Astral Travelling

This divine collection first came to my attention last season. It is the mash-up of varying fabric patterns that provides the thrill.

No surprises, it has also come to the attention of the gorgeous Thea from Blonde Venus, Brisbane, Australia who will stock Peter Pilotto this season.

So, who is Peter Pilotto? Peter Pilotto and Christopher De Vos are the designers behind the Peter Pilotto label. Pilotto is half-Austrian, half-Italian and De Vos is half-Belgian, half-Peruvian. They met whilst studying at Antwerp's prestigious Royal Academy of Fine Arts in the year 2000.

Is it my imagination, or is Anouck Lepere their muse? She seems to be constantly swathed in these fabulously trippy clothes.

Big question - are the clothes in store yet?

Down in the Valley

I recently jetted down to Sydney to see the new show “Uncanny Valley” by one of Australia’s most interesting artists, Hany Armanious (showing at Roxlyn Oxley 9 in Paddington throughout the month of April).

As Amanda Rowell writes in the press release, “Everything is not as it seems” and she means it. This show requires a constant visual adjustment as you are repeatedly challenged to believe in what you see – what appears stone, is polystyrene, what appears metal, is gold, wood is resin and so on. It’s a mind fuck of the highest order.

So what does it all mean? Rowell explodes the mystery: “Uncanny Valley is a robotics term that describes the threshold crossed when a robot has become so lifelike in its appearance as to be almost indistinguishable from its human model, precipitating a sudden drop – on the graph – in the hitherto increasing levels of empathy of the human toward the humanoid.”

There are constant tricks and turns of order: Lagerfeld is a maker of models, a bare plinth is an object of worship ... it is a spiritual, historical, witty labyrinthical world Armanious conjures up for us to behold.

As Adam Jasper boldly asserts in this month’s “Art World” magazine, Armanious “is the real deal”. But, how do we know? What is he made of? Do androids dream of electric sheep?

Mcqueen v Bowery

Bravo, thank god and hallelujah. Finally, a collection that has blown us out of the proverbial fashion water. Alexander McQueen does it again for Fall 2009.

Yes, the show could be deemed misogynistic with its models as blow up dolls and sex fetish gear (a la Leigh Bowery and lately, Boy George in his own homage to Bowery), but take away the trimmings and these are amazing suits and dresses – what an artist! While Karl Lagerfeld languishes in occasionally adding an interesting styling slant or colour combo to a basic Chanel suit, McQueen continues to push our boundaries.

In a rather irritating conundrum, fashion both annoys and amazes me. Things deemed ghastly eventually become the norm which is rather irritating for those of us who like to look absurdly different from the majority that walk this earth.

During most of his career, underground performance artist Leigh Bowery, lived an unpopularist existence and only after his death were there major retrospectives of his work. Would he be turning in his grave as to how fashion is now “nicking” his look and rendering it acceptable? Isn't the point of being alternative, to remain that way, or is this the beauty of living in post-modern times: one gigantic mass of adaptation of ideas borne from others?

Now, where do I get myself a pair of those red lip thingies?

Dr What?

Can you spot the difference? I'm having trouble. Daleks aplenty versus Junya Wattanabe's effort for Fall 2009.

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.