Marc Me

... with your creations.

I have not been moved quite as much by a fashion show since Marc Jacobs’ Autumn/Winter 2008 collection for Louis Vuitton featuring exaggerated sculptural shapes and high-rise platforms. This collection is all just so 'right', so ahead of the zeitgeist and that is no mean feat, even by Lagerfeld’s standards.

I am a devoted 80’s fan, but this takes the leg-o-mutton sleeves, high waists, prom skirts and day-glo colour schemes intrinsic to that period to a whole other level – a more sophisticated, intellectual, futuristic level. The latest offering from Marc’s eponymous label is a blast up the ass of ardent moaning, groaning recessionistas everywhere. As Marc himself said “What? Is all black going to help the economy”. Touché.

The colour (bottle green and hot pink are now foremost in my fashion mind), the shaping of those shoulders, the hint of rockabilly, the pompadour hair and the “Richard Sharah” dramatic make-up is, as an anonymous fashion editor has decreed, “A Flock of Seagulls meets Alexis Carrington”. Touché.

Hopefully, as in other impoverished times, people’s creativity will flourish just like Marc's has – god knows, that has been a key factor in the lives of many artists since the dawn of time.

Courier me the entire collection immediately!

Fashion Satan

Shivering with excitement to see "The September Issue" (Grand Jury Prize Winner, Sundance 2009) the new must see film for anyone remotely interested in fashion. In a real life "Devil Wears Prada" moment, the supposedly satanic American Vogue Editor, Anna Wintour allows unprecedented access to the world of, you guessed it, the creation of the September issue of American Vogue.

Sienna cops a sledging, Grace Coddington reveals some home truths about her 20 year working relationship with Anna and Andre Leon Talley performs (when does he not?). If that does not wet your appetite, then there is no need to read on.

I know American Vogue has seriously slipped off our fashion radar, unless you are a cliched waspy New Yorker gagging to see repetitive pics of Lauren Santo-Domingo or Birdie Bell (yawn) - why would you buy it when you have Italian Vogue (creative Bible) and Paris Vogue (doses of sex) - it will still bring out the fashion perve in all of us.

Let's hope it delves a tad deeper than the recent "Lagerfeld Confidential", which while a fun peep into his privileged yet somewhat isolated existence, really could have been longer and psychologically more intrusive - one felt the Kaiser's micro-management at play here - his answers were manicured to within an inch of their lives.

An early review from Variety indicates this may not the case:

"Some juicier behind-the-scenes drama and a more revealing examination of the creative process might have bulked up “The September Issue,” … but what remains is still a dishy and engrossing peek inside the fashion world’s corridors of power - every bit as slickly packaged as the publication it seeks to uncover - that should rivet couture enthusiasts in endless trips down the cable runway".

It makes me wonder why the fashion industry does not take itself more seriously in these documentaries (Catwalk etc) - I mean, this is a big business as Meryl Streep opined in her poignant lecture to Andy - full of amazing, creative, strategic and intelligent individuals (think, Hedi Slimane) who influence fashion on a global basis, so why not refrain from the gloss-up and get down and dirty on the tantrums and business aspects of the industry? But then I guess the glossy patina is the most valuable element in the spin-doctoring and fantasy world of fashion marketing and the skeleton of it all will subsequently be a no-go zone for mere mortals forever.

Come on Carine, how about a counter-film with David Lynch directing.

Cave Man

Jethro Cave - he can inhabit the dark spaces of my mind or closet anytime.

Just like Pappa Cave (Nick that is), he is stylish, beautiful, reed thin and a hyper-hip poser, as anyone who recently witnessed Cave and the Bad Seeds at All Tomorrow's Parties in Australia will testify to. Jethro first came to our modelling consciousness in his first gig at Australian Fashion Week for the launch of Maticevski and honestly, we thought he was merely dabbling at the time. Four years on and London-based, he now counts the likes of Balenciaga and I-D Magazine as fans.

This January 2009 Parisian collaboration between Hedi Slimane and Cave reminds me of how as teenagers, we used to get out the kohl pencil, rip up some thrift clothes and attempt to emulate Blondie and any other 80's semi-punk bands, all within the daggy confines of our high school bedrooms.

Hedi sure has his finger on the pulse that so permeates the X/Y Geners rediscovering the rock gods of our 80's time - it is no accident he retains the title of "fashion genius", long after he exited Dior Homme.

Goldfinger

No, not the Bond villain with a penchant for gold dipped hotties, but one of my favourite American architects, Myron Goldfinger.

I first stumbled across this incredible architect’s vision via a secondhand book purchased at Busy Bee’s Bookshop in Wellington, New Zealand about 4 years ago.

What strikes me about the work is that in our current time of architecture which endlessly draws from the natural beauty of Lloyd Wright and Schindler, Goldfinger offers a more futuristic, austere vision. From his website:

“Inspired by his investigations into Mediterranean vernacular architecture, Myron Goldfinger has produced a significant body of work in the last twenty-five years which reflects his deep appreciation of the past - not in the sense of borrowing - but of reinterpreting those elements into a most sophisticated use of strong geometric form in building. This work represents architecture as sculpture in space …”

Goldfinger brilliantly manages to pull off a daring Greek Island / Space 2001 sensibility alright - not to mention the incredible 80’s interiors whipped up by June Goldfinger (his wife) with their peach colour tones, mirrored walls and bulbous leather couches. It's housing for rock stars and porn kings with a penchant for minimalism.

Beam me up Scottie.