turn on the bright lights

Jil Sander
Spring 2011

I'm not one for fluorescent colors, but how can you resist after you watch that?

fall back

Kai-aakmann
Fall/Winter 2010
For whatever reason as it's being warming up, I can only think about Fall/Winter 2010 outerwear. There's a Fall/Winter 2010 leather jacket that I saw back in January that made my mouth drop and I'm literally counting the days until I can wear it, but another outerwear piece I've been wanting for the longest is a solid trench coat. I think you have to be a certain age to look comfortable and effortless in a trench. A mac is one thing, but a trench is something I associate with my dad wearing. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but a boxy London Fog or Burberry trench is not what I'm looking for. Enter, this Kai-aakmann trench pictured above. There's something about it that makes it not your dad's trench. Impossibly cool and with all the details you want out of standout outerwear piece (my weakness for epaulets unashamedly continues), this is one of the items that makes you wish Fall was here a little sooner.

dries

Dries Van Noten
Fall/Winter 2010

If only every woman had a closet full of Dries Van Noten and the score from Hitchcock's "Vertigo" as the soundtrack to their daily lives, we could only be so lucky.

last man on earth

One of my favorite Tom Ford collections was his Yves Saint Laurent Spring 2003 meditation on the fetishization of the body. Everything was either cut extremely close to the body in varying shades of flesh, taupe, and sheen or ballooned out to expose what was underneath a sheer black dress. The breast on a jacket curved just so and if you couldn't tell already, well there was a button on the nipple in cased you missed it. As a model would turn, a rib cage or a the shape of a buttock were printed on delicate silks. And yes, this was also the collection in which the models' nipples were painted a deep plum color and some were lucky enough to wear necklaces in the shape of a human heart covered in Swarovski crystals and pendants in the shape of a penis. Obviously, Ford has a obsessive, compulsive relationship with the body. You almost have to have it to be a successful fashion designer, but does that same eye for the aestheticizing the mundane make you a successful filmmaker? Ford's debut film, "A Single Man" certainly shows promise.

Film and fashion might seem closely related, but the beauty of fashion is that it's ephemeral and the beauty of film is that it lasts forever. Film has become part of our collective experience so much so that we attach certain memories to films that were relevant to the time. Do I remember when I bought my first cashmere sweater? Yes, but I also remember discovering Federico Fellini and thinking how myopic my life experience had been up until that point. Film provokes an emotion, a thought, a release where as fashion presents an excitement, a temporary rush, an impulse that soon fades. Ford is a smart enough designer and first time filmmaker to realize filming purple nipples for two hours would not be the wisest use of his talent (although I would like to see that film), therefore what he does explore is true to film--emotion and the body.

The key scene when Ford's talents as a filmmaker become impressive is when George (Colin Firth), a professor living in Los Angeles in the early 1906's, learns the news that his lover, Jim (Matthew Goode), has tragically died in a car accident. Colin Firth's face is in extreme close up for the uninterrupted scene. You see shock, anger, despair, and the loss of love drain from his face. It's a chilling scene that sparks the narrative. George decides he can no longer live without Jim and will proceed with his day with the full intention of ending with a bullet to the head. It's an interesting proposition. What would you do your last day you knew you were going to be alive? Ford's melancholic, but tender point of view is heightened by of course, the visual swirl of a world he creates for George's last day. Things either appear especially drab or blindly bright and attractive. George's impeccable bachelor pad is a den of OCD perfection. He lays out all of his parting trinkets and gifts for his housekeeper and best friend, Charley (Julianne Moore). George proceeds with his day in a daze of malice and contempt for a world in which he's not only free to love who he wants, but also a world in which his lover is no longer present. He acknowledges his neighbors, he buys the bullets, he goes to the bank to take out his savings. He makes arrangements to have dinner with his former lover and now friend, Charley wonderfully played by that blithe presence that is Julianne Moore. Her character indulges in pink cigarettes, spending hours getting dressed up, and Tanqueray gin because she likes the color of the bottle. With their plans for dinner, George must stop at school first for one last class.

George's activities leading up to the dinner are when Ford bears the signatures of his influences. At times you feel like you could be watching a Wong Kar Wai film with Ford's love of holding the camera on stolen glances and people pining for what they truly want to stay. George meets an eager student, Kenny (Nicholas Hoult), who expresses an interest in him. The ambiguity of their relationship is fascinating to watch in how skilled Ford creates a chemistry between these two actors, but doesn't give or show you what you might expect. In a similar chance meeting with a Spanish hustler outside of a liquor store, Ford begins the scene with pure pop delight with a shot of George pulling up in his Mercedes and parking in front of a blown up "Pyscho" poster. The choice of film poster not only pays homage to perhaps on his favorite filmmakers, but it's also a film that expresses a different form of madness, despair, sexual longing and ambiguity. George and the hustler have a sensual exchange that could have been out of a Bernardo Bertolucci film. Ford breaks up the scene with tight close ups of the curls of cigarette smoke pouring from the hustler's lips. This compulsive love of the body makes you wonder if Ford painted his nipples purple underneath his James Dean-esque t-shirt. Ford's intentional or unintentional appropriation of the genius of other filmmakers isn't a sign of hackneyed unoriginality, but rather a filmmaker discovering his own voice through the aesthetic and mood of filmmakers that he perhaps feels a kindred spirit.

When "A Single Man" is at its most singular is when you see Ford focuses on the loss of George. I'm not sure the technique he implores too often in the film of shifting the color saturation when George feels something because Firth is good enough to have you feel what he's feeling. However, in the scenes between Goode and Firth told in flashback, there's a sense of impending doom. They love each other very much, but Firth's protective eyes suggest that love is perhaps not eternal. When he's with Kenny (sensitively played by Hoult), George is liberated, but again that the liberation is only fleeting. "A Single Man" on the surface might imply that nothing lasts forever, but through Ford's appreciation for present moments (the hustler at the liquor store, Charley applying make up all day in preparation for dinner, skinny dipping in the ocean), the movie's statement is actually quite optimistic. The idea of nothing lasting forever is debatable, but what does last from "A Single Man" are the perfectly articulated and manicured traces of a burgeoning filmmaker.

want: kaboom

Christopher Kane Explosion T-Shirt
$248
I normally wouldn't say my tastes are aggressive, but there's something immediately appealing about this t-shirt. Christopher Kane's graphic approach to womenswear is the kind of evocative design that you wonder why no one has ever thought to do what he's created. I really loved the "Planet of the Apes" show from Spring 09 and the creepy nuclear clouds from Resort 10. That same intensity has obviously translated to menswear in which the image of a mushroom cloud is at once strikingly bold and in your face, but oddly minimal, bare, and discreet. I'll throw this on my last minute wish list that a very wealthy Santa should leave under my tree.

the jacket (pt. 286)

Shipley & Halmos
Belgrade Two Button Blazer, $395
The perfect movie. The perfect t-shirt. The perfect drink. The perfect weather. The perfect bacon cheeseberger. The perfect pair jeans. Will I ever be satisfied? Probably not, but the fun in searching for the perfect fill in the blank is the quest of trying each new candidate on for a size that will someday embody the title of perfect yada yada yada. In my eternal quest for the perfect black blazer (because yes, a black blazer is very different than a navy, gray, or khaki blazer and requires a different set of detective skills), I came across Shipley & Halmos's Belgrade Blazer from Fall 2009. Cotton twill, cut slim without drawing comparisons to sausage casing, unexpected, yet cool slant pockets, and without vents, it felt like my sartorial aspirations were realized. It's the perfect seasonless piece that I could own forever, or until the next life-changing black blazer comes my way and with this blazer currently in my closet, I don't see that happening for some time.

the dreamers

Fashion month has officially ended. New York. London. Milan. Paris. Gone and on to the next season in February. What does it all mean? Does anyone really care? The relief is akin to coming down from a sugar rush or the feeling of elation after a really good film. It was all fun, fleeting, but over in a flash and it's on to the next thing. In Matt Tyrnauer's "Valentino: The Last Emperor" and RJ Cutler's "The September Issue" the vortex of fun, fleeting, and flash is looked at from a distance as if it were on display at a museum, which isn't necessarily a criticism, but maybe a reality of a business and art that's based on dream building and intangible ideas that are purely superficial with a glint of reality. The paradox in both films is that the audience is treated to the world "The Devil Wears Prada", but under the guise of it being a serious documentary, but is everything we're seeing serious? Weekend getaways in Gstaad and tennis games with Louis Vuitton carry alls is not exactly serious material. Maybe that's not the point, but "Valentino" and "September Issue" raise interest issues of beauty, access, wealth, power, and the factory of dreams that is film and fashion.

The first thing to note about both films is that neither is terribly great, but good in ways that were perhaps unintended. They're reasonably entertaining portraits of a world most are unfamiliar with and for those that are familair with, the world seems even more glamorous, immediate, and tantalizing. For those who are fashion obsessed these two documentaries are the equivalent of Holly Golightly standing in front of Tiffany's on an early morning midtown rise. The dream of fashion is within reach, yet still has the distance that makes it so appealing. Exclusive with the promise of inclusive. Cinematically speaking both films look flat, with the exception of a wonderfully quiet moment in "The September Issue" with Grace Coddington in Versailles looking pensively into the distance as her mass of flame colored hair blows in the wind. What does work and what makes them such engaging films is their depiction of class, wealth, and power. Valentino Garavani and Anna Wintour are living high above in the proverbial Ayn Rand tower, doling out glamour, beauty, and illusion of wealth. Whether that's a dangerous threshold of power to have, where would we be without Valentino red or knowing how to mix and match designer labels? The arbiters of fashion teach us how to dress and essentially live. If we are what we eat, then we are also most certainly what we wear.

"The Devil Wears Prada" is an interesting turning point for a lot of things. Meryl Streep's unstoppable career was solidified with David Frankel's farce of fashion and work place antics. It makes you wonder why the wealth of important leading roles aren't going to Streep's contemporaries like Diane Keaton, Jill Clayburgh, Jane Fonda, and Sally Field, who are either stuck in romantic comedy film hell as the unattractive mother in law or some dreadful television serial. It was also the first major summer movie in the 2000's that connected to women that didn't rely on the star 90's big names Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan, Sandra Bullock, or Demi Moore, nor their unsuccessful next in line replacements like Reese Witherspoon, Jessica Biel, or Jessica Alba. I'm not sure it made a star out of Anne Hathaway, but it sure promised. It was also film about full on fashion. The numerous costume change sequences, the coat and bag throwing sequences, the inevitable gala sequence in which we see the stars all gussied up. Living in a post-"Sex in the City", fashion obsessed blogosphere, and celebrities as models world, fashion is enjoying a bit of a pop cultural zeitgeist moment. "The Devil Wears Prada" was at the right place at the right time and said something about fashion that had not quite been articulated before. One of the best scenes in the film is when Anne Hathaway's character naively claims fashion is just fashion. Not important. Not real. Not influential. Streep in only the way someone who has played everything from Woody Allen's lesbian ex-wife to Julia Child, gives a fantastic speech about how the blue sweater Hathaway's character is wearing is the result of the carefully crafted minds of magazine editors and high fashion designers who set the trends that trickle down to the affordable clothing most people who think they don't know or care about fashion, are actually just as complicit in fashion as those that pay thousands of dollars for over the knee boots and 80's revival mini-dresses. It's an excellent point that drives "Valentino" and "The September Issue." We laugh at the pugs wearing diamond earrings in the excessive world of Valentino set to the unironic tune of Nino Rota's score from "La Dolca Vita" or find the caricatures of the fashion magazine industry endlessly compelling for their one liners and seemingly religious dedication to their artifice, but as Streep articulates, everyone participates in fashion whether they're aware or not. The worlds of these two documentaries present the extreme side of fashion, but it's the extreme that feeds and influences the mainstream. Dream, beauty, money, power, rinse and repeat.

Beyond the influence of trends and the power of decisions and money, "Valentino" and "The September Issue" also try to penetrate the two very guarded people that once the lights go up and the credits roll, I wasn't entirely convinced I knew them better or more intimately, but the attempt is honorable and there are scenes in both films that are more revealing than perhaps intended. In "Valentino", Mr. Valentino gleefully recounts his childhood spent watching American movies of the 30's and 40's that present glamour with such unashamed joy and exuberance. Diluted isn't the right word and too harsh to describe the state of euphoria Valentino seems to be in and live in, but his work became his life and that parade of red dresses was not only the red carpet but also his real life. It's a rare way to live, but to Valentino it's the world he's created and it's the world the movie wants its audience to be seduced by in the same way it has seduced Valentino. Does the movie tell us anything about his family? No. Do we learn about a hidden softer side? Not entirely. Do we care? Why would we when his life is an endless platter of pretty dresses, pretty people, and really good parties? One of the film's great scenes finds Valentino frustrated by the creative control of not only his upcoming ready to wear collection, which would be one of his last, and the filmmakers capturing his world in between the not so controlled moments. He throws a fit like a child that he isn't being filmed enough or in the right way and that the hair tests on the models is nothing like he imagined. Perhaps Valentino has bought into his own dream too much. Can he always be the star in his own show in the way the women he adores from a bygone film era once were? It's humorous and ultimately human.

When a film includes one of its characters exclaiming, "My eyes are starved! There's a famine of beauty! A famine of beauty, honey!" you might not expect to glean much from the work other than there are some in this world that truly believe there is a famine of beauty. RJ Cutler's "The September Issue" is a film that is primarily about trying to penetrate the impenetrable. Cutler was graciously given access to the inner works of the offices of Vogue magazine, but the best scenes take place outside of the magazine in worlds in which viewers have never seen before. Early in the film, Wintour attends a breakfast meeting with the retailers from top department stores like Barneys, Bergdorf Goodman, and Saks, in which her vision of the upcoming trends for the season are considered very seriously in terms of what the buyers will put on their floor. Essentially, Wintour will decide on the blue sweater that ends up in the discount bin we will all purchase. Everything comes back to "Devil Wears Prada" so it seems. Another scene worth mentioning is when Cutler probes Wintour about her family. She cautiously and carefully describes how different her profession is compared to the work of her siblings who work in public service and more tangibly significant work. You get the sense that Wintour loves what she does and understands its importance, but maybe she recognizes the dreams she creates with Vogue are in fact dreams. Although fashion evolves and yet cyclical in the same breath, there is an end. Dreams only last as long as we're asleep. Film only lasts for its running time and fashion only lasts each season. The money, the influence, and the honest passion of those in the fashion industry are illuminated in "Valentino" and "The September Issue", and that's what sticks. In that context, the clothes are the eye candy to gorge on for an hour and a half, but after the sugar rush is over, these films leave traces of the realities of an industry easily lampooned, but as Streep says at the end of "Devil Wears Prada", it's a world that everybody wants to be a part of.

the coat

Billy Reid
Peacoat, $675
The air is a little more crisp this week, which means the oppressive heat of summer is behind us and fall/winter is starting to settle in. It's not cold enough to break out the heavier outerwear yet, but when that day comes I want to be prepared with this Billy Reid peacoat. Made in Italy with a high quality wool and an impeccable fit, it's the embodiment of an "investment piece." That might be a big buzz phrase for the current trend of reinterpreted classics, but what's good is good and this is a fine piece of outerwear.

the return

Fitted Chambray Button Down Shirt, $44.50
1969 Premium Jeans: The Straight Fit, $54.50
Gap
I remember the first thing I ever bought at the Gap. It was the summer before freshman year of high school and I had a job of which I spent every penny on nothing but clothes, candy, movies, and magazines. That doesn't sound too far off from how I spend my money as an adult, but I remember really saving my pennies to finally make the pilgrimage to the brand that defined a decade. Minimalist, straight forward classics, and accessible for everyone, Gap was good in its prime. Before American Apparel they were the go to go brand for the perfect basic t-shirt and before designer denim really took off in the late 90's and early 00's, the cool mid-range jeans to own were Gap. I went for the summer basics for my first purchase: a tomato red pique polo and a white t-shirt with a black and gray stripe that ran horizontally on the chest. I paid full price and felt very accomplished. That was then and now I rarely fall into the Gap. My attention has returned to the brand in the past couple of years with the appointment of Patrick Robinson as creative director, but can one man re-invent the wheel? With the re-design of their denim category, it's a strong possibility.

Gap has smartly hyped the return to fit for their denim. The emphasis on fit, cut, premium denim treatment, but at an accessible price point has led Robinson to declare Gap jeans to be the "best-fitting jeans in the world." That's a bit of a stretch, but they're certainly better than what I remembered. I went to the Gap last weekend and tried on the Straight and Authentic fits. I went with the Straight fit because it embodies everything I want out of a jean. They're slim cut but not super skinny, very comfortable in the seat, and have a good weight to them without feeling like I'm wearing a big bulky pair of pants. I went with a traditional dark wash, but I would certainly want them in black and gray, of which they're not available. The rest of the men's apparel wasn't terribly interesting with the exception of a denim chambray button down. It's light and treated to feel like you've owned it forever and it has a nice trim cut. Robinson is on his way to making Gap covetable again, but I hope if he can fit another Bill Withers song into the mix.

the jacket

Washed Leather Jacket
Tim Hamilton, $2000 (originally)
It might not be leather jacket weather, but I'm on the hunt for one to sport this fall. I went to the Tim Hamilton sample sale today and I came across this beauty. It was on sale for $400, which is a bit steep, but for a jacket with such thoughtful and functional design, I'd be willing to pay just about anything. I especially like this style because of it's easy, clean lines and zipper details. The leather was so soft and rich that I considered it for a moment, but these are tough times for everybody, so I only made off with a button down. Oh well, the search shall continue...

blockhead

Marni
Spring/Summer 2010
Easy, without pretense, sublime. Something to look forward to next spring...

the quiet belgian

Photography by Alex Salinas
for Veronique Branquinho
Sadly, another designer bites the dust. It wasn't until recently that I came to appreciate Veronique Branquinho. I always thought she was too esoteric or too..tortured Belgian artist, but her Spring 09 show seemed to capture that feeling of a light ocean mist against your face while digging your toes on a sandy beach. It's practically summer and isn't that exactly what we want our clothes to make us feel like?

the look

Avedon Fashion
1944-2000
International Center of Photography
The lines, the composition, the glamour, the sex, the energy--what more could you want?

carnal knowledge

Suzy Parker and Mike Nichols
photographed by Richard Avedon
Harper's Bazaar, 1962
The Steve McQueen book I wanted for Christmas? Yeah, I own that now. What's next? I want the Richard Avedon book, Performance. It has one of my favorite editorials, Suzy Parker and a young Mike Nichols as a Liz and Dick. There's something so cool and slick about the two of them. Once again, Avedon rules.

lazy sunday

Standard Button Down in Grey Check
Patrik Ervell Spring/Summer 09
The Patrik Ervell sample sale was the perfect tonic to a Sunday that drifted by ever so sluggishly. Maybe I do like this guy.

"we've got to start the show in ten minutes!"

Backstage at rag & bone F/W 2009
photographed by Eric Ray Davidson
I was about two feet away from this circus. Fashion shows are everything you want them to be--surreal, unreal, and gone in a flash. Congratulations to Marcus and David and everybody at the M. Steele HQ for putting on an amazing show that can be described in three words: off the chain.

the high priest

Rick Owens
Fall/Winter 2009
Doesn't this remind you of "The Matrix" with a little bit of "The Flowers of St. Francis"? An excellent menswear runway debut for Rick Owens.

he's got legs

Maison Martin Margiela
Look 20 from Spring/Summer 2009
$2,500
These leggings hit me smack in the face as I came off the elevator on the third floor at Barneys the other week. It's a bold look and I wonder what kind of man it takes to where those black mirror ball pants. And more importantly, what kind of man can afford them in these times?

the sartorialists: the three best dressed women of 2008 pt. 3

Michelle Obama, lawyer, HBIC, mother
and soon-to-be First Lady of the United States of America
What other public figure this year drew so much attention for a simple color choice? Did the purple represent the unity between the red states and blue states? Royalty? Supremacy? Whatever it meant, Michelle looked good and it was the iconic moment in which Michelle Obama became the stylish anti-politician's wife (for the better, of course). Michelle Obama's purple Maria Pinto sheath with Azzedine Alaïa belt and gumball size pearl necklace that she wore during the primary's was an idiosyncratic and bold breath of fresh air that is so rarely seen in such a world of dull style and personality free dressing. Michelle understands what works for her and complements her tall, toned figure with sheath dresses and suits with lean, mean lines. Favoring American designers like Narciso Rodriguez, Jason Wu, and Thakoon as well as lower priced lines like J. Crew and H&M, Michelle embodies American modern glamour for those who can appreciate the high/low dichotomy that works for every budget. Change is everywhere this year and Michelle's sartorial choices have changed the game completely.

you don't know my name

"Movie Stills"
photographed by Peter Lindbergh
Vogue Italia, December 2008
This one may be too easy, but it's time again for guess that movie inspired editorial. Remember that my respect for your film literacy is at stake here.