. We needed to divide these two functions, but uniquely, and without being heavy or obtrusive. So we created a kind of porous curtain made up of hundreds of individual strings hanging from the ceiling. It divides the space diagonally, and supports jewellery plinths, but you can also walk through it. Its very light and delicate. Behind the strings are workbenches, and these are removable, so we can clear the space and party!

That’s probably keeping you very busy at the moment, but have you got any other projects or collections coming up that we can look out for?
Yes, but it’s a secret for now!

Categories ,A&Ré, ,Acrylic, ,Anneliese Haupstein, ,berlin, ,Christoph Hager, ,french, ,Germany, ,Guy Keulemans, ,interview, ,japan, ,jewellery, ,Kyoko Hashimoto, ,Make Believe, ,Netherlands, ,Paolo Caravello, ,Pomelo, ,Sandra Bucklung, ,Shadow of Lula, ,Susanne Schmitt, ,Ted Noten, ,Toby pendant, ,tokyo, ,Venice, ,Victoria & Albert, ,We Are All Made of Stuff, ,Workspace

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