Initially I got stuck in the lift with a delivery man, and then a very tanned lady. Apparently you are not supposed to use the lift at London Fashion Week. I don’t normally use the lift (thighs), but to be honest, I was unsure as to how to get to the Portico Rooms, where Orla Kiely was showing her short films, and there was an arrow towards the lift. Anyway, tanned lady assisted me in getting in and consequently missed her lift and was forced to take the stairs. She was lovely. I entered the little room to find three sheds, twig trees, pretty stools, lots of stuffed birds (real?) and strange bird/nature music, wafting.
I wish I could say that I wafted around the room, and I tried to put be exhibition faced, but I had to move around people, twigs in my hair and face and then birds – just there. *SQUAWK* Perhaps now would be the time to say I am scared of birds.
A dyed, dark haired boy with a strong side parting came up to me, straight backed and carrying a tray of champagne. Luckily for him the tray had little grooves so the stems came out the bottom to avoid spillage. Sadly for me, I couldn’t see how to access le bubbly. “How do I… ah, thanks”. I clutched my champagne at its stem. Although I saw most people holding their glasses around the fatter bit. I was told this was wrong to do by a man at a ‘ra’ party when I was 15. I also thought this was wrong/bad etiquette/heats liquid with hand warmth? But it does look better, holding champs at the fatter bit…rearrange hand. I smiled at a lady who had a few people round her and was smiling in my direction. She saw me though, and it vanished. Denied! I later heard her say she was the Editor of a Homes magazine and she got her photo taken amongst the twig trees. My time at BBC Homes and Antiques, as an intern, came rushing back to me.
I meandered about. LOVED the girls in Orla Kiely outfits, plastered to the walls. Although Orla Kiely heavily reminds me of women in Clifton (affluent part of Bristol), and Bath, sauntering about, I think her designs look excellent on younger women. With 60s influences, and pretty detailing, they’re perfect and easy to wear creations, that are FAR from some of preconceived ideas. Most of the aforementioned women only ever really wear the bags, to be fair. And to see the full outfits, with the pretty shoes, natural colours and high hemlines, I was in lust with Orla! Less the birds.
I had a little chat with the champagne boy, as I had no chance of speaking to Ms Editor, she wouldn’t appreciate one of my own designed business cards (they’re amazing). He said the films had been on rotation since 7am, which is fiiiine, but the soundtrack (i.e. birds), was a tad repetitive. We discussed our day. He asked if I was in ‘the business’. I replied: “Mmmm, writer.” I felt bad for not asking him if he was in the business, but as I sat on an Orla bench, decided that he was a poet who had escaped Burnley.
I saw that the films were being shown in the sheds. I considered leaning on the side of the shed, as no one seemed to be sitting inside them. But instead decided to sit inside, on a stool, in the shed. It felt like one of those watch places you find on walks. Then: ARG!! A MASSIVE stuffed OWL was looking straight at me. Out the shed.
The video was purposefully flickery and sweet, with the models in greens and creams, wandering about their vintage filled houses. I won’t lie; I wanted the house/clothes dearly. They looked so contented, slightly robotic, but perfect.
Orla Kiely LFW A/W 2011, photography by Amelia Gregory
It seems that lighter, floatier fabrics took hold for Orla Kiely’s S/S 2011 collection, as Orla said: For ready-to-wear, there is silk organza mesh partywear; sheer fabrics have played a large part in the collection. Some prints also have abstract references to apples and pears. Within bags and accessories, I have designed leather backpacks and my debut sunglasses range.” But, heavier fabrics have returned for A/W, with beautiful, thick coats, short, wool dresses and A Line skirts, knitted skirt suits and 70s influenced belted loose jersey dresses and bell sleeves. All worn with black socks and ankle strapped shoes. Thick knit long cardigans or 60s trenches also feature, whilst the make up is subtle, allowing the deep teals, greens and light browns to take the focus. And of course promoting the simple, pretty, easy to wear, natural style of Orla Kiely.
I was transfixed by the video for a little while – the music was quite liable to do this – and then, although tempted to sit and drink more champagne on a pretty stool, I wandered off out the correct door.
Joana Faria’s Illustrations can also be found in Amelia’s Compendium of Fashion Illustration, available here.
Written by Helen Martin on Monday February 21st, 2011 1:54 pm
Presentations are funny things; done badly they can leave you feeling a bit underwhelmed, case but done well they can be even more effective than a big catwalk show. Craig Lawrence’s A/W 2011 presentation fell into the latter category for me; a series of presentations meant that there was plenty of room to find a seat, this but still impressive front row faces like Susie Bubble and Fred Butler. A voiceover narrated the details of each outfit which really shed a lot of light on the intricacies of the designs that might have been lost on me otherwise; like garments being turned inside out to expose filigree textures beneath the surface.
The shoes were also real show-stoppers, medical the result of a collaboration between Craig and Crisian & McCaffrey, featuring killer heels and knitted panels. The colours of the collection were inspired by the night; dark blues, purples and navy blues; a brilliant alternative to the blacks and greys autumn/winter collections often resort to. Craig’s alternative textiles like cellophane and Kyototex give a shimmery finish to evening wear, whilst knitted tights worn underneath sheer knits created striking, layered patterns. Some pieces were made up of large circles and stripes woven into the fabric, subtle details which only really showed up in the texture of the garments.
In striking contrast to the dark clothes, the models’ eyes were accentuated with a neon orange stripe on each eyelid; in keeping with the ‘brights’ make-up trend. Statement tights were also omnipresent in the LFW crowd and Craig’s offerings imply they’re going nowhere.
When the presentation finished, Craig didn’t seem to be making an appearance, until his mum left her place on the front row to drag him out to much applause. He certainly deserves it for pioneering a totally innovative approach to textiles and knitwear which has made him a firm fixture on the London fashion scene.
Presentations are funny things; done badly they can leave you feeling a bit underwhelmed, case but done well they can be even more effective than a big catwalk show. Craig Lawrence’s A/W 2011 presentation fell into the latter category for me; a series of presentations meant that there was plenty of room to find a seat, this but still impressive front row faces like Susie Bubble and Fred Butler. A voiceover narrated the details of each outfit which really shed a lot of light on the intricacies of the designs that might have been lost on me otherwise; like garments being turned inside out to expose filigree textures beneath the surface.
The shoes were also real show-stoppers, medical the result of a collaboration between Craig and Crisian & McCaffrey, featuring killer heels and knitted panels. The colours of the collection were inspired by the night; dark blues, purples and navy blues; a brilliant alternative to the blacks and greys autumn/winter collections often resort to. Craig’s alternative textiles like cellophane and Kyototex give a shimmery finish to evening wear, whilst knitted tights worn underneath sheer knits created striking, layered patterns. Some pieces were made up of large circles and stripes woven into the fabric, subtle details which only really showed up in the texture of the garments.
In striking contrast to the dark clothes, the models’ eyes were accentuated with a neon orange stripe on each eyelid; in keeping with the ‘brights’ make-up trend. Statement tights were also omnipresent in the LFW crowd and Craig’s offerings imply they’re going nowhere.
When the presentation finished, Craig didn’t seem to be making an appearance, until his mum left her place on the front row to drag him out to much applause. He certainly deserves it for pioneering a totally innovative approach to textiles and knitwear which has made him a firm fixture on the London fashion scene.
Eudon_Choi_BY_Avril_Kelly
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, page but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, discount involved an all in one – I think, check I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and looked tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. This were looser and strapless or had a single knotted strap, over the shoulder.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful.
Eudon Choi LFW A/W 2011 Collection, illness illustration by Karolina Burdon
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
Eudon Choi LFW A/W 2011 Collection, illustration by Avril Kelly
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and looked tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. This were looser and strapless or had a single knotted strap, over the shoulder.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful.
Eudon Choi LFW A/W 2011 Collection, abortion illustration by Karolina Burdon
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, this but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
Eudon Choi LFW A/W 2011 Collection, illustration by Avril Kelly
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and looked tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. This were looser and strapless or had a single knotted strap, over the shoulder.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful. Asked how he would describe an Eudon Choi woman, the designer said: “She likes to stand out from the crowd yet look stylish and sophisticated. She looks individual, with an edge.” That’s perfectly achieved.
Eudon Choi LFW A/W 2011 Collection, healing illustration by Karolina Burdon
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, order but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
Eudon Choi LFW A/W 2011 Collection, illustration by Avril Kelly
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and looked tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. This were looser and strapless or had a single knotted strap, over the shoulder.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful. Asked how he would describe an Eudon Choi woman, the designer said: “She likes to stand out from the crowd yet look stylish and sophisticated. She looks individual, with an edge.” That’s perfectly achieved.
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, shop but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and looked tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. This were looser and strapless or had a single knotted strap, over the shoulder.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful. Asked how he would describe an Eudon Choi woman, the designer said: “She likes to stand out from the crowd yet look stylish and sophisticated. She looks individual, with an edge.” That’s perfectly achieved.
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and looked tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. This were looser and strapless or had a single knotted strap, over the shoulder. The look was very together. Like the women who carry small tubes of expensive moisturiser and have ipad covers made from baby goat leather. And an actual ipad or four. The woman who is organised and controlled. Wears Chanel’s Red No.5 lipstick and doesn’t mind a bit of hard business with her espresso. She doesn’t even have time to look at you up and down darling, she’s too busy looking ahead.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful. Asked how he would describe an Eudon Choi woman, the designer said: “She likes to stand out from the crowd yet look stylish and sophisticated. She looks individual, with an edge.” That’s perfectly achieved.
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, information pills but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, information pills involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and was tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. These were looser, most strapless or with a single knotted strap, over the shoulder. The look was very together. Like the women who carry small tubes of expensive moisturiser and have ipad covers made from baby goat leather. And an actual ipad or four.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful. Asked how he would describe an Eudon Choi woman, the designer said: “She likes to stand out from the crowd yet look stylish and sophisticated. She looks individual, with an edge.” That’s perfectly achieved. Organised and controlled, a wearer of Chanel’s Red No.5 lipstick. She positively thrives over a bit of hard business with her espresso. Not a second to spare, she doesn’t even have time to look you up and down darling. Too busy looking ahead.
I’m going to say saddles. And horses. It’s not just because there was a saddle on the invite to the show. You couldn’t escape the leather straps at Eudon Choi. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were all for, but they were clearly beautifully soft and of the highest quality. One of the outfits a model wore, involved an all in one – I think, I’d have to study it at closer range – contraption, that worked like braces and a belt. The braces went down to the top of the thighs and featured gold loops and studs. Worn with a white shirt and beige skirt, it was very old English, equestrian. Open toe wedge boots were worn with short black dresses. Navy, orangey browns, tans, greys and rusty colours were prominent. Nothing too artificial, or over the top. You could imagine wearing these to work. The funnel neck coats, a line skirts, three quarter length sleeves and loose shouldered pieces, were all positively clean and sharp. I personally liked a long sleeved floaty dress, with a wide diagonal off white stripe across the body, from the neck to the hemline. It had a very high waisted leather belt, almost making it empire lined, and looked feminine and understated.
The skirts got shorter and then wider as the show continued. A wide grey/cream, short coat, made an appearance. It featured two strips of brown leather towards its hem, and was tailored to perfection. The floatier dressses hit midi length and full length, with slits to the thigh. These were looser, most strapless or with a single knotted strap, over the shoulder. The look was very together. Like the women who carry small tubes of expensive moisturiser and have ipad covers made from baby goat leather. And an actual ipad, or four.
Everything felt very structured, slightly confined and purposeful. Asked how he would describe an Eudon Choi woman, the designer said: “She likes to stand out from the crowd yet look stylish and sophisticated. She looks individual, with an edge.” That’s perfectly achieved. Organised and controlled, a wearer of Chanel’s Red No.5 lipstick. She positively thrives over a bit of hard business with her espresso. Not a second to spare, she doesn’t even have time to look you up and down darling. Too busy looking ahead.
I’d call the day: ‘mizzley’. This is a term I robbed from the Cornish, as it so aptly describes the mix of misty rain, murk and the consequential frizzy hair. Joy. Thus standing in the rain, not so fun. Luckily the power of the coloured sticker, whizzed me and my companion for the day, illustrator Emma Block, straight through the monster doors. We were seated in a grand hall. A ballroom, a destination for pretty dresses, pizazz and parties. How fitting that Bernard Chandron is promising so many modern twists to this whole ball swirling around the room, soiree into the small hours, affair.
‘With a futuristic yet luxurious feel, the designs are functional and sexy with an effortless edge. Known for his sharp cuts and innovative silohettes, we see new refinements in the cut. The silohettes are structured, with nipped in waistlines. The sleeves are inspired by sportwear but given a chic treatment.’
I don’t normally quote press releases, but I kept reading this paragraph over and over. Imagining the designs. I do adore some future luxury, don’t you? I mean, what is it? Sounds modern. In my mind I was thinking distinctly ball like. I was hoping for some edgy, sporty dancing numbers. They’d be so perfect in this chandelier rammed, gold edged haven. After I had finished pondering on this, I realised, with a half empty hall, there was obviously going to be a wait before the show started. So I arranged my English weather paraphrenalia again, before checking I hadn’t lost my camera another four times. Then had a proper look around. I saw the gentleman who appears to be a fixture on the front row. Always enormous, with the sheer quantity of his multi-coloured/fabric type layers, and looking distinctly as if he has just eaten something vile. Relatively old, I hold on to the hope that he was a lesser known design extradordinaire in the 60s. With a shop somewhere on King’s Road, he left to live in a caravan in Peru, before returning in the 90s. To kick some fashion ass. And take up the FROW. You just know he has been wearing velvet slippers and long, silk dressing gowns as everyday wear since ‘The Start’.
I asked Emma if she could see anyone she recognised. Perhaps a super, hot shot Editor, or a celebrity? She said she could only see Matt Bramford. I say only, but in reality, we both acknowledged his obvious celebrity. He couldn’t see us however (and DO people wave at LFW?). In the row before us, a lady sat with enormous, spiked shoulders. I looked down and Emma had drawn her, beautifully. I looked down at my own notebook, with bizarre doodles and random words ‘TEAL’, ‘GOTHIC’, ‘POW’, etc. strewn all over it. Hmmm.
Bernard Chandran LFW A/W 2011, illustration by Emma Block
It was nice being with Emma, who was very excited to see her first show. I couldn’t wait to see her illustration in full action as well. And eventually, it went dark. Then stayed dark for absolutely ages, before super cool music started banging out and the models began their parade. Clearly unafraid of colour, Chandran‘s pieces were bold; organges, pinks, reds and electric blue, with black punctuating the pops of colours. Everything felt structured, indeed – like space – but also fun and actually joyously fluid. Some of the pieces had a little dominatrix vibe, with zips, points and tighter structures. Most of these were fitted close to the body and pencil shaped. A number also came with a hard, curvy little peplum, sticking out on one side, adding to the futuristic vibe and pizazz. In contrast, if the aforementioned fitted dresses were the futuristic, luxury space women, the show’s feathered dresses were the residents of a brightly coloured planet, like Bond’s Dr No. Juxtaposing the closely fitted pieces,Chandran‘s show featured a few of these utterly gorgeous feather pieces. These were looser, shorter, and came with the addition of beautiful movement. The tiny, brightly coloured feathers danced together with the strides of the models. With a life of their own, they were swirling, liberating and modern. These dresses stood out for me.
Chandran uses leather, silk, wool, velvet, jersey and lace. He also uses a top stiching technique, which involves the mixing and matching of fabrics to create tartans. One of which in the show, involved a diamond cross hatch effect, and was coloured grey, with black detailing. This was a stand alone, gorgeous dress, but it also complimented the bright pallette, and thus would look utterly fantastic with super bright shoes. Detailing was also very evident in Chandran‘s show. Zips, 3D buttons and the peplums, strongly featured throughout. The overall look was a strong, confident woman. Unafraid of the future, she wears unusual details, with innate attitude, and colour with relish. Bright inspiration, I wondered how Emma would replicate the strength of colour and movement with her pencils. Sure that she would with ease. Her eyes were alert with all that they had seen. I took a photo of her by the catwalk and we wandered off for a cup of tea down the road. Shame London looked so grey today.
Written by Helen Martin on Friday February 25th, 2011 3:18 pm
MariaFrancescaPepe LFW A/W 2011. Illustration by Abby Wright.
It was extremely dark in that first room. Save for a few lamps casting red strips of a blood-like glow. Certain points were lit up on the model, information pills the shining metal spikes, dosage the dull sheen of black leather and the pointed hat. I will be honest now. I had to check that the model was in fact a mannequin. She was. But checking was interesting. The light was so low and I was terrified she would move suddenly. An intimidating mannequin.
I wasn’t sure whether the rest of the models would be mannequins too, but as we entered slightly more light filled rooms, it was obvious that these ones were real. But they were also a higher level of scary. Two looked like mermaids trapped on rocks. Occasionally shifting, they looked confident, bored and yet super vulnerable and TRAPPED. I felt myself want to look at them closer, but then one of them looked me in the eye. Which was a shock. These models, with their purposefully lank, long hair, dark eyes, glossy and pale skin, ghostlike sheer dresses, and fabulous golden accessories looked like aliens. Of course ridiculously beautiful aliens.
Photography Helen Martin
I have to say that I was mesmerised by the back of one model. She had a golden, Egyptian styled headpiece, in the shape of eyes. The three main headpieces were forged by hand in resin and carbon steel, then varnished in opalescent acrylics and hand studded with brass and Swarovski hexagonal studs. They are designed in the style of medieval shields and helmets. The tiara for me was my favourite however, it looked regal and yet delicate and pretty. Also empowering, I imagine a useful attribute for whichever land she/you/me might be in. In contrast, although also empowering, MariaFrancescaPepe‘s shoes looked like something you could definitely cause GBH with. Not pretty, pretty – fierce! In a more sultry way than Rihanna fierce. With enormous spikes at the top, their cream colour, did little to belie their extra ridiculous height and metal danger.
Photography Helen Martin
Like the tiara, the majority of the presentation focused on eyes. Earrings, rings and chains…. EYES. This was a small issue for me. Ever since my brother told me the details of his eye operation at five years old, and then watching Dali’s eye slitting scene – ugh- I’m feeling sick as I write, I have been afraid of anything touching eyes. Or just weird eyes. And in truth… Dali. Cue sweeping generalisation alert: In terms of films, books, art and what I have seen; the 30s, like the 70s, seem like the scariest decades to me. Thus, when the saddest and scariest looking model of them all, looked at me right in the eye, with her incredibly, INTENSELY mesmerising own eyes, I didn’t know what to do. Transfixing model.
Model looking at me… Photography Helen Martin
It’s not surprising that MariaFrancescaPepe has been heavily influenced by Dali’s surrealism for this collection. As I read: ‘Objects of magical meaning and of inner strength. A mask hides and reveals at the same time. Eyes are a mirror for the soul. Dali’s surrealism lesson has been learnt.’ The presentation was tribal and punky, but also ethereal and ghost-like. Almost like facing your own deep reality, that of the soul’s and our desires. The ‘ahhhhhhhhhhh’ music added to these fearful and reflective thoughts. It was as if MariaFrancescaPepe had gone through Indiana Jones’s chest of treasure, added in some Alien, X Files, lots of Dali and then Marilyn Manson on top. Sounds odd, is odd – but also very interesting. It comes as no surprise that Lady GaGa apparently ‘embodies’ MariaFrancescaPepe’s accessories.
Written by Helen Martin on Friday February 25th, 2011 6:28 pm
The BFC Tent is massive. Or a lot bigger than the other show spaces. But the benches are the same; white and hard. I went to where I was supposed to be seated and realised it was smack bang in the middle of an already super full bench. I went to the end of the bench; “Any…? No, no, ok then. Thanks.” Luckily a man on the bench behind saved me by shifting up a bit and motioning towards the space he’d made. “Ah wonderful, thanks!” I sort of wanted to chat with him, but found the non-moving up people – now before me- much more interesting. Yabbering and air kissing their faces off with some other people in another row. They went from exceptionally animated and friendly to bored and motionless in second. They reminded me of whippets. The BFC was packed, rammed, up to the brim. Before long, it went dark. The wall of photographers were in their pyramid, like hyeneas, eyes blazing, they were poised…some of them taking shots for no apparent reason. Or, just in case something ridiculous happens.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection, illustration by Jenny Robins
Big shoulders, high necklines, victoriana, huge circle skirts, sashes over shoulders, trouser suits with extra long legs and short jackets, balooning at the middle slightly, and beautiful midi length skirt suits with puffed shoulders. The shoes were angular or strappy, and the hair either blown up, or short and sharply pointed. But as the show continued, the more dramatic it became. The start featured outfits you could happily wear to a whole host of occasions, all fitted, 60s shapes with Victorian influences, in reds, black, grey and teal, but then it went MAD.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Matt Bramford
It was fantastic. Everything got extremely vulumnious. Enormous jackets, enveloping the models in shells of silky, padded looking fabrics. Deep purples, teals and bold reds came streaming out. Waist and neck detailing included ruffles, pleats and knots. Skirts were bubbled and swathing. Some were paired with sheer, ruffling tops, others; tight corsets. Many of the models also wore wide headbands, which added to the historic, modern twist charm, mixing modern design with 60s and the late 1800s. And making it work surprising well.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Amelia Gregory
Then two show stopper dresses came out. One nearly pure, off white with a hooped top skirt, corseted top, long train and beautiful headpiece, wrapped around the model’s blonde hair. With ballet satin encased feet, this was ghostly, heavenly and adventurous in one. It appealed to me through its theatre, gracefulness and just off purity. The dress had character, frivolity and fantasy wrapped up. Spiced up innocence, a thrown out of her castle, princess. What did she do to be ejected? For me, although more Elizabethan perhaps in design than Victorian, this was Hardy’s; Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Walking over the hills, her boots worn through, her daze; a story.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Matt Bramford
In contrast, the next dress was BLACK. It reminded me of Queen Victoria herself, mixed with Queen Elizabeth I. Then with the addition of Helena Bonham-Carter and Tilda Swinton. Exploded hair, Elnett insanity, all rough, a bit haphazard and COOL. Together with the most over-ruffled, incredible dress, fit for a QUEEN, it was an explosion. Black as the darkest night, but with a slight shine, like the moon reflecting, the material was reminiscent of a glassy ocean at night. The neck was high, ruffled, starched and stretched down to the waist. The sleeves puffed at the top, then tightened to the wrists. Then the skirt was full and glorious, with a train behind. It was like watching the night fairy, or a stunning, black widow spider move along the catwalk. Deadly. She would have destroyed the off white, semi angel in seconds. It was the ‘other’ side of our heroine, Tess of the d’Urbervilles, downbeat on the moors. Or indeed, 19th century’s; Emily Brontë’s, Wuthering Heights. With Cathy, depressed at the Wuthering Heights estate, angered and serious, yet of course, utterly beautiful. I wish the show had been on the Yorkshire Moors (I don’t), as the dress would have looked sensational, with the wind whipping about and the layers of fabric billowing. The semi angel would have been on a deserted beach in Scotland, or a corn field. I wonder where Corrie would have placed them.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W Collection, illustration by Jenny Robins
Dear Wuthering Heights, I quote thou: ‘Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!’
MariaFrancescaPepe LFW A/W 2011. Illustration by Abby Wright.
It was extremely dark in that first room. Save for a few lamps casting red strips of a blood-like glow. Certain points were lit up on the model, information pills the shining metal spikes, dosage the dull sheen of black leather and the pointed hat. I will be honest now. I had to check that the model was in fact a mannequin. She was. But checking was interesting. The light was so low and I was terrified she would move suddenly. An intimidating mannequin.
I wasn’t sure whether the rest of the models would be mannequins too, but as we entered slightly more light filled rooms, it was obvious that these ones were real. But they were also a higher level of scary. Two looked like mermaids trapped on rocks. Occasionally shifting, they looked confident, bored and yet super vulnerable and TRAPPED. I felt myself want to look at them closer, but then one of them looked me in the eye. Which was a shock. These models, with their purposefully lank, long hair, dark eyes, glossy and pale skin, ghostlike sheer dresses, and fabulous golden accessories looked like aliens. Of course ridiculously beautiful aliens.
Photography Helen Martin
I have to say that I was mesmerised by the back of one model. She had a golden, Egyptian styled headpiece, in the shape of eyes. The three main headpieces were forged by hand in resin and carbon steel, then varnished in opalescent acrylics and hand studded with brass and Swarovski hexagonal studs. They are designed in the style of medieval shields and helmets. The tiara for me was my favourite however, it looked regal and yet delicate and pretty. Also empowering, I imagine a useful attribute for whichever land she/you/me might be in. In contrast, although also empowering, MariaFrancescaPepe‘s shoes looked like something you could definitely cause GBH with. Not pretty, pretty – fierce! In a more sultry way than Rihanna fierce. With enormous spikes at the top, their cream colour, did little to belie their extra ridiculous height and metal danger.
Photography Helen Martin
Like the tiara, the majority of the presentation focused on eyes. Earrings, rings and chains…. EYES. This was a small issue for me. Ever since my brother told me the details of his eye operation at five years old, and then watching Dali’s eye slitting scene – ugh- I’m feeling sick as I write, I have been afraid of anything touching eyes. Or just weird eyes. And in truth… Dali. Cue sweeping generalisation alert: In terms of films, books, art and what I have seen; the 30s, like the 70s, seem like the scariest decades to me. Thus, when the saddest and scariest looking model of them all, looked at me right in the eye, with her incredibly, INTENSELY mesmerising own eyes, I didn’t know what to do. Transfixing model.
Model looking at me… Photography Helen Martin
It’s not surprising that MariaFrancescaPepe has been heavily influenced by Dali’s surrealism for this collection. As I read: ‘Objects of magical meaning and of inner strength. A mask hides and reveals at the same time. Eyes are a mirror for the soul. Dali’s surrealism lesson has been learnt.’ The presentation was tribal and punky, but also ethereal and ghost-like. Almost like facing your own deep reality, that of the soul’s and our desires. The ‘ahhhhhhhhhhh’ music added to these fearful and reflective thoughts. It was as if MariaFrancescaPepe had gone through Indiana Jones’s chest of treasure, added in some Alien, X Files, lots of Dali and then Marilyn Manson on top. Sounds odd, is odd – but also very interesting. It comes as no surprise that Lady GaGa apparently ‘embodies’ MariaFrancescaPepe’s accessories.
Written by Helen Martin on Friday February 25th, 2011 6:28 pm
The BFC Tent is massive. Or a lot bigger than the other show spaces. But the benches are the same; white and hard. I went to where I was supposed to be seated and realised it was smack bang in the middle of an already super full bench. I went to the end of the bench; “Any…? No, no, ok then. Thanks.” Luckily a man on the bench behind saved me by shifting up a bit and motioning towards the space he’d made. “Ah wonderful, thanks!” I sort of wanted to chat with him, but found the non-moving up people – now before me- much more interesting. Yabbering and air kissing their faces off with some other people in another row. They went from exceptionally animated and friendly to bored and motionless in second. They reminded me of whippets. The BFC was packed, rammed, up to the brim. Before long, it went dark. The wall of photographers were in their pyramid, like hyeneas, eyes blazing, they were poised…some of them taking shots for no apparent reason. Or, just in case something ridiculous happens.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection, illustration by Jenny Robins
Big shoulders, high necklines, victoriana, huge circle skirts, sashes over shoulders, trouser suits with extra long legs and short jackets, balooning at the middle slightly, and beautiful midi length skirt suits with puffed shoulders. The shoes were angular or strappy, and the hair either blown up, or short and sharply pointed. But as the show continued, the more dramatic it became. The start featured outfits you could happily wear to a whole host of occasions, all fitted, 60s shapes with Victorian influences, in reds, black, grey and teal, but then it went MAD.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Matt Bramford
It was fantastic. Everything got extremely vulumnious. Enormous jackets, enveloping the models in shells of silky, padded looking fabrics. Deep purples, teals and bold reds came streaming out. Waist and neck detailing included ruffles, pleats and knots. Skirts were bubbled and swathing. Some were paired with sheer, ruffling tops, others; tight corsets. Many of the models also wore wide headbands, which added to the historic, modern twist charm, mixing modern design with 60s and the late 1800s. And making it work surprising well.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Amelia Gregory
Then two show stopper dresses came out. One nearly pure, off white with a hooped top skirt, corseted top, long train and beautiful headpiece, wrapped around the model’s blonde hair. With ballet satin encased feet, this was ghostly, heavenly and adventurous in one. It appealed to me through its theatre, gracefulness and just off purity. The dress had character, frivolity and fantasy wrapped up. Spiced up innocence, a thrown out of her castle, princess. What did she do to be ejected? For me, although more Elizabethan perhaps in design than Victorian, this was Hardy’s; Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Walking over the hills, her boots worn through, her daze; a story.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Matt Bramford
In contrast, the next dress was BLACK. It reminded me of Queen Victoria herself, mixed with Queen Elizabeth I. Then with the addition of Helena Bonham-Carter and Tilda Swinton. Exploded hair, Elnett insanity, all rough, a bit haphazard and COOL. Together with the most over-ruffled, incredible dress, fit for a QUEEN, it was an explosion. Black as the darkest night, but with a slight shine, like the moon reflecting, the material was reminiscent of a glassy ocean at night. The neck was high, ruffled, starched and stretched down to the waist. The sleeves puffed at the top, then tightened to the wrists. Then the skirt was full and glorious, with a train behind. It was like watching the night fairy, or a stunning, black widow spider move along the catwalk. Deadly. She would have destroyed the off white, semi angel in seconds. It was the ‘other’ side of our heroine, Tess of the d’Urbervilles, downbeat on the moors. Or indeed, 19th century’s; Emily Brontë’s, Wuthering Heights. With Cathy, depressed at the Wuthering Heights estate, angered and serious, yet of course, utterly beautiful. I wish the show had been on the Yorkshire Moors (I don’t), as the dress would have looked sensational, with the wind whipping about and the layers of fabric billowing. The semi angel would have been on a deserted beach in Scotland, or a corn field. I wonder where Corrie would have placed them.
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W Collection, illustration by Jenny Robins
Dear Wuthering Heights, I quote thou: ‘Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!’
The pages of glossies, page newspapers,blogs and even whole books are testament to the rise of the ‘streetstyle snapper’; being papped by Facehunter and co is now seen by some as the holy grail of LFW achievements. Whilst I have no problem avoiding the cameras, I do like to grab the odd shot of some of the more ‘out there’ get-ups, and of course, some friendly faces. So here are a few of my snaps from this LFW- starting with Illamasqua make-up artist Mika and Viktoria Modesta; muse to Ada Zanditon,(above); both with flawless make-up and hair at Ada’s presentation on Day 1.I also bumped into Amber and Nisha; the Broken Hearts DJs who were wearing spectacular headpieces by Tour de Fource.
It seemed the DJ duo were everywhere you turned at LFW- having collaborated with Paperself on a range of stunning paper false-eyelashes, as well as featuring in Elizabeth Lau‘s lookbook for her Autumn/Winter collection. Elizabeth’s cousin, Susanna Lau also modelled a jumper for the lookbook; one that reads ‘Having a bubble’; appropriate given her blog name Style Bubble.In fact, I thought the jumper had been specifically designed for her, but Elizabeth explained to me that all the jumper slogans come from Cockney slang and ‘Having a bubble’ means Having a laugh.It was just a happy coincidence that Susie was the perfect model for it!
Fred Butler was sitting next to Susie Bubble front row at the Craig Lawrence presentation, wearing her own fantastically colourful accessories.
At Charlie le Mindu Daphne Guinness graced the front row, sitting next to Diane Pernet from A Shaded View of Fashion. Also in attendance was one of LFW’s most dedicated over-dressers, usually clad from head to toe with PVC.Here he accessorised with a blow up wig and blow up pet dog.
Also in attendance was He of the big hair, another LFW regular. I’d spotted him at Jacob Kimmie the night before where he’d kindly posed for me, dressed in a religious ensemble, complete with oversized crucifix.
Wearing jewellery from her own line, it was nice to catch up with Kirsty Ward at her stand at Vauxhall Fashion Scout. I’ve recently been working with her boyfriend David Longshaw who also uses Kirsty’s jewellery in his collections. This couple are both talented and lovely enough to be firm fixtures on the LFW scene for years to come.
Written by Katie Antoniou on Friday February 25th, 2011 1:40 pm
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, storeillness whole foods, order and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, ed before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
‘Tis true.
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here : http://audio.talitres.com/thelaw. Download now.
On arrival at the Topshop space in Billingsgate for Mary Katrantzou I pulled up my Pashley beneath a phalanx of official LFW cars and blacked out big name magazine people carriers. I usually find it takes me approximately the same amount of time to race between venues on my bike alongside said official cars, dosage no doubt being looked down upon by wealthy magazines’ fashion editors from behind those blacked out panes. In fact, treatment maybe I should post an ode to my preferred transport, order in much the same vein that Susie Bubble has been posting about her sponsored Orla Kiely car?
My Pashley locked up outside Somerset House.
I love cycling but it was a struggle – as usual – to lock my bike against a post without it, me and my cycling pannier capsizing in an (un)attractive pile. At times like these I very much hope I’m not being watched by those who are able to elegantly descend from their car in vertiginous heels.
We were only granted one ticket to Mary Katrantzou, beautifully pearlised and colourfully printed on heavy card. Clearly then, there was no chance that anyone else was going to lay their hands on it. Having scoped the layout during Michael Van Der Ham the day before I headed straight for what I considered the best position in the cavernous hall and discovered that I was sitting next to the proud mother of Mary’s right hand man, one Alexander Giantsis, also of Greek extraction… she quickly voiced her motherly worries about her son’s lack of sleep. None, the night before.
My spot proved the perfect place to capture the models as they swung around to face the bank of cameras right at the end of the looong catwalk. Mum Stephanie kept up a running commentary as I tried to concentrate on capturing the clothes whirring past me at the hyper fast pace that has characterised the catwalk shows this season.
Despite her own concerns that she’s pushing the parameters of what people will wear Mary Katrantzou has quickly built up a glowing reputation for her clashing prints and clever architectural constructions. Last season she took architecture as her starting point but this time she looked to interiors, quoting the Marchesa Luisa Casati in her press release: “I want to be a living work of art.”
Clever hooping was attached at waist level to create a kind of riser inspired by the shape of vases, Faberge eggs and porcelain bowls – beautiful, but the kind of thing that only the thinnest of girls can get away with wearing. More successful for bigger girls would be the wide hipped dresses, curved shoulders and over skirts that stood proud from the figure. Clashing prints inspired by “priceless objets d’art” were cut and merged to create a profusion of pattern and colour in both print, embroidery and intarsia knits.
One dress featured an extraordinary skirt covered in three dimensional roses in a diagonal pattern – certainly not for the faint hearted… or those who would like to be comfortable when sitting down. Towards the end a series of chiffon skirts swept onto the catwalk, billowing dramatically around the figure.
This A/W show was everything I had hoped for: Mary Katrantzou, a fashion designer after my own maximalist heart. I’m so glad that someone out there is confident enough to translate this type of vision onto clothing.
Mary Katrantzou A/W 2011. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, information pills whole foods, clinic and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
‘Tis true.
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here : http://audio.talitres.com/thelaw. Download now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, store whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here : http://audio.talitres.com/thelaw. Download now.
On arrival at the Topshop space in Billingsgate for Mary Katrantzou I pulled up my Pashley beneath a phalanx of official LFW cars and blacked out big name magazine people carriers. I usually find it takes me approximately the same amount of time to race between venues on my bike alongside said official cars, approved no doubt being looked down upon by wealthy magazines’ fashion editors from behind those blacked out panes. In fact, maybe I should post an ode to my preferred transport, in much the same vein that Susie Bubble has been posting about her sponsored Orla Kiely car?
My Pashley locked up outside Somerset House.
I love cycling but it was a struggle – as usual – to lock my bike against a post without it, me and my cycling pannier capsizing in an (un)attractive pile. At times like these I very much hope I’m not being watched by those who are able to elegantly descend from their car in vertiginous heels.
We were only granted one ticket to Mary Katrantzou, beautifully pearlised and colourfully printed on heavy card. Clearly then, there was no chance that anyone else was going to lay their hands on it. Having scoped the layout during Michael Van Der Ham the day before I headed straight for what I considered the best position in the cavernous hall and discovered that I was sitting next to the proud mother of Mary’s right hand man, one Alexander Giantsis, also of Greek extraction… she quickly voiced her motherly worries about her son’s lack of sleep. None, the night before.
My spot proved the perfect place to capture the models as they swung around to face the bank of cameras right at the end of the looong catwalk. Mum Stephanie kept up a running commentary as I tried to concentrate on capturing the clothes whirring past me at the hyper fast pace that has characterised the catwalk shows this season.
Despite her own concerns that she’s pushing the parameters of what people will wear Mary Katrantzou has quickly built up a glowing reputation for her clashing prints and clever architectural constructions. Last season she took architecture as her starting point but this time she looked to interiors, quoting the Marchesa Luisa Casati in her press release: “I want to be a living work of art.”
Clever hooping was attached at waist level to create a kind of riser inspired by the shape of vases, Fabergé eggs and porcelain bowls – beautiful, but the kind of thing that only the thinnest of girls can get away with wearing. More successful for bigger girls would be the wide hipped dresses, curved shoulders and over skirts that stood proud from the figure. Clashing prints inspired by “priceless objets d’art” were cut and merged to create a profusion of pattern and colour in both print, embroidery and intarsia knits.
One dress featured an extraordinary skirt covered in three dimensional roses in a diagonal pattern – certainly not for the faint hearted… or those who would like to be comfortable when sitting down. Towards the end a series of chiffon skirts swept onto the catwalk, billowing dramatically around the figure.
This A/W show was everything I had hoped for: Mary Katrantzou, a fashion designer after my own maximalist heart. I’m so glad that someone out there is confident enough to translate this type of vision onto clothing.
Mary Katrantzou A/W 2011. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
On arrival at the Topshop space in Billingsgate for Mary Katrantzou I pulled up my Pashley beneath a phalanx of official LFW cars and blacked out big name magazine people carriers. I usually find it takes me approximately the same amount of time to race between venues on my bike alongside said official cars, illness no doubt being looked down upon by wealthy magazines’ fashion editors from behind those blacked out panes, order but maybe I should post an ode to my preferred transport, link in much the same vein that Susie Bubble has been posting about her sponsored Orla Kiely car?
My Pashley locked up outside Somerset House.
I love cycling but it was a struggle – as usual – to lock my bike against a post without it, me and my cycling pannier capsizing in an (un)attractive pile. At times like these I very much hope I’m not being watched by those who are able to elegantly descend from their car in vertiginous heels.
We were only granted one ticket to Mary Katrantzou, beautifully pearlised and colourfully printed on heavy card. Clearly then, there was no chance that anyone else was going to lay their hands on it. Having scoped the layout during Michael Van Der Ham the day before I headed straight for what I considered the best position in the cavernous hall and discovered that I was sitting next to the proud mother of Mary’s right hand man, one Alexander Giantsis, also of Greek extraction… she quickly voiced her motherly worries about her son’s lack of sleep. That would be none then, the night before.
My spot proved the perfect place to capture the models as they swung around to face the bank of cameras right at the end of the looong catwalk. Mum Stephanie kept up a running commentary as I tried to concentrate on capturing the clothes whirring past me at the hyper fast pace that has characterised the catwalk shows this season.
Despite her own concerns that she’s pushing the parameters of what people will wear Mary Katrantzou has quickly built up a glowing reputation for her clashing prints and clever architectural constructions. Last season she took architecture as her starting point but this time she looked to interiors, quoting the Marchesa Luisa Casati in her press release: “I want to be a living work of art.”
Clever hooping was attached at waist level to create a kind of riser inspired by the shape of vases, Fabergé eggs and porcelain bowls – beautiful, but the kind of thing that only the thinnest of girls can get away with wearing. More successful for bigger girls would be the wide hipped dresses, curved shoulders and over skirts that stood proud from the figure. Clashing prints inspired by “priceless objets d’art” were cut and merged to create a profusion of pattern and colour in print, embroidery and intarsia knits.
One dress featured an extraordinary skirt covered in three dimensional roses in a diagonal pattern – certainly not for the faint hearted… or those who would like to be comfortable when sitting down. Towards the end a series of chiffon skirts swept onto the catwalk, billowing dramatically around the figure.
This A/W show was everything I had hoped for: Mary Katrantzou, a fashion designer after my own maximalist heart. I’m so glad that someone out there is confident enough to translate my type of design onto clothing.
Mary Katrantzou A/W 2011. All photography by Amelia Gregory.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, stomach whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, information pills whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. And here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, salve whole foods, and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. For a little bit of this, here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
I know that folk music isn’t all organic, ampoule whole foods, see and love – or indeed deep lust – buried in a haystack. Happy all day, before campfires and passions at night. No, folk musicians don’t spend their days wearing slightly grubby lumberjacks or floaty, ethereal frocks. See evidence: Grizzly Bear aren’t happy all the time and Bon Iver is a delightfully melancholy chap. And then just listen to Nick Drake and young Laura Marling. To be honest I’m not really sure where I got the skippy, clappy, dancing in the hazy afternoon sunshine vision from. Perhaps it’s because folk artists tend to sing about the earth, nature and love in one breath. There is no chat of ‘honeys’ or ‘bling’. Gah, And of course, folkers may be generally creative and appreciative of the natural world, but it in no means leaves them exempt of sadness, hurt and darkness. I wonder, does it in actual fact make them more open and adept to describing their feelings than the blingers? Regardless, folk is often as rhythmic and warming as the grandfather clock that my 40s’ Grandpa chopped the bottom of, to fit in his house. Tick, tock. Folk is cosy and true, which is why it feels so pure – which is why it makes me want to reside in a yurt.
Let me introduce you to Emily Jane White. The PR sheet in-front of me says that her album is: ‘a collection of ten opulent, uncluttered and captivating ballads.’ A friend asked me other day, “If you had to only use one adjective for the rest of your life, what would it be?” If I was a news writer, I would say: “Peh, what even are adjectives?”. As a PR I would pass out. Whilst as a writer of my own devices, I would say – ‘blissful’. Then I could put ‘anti’ in-front of a word perhaps. Awkward. Anyway, off on a tangent again: Emily Jane White’s music is BLISSFUL.
See:
She is melancholy. But in the way that makes you feel perhaps strangely, very contented. Maybe it is because in a sense Emily is making peace with herself and her thoughts through the act of writing her music. She said that she found writing her latest album, Ode To Sentience, out now on Talitres Records, cathartic to write: “They speak to the emotional simplicity and complexity of human relationship. I chose to call the record Ode To Sentience because it is the capacity to feel that creates a share human experience of music. We all share the potency of music by having the capacity to feel, and I found the simplicity of this fact very beautiful.”
Her album is about leaving home, her’s was California – I Lay To Rest (California) – the drawn out strings longing to leave. The sharper notes; the sadness of leaving it. Clipped Wings is ghostly and full of yearning, reflections of love’s passed. The Cliff holds classic American twangs, whilst Oh Katherine, is a string filled heaven of a song. Her voice is as soft and delicate as a peach, whilst her fearless approach to singing from the darker depths of her consciousness matches the strings perfectly.
She is much like a Californian Kate Bush, but less obviously ethereal and screaming. Or she could be a gentler Alela Diane or singular Mountain Man. Black Silk has to be my personal favourite. The Law is guitar based, slow and… actually quite a lot like my Grandpa’s Grandfather clock. It wraps you up. Says it’s all ok. For a little bit of this, here we have ‘The Law’, for you to download for free: here. Download it now.
Apparently Emilio de la Morena has lengthened his silhouette. His pieces are now touching, viagra sale or over the knee, nurse ‘signalling a new direction that is stricter and more refined.’ The body con is still there of course, thumb remaining tighter than a wetsuit, and both wigglier and feistier than Mad Men’s, Joan. That’s exactly what the collection made me think of: Joan and Jessica Rabbit. This translates to: HOT… but sophisticated.
Red Charlotte Olympia shoes featured throughout the show. Now, I’ve always been a fan of red shoes. From ballet to sky scraping, red shoes are sweet vixens, minxes, all playful and naughty. But less; “stop it Roger” and more; “Roger I want champagne, oysters and Chanel. Get them!” She needs a man, not a wimp. She will wear her shoes in the bath, and probably won’t speak to Roger much before or after – whatever happens between them. She’s an old school dressed WOMAN, not a girl, and she expects to be treated with respect. Like the stroppier ones in James Bond films, this woman can kick some ass. And answer back with cutting looks and witty, snappy words.
Other Charlotte Olympia shoes included a suede ankle boot and platform sandals in three colours, black, red, powder pink and ivory. All utterly lust-worthy. Heaven. The colour palette mirrors Emilio de la Morena Autumn/Winter collection, which focuses on black, dark purple and RED. The sombre tones of this show, inspired by the work of the American photographer Francesca Woodman and the circumstances surrounding her suicide in New York, in 1981, aged just 22. Her photographs are hauntingly beautiful and predominantly black and white. Emilio de la Morena wanted to reflect these sad circumstances, with his use of passionate, bruised and mourning colours. These give way however, to ivory and powder pink, making for delicate prettiness, next to the block melancholy. Together, the designs look classy, serious and fantastic. I see these beautiful women by the graves of Italian gangsters, weeping. They are hard, stunning and controlled, but what they love – they adore with all their hearts.
Victoriana also featured within Emilio de la Morena’s collection, but with a modern, sheer twist. Bib decoration and high necklines created from sheer, frayed and tufted organza, make it lighter, sexier and contemporary. The longer length, wool pencil skirts also featured sheer organza. With panels, embroidered in swirling, zig zagging ribbon, created in the material, as well as silk inserts. The additions allowing for fluidity of movement.
The collection felt serious and respectfully attractive. Not flirty, terribly young, overly romantic or precocious. Instead very sensual and confident. The red stole the show. However, like red lipstick on a make up less face, it looked the most alluring, when it was paired with the other other colours. The eyes and lips are too much – alone they are beautiful. Such a bright red needed the other colours to avoid being lost, and to stand out as a solitary statement. And you know, if the three women were sobbing by the grave, each with an accent of red, just imagine… scandalous, stylish, powerful and mysterious RED.
Written by Helen Martin on Monday February 28th, 2011 7:33 pm
Corrie Nielsen LFW A/W 2011 Collection: Photography by Matt Bramford
