noir

Givenchy, Marni & Dries, from indomitable style seeker Garance.

into the abyss

Kazakh model Ruslana Korshunova fell to her death from a NY apartment this weekend. She would have been 21 on Wednesday.

It is difficult to keep track of all the models who appear from Eastern Europe each year, but Ruslana has stuck in my mind since I first saw her in this Mario Sorrenti editorial due to her name (I'm a fan of Pushkin's poems), and knee length rapunzel hair. The print version of her Nina Ricci fragrance ad (below) is currently pasted on a billboard across from my work. I think of her every day as I pass it.

My heart goes out to her family. What a tragic loss.

assemblage des chapeaux

Another hat display idea, this one from Kris Van Assche at last year's Pitti Uomo fair. My apartment is too small to make this work, but I like the look of hats floating above the ancient Medici stables.

via simply olive

walk this way

Desperately needing a historical fashion hit before work, I stopped by Sonia Bata's shoe museum to see a few treasures from her archives. Here are the highlights...

The first time I saw a pair of chopines was on Catherine McCormack in her portrayal of 16th century courtesan Veronica Franco (a film which, along with La Reine Margot, occupied pretty much all of my 11th year) . Well preserved fashions from before the 1700s are so rare that I had never hoped to see a pair of chopines with original embellishments intact, but I lucked into this silk and velvet pair from 1580-1620. I particularly like the studs decorating the base.

Chopines were very popular in Venice and Spain during the Renaissance, but it is difficult to get a glimpse of them in paintings because legs and feet were forbidden from sight. The women wearing them simply look very tall - for example, this Genoese Noblewoman is wearing chopines. A “scandalous” engraving with moveable skirt from a 16th century fashion book gives a better idea of what chopines looked like in a regular ensemble:

Some chopines were highly impractical, reaching heights of over twenty inches (at which point, similar to Chinese women who underwent footbinding, an attendant was required to help them move), but others were lower, and patrician women (as well as the “cortigiana onesta”, or intellectual courtesans) spent hours learning to walk and dance in them gracefully.

Next, slap-soled shoes belonging to Frances Walsingham, lady in waiting to Elizabeth I, and daughter of her spymaster, Francis Walsingham. Though the shoes belong to a Canadian collector, they are considered so important to British history that they have to be returned to England soon.

In 17th century Europe, tulips were an exotic, luxury item that indicated high status. Variegated tulips (the kind embroidered here) were the most valuable, with a single bulb costing more than the average person made in 5 years. These mules would have been worn by a young, very rich fashionista.

Silk, embroidered shoes from the mid 1700s - England and France.

Printed leather was all the rage for women's footwear at the end of the 18th century. This pair was made in London in the 1790s- without seeing the label, I would never have guessed that they were so old! I like the polka dots and ribbon detail.

Ornate kilm silk flats with silk tassels. England, c. 1860.

Black satin boots with a "Louis heel", embroidered with typically fashionable Victorian subjects – botanicals and peacocks. Designed by Meliès, c. 1880-1885.

Pink silk shoes with straight soles owned by the first wife of Count Walewski (Napoleon's son). They were made by famed French cordonnier Melnotte in 1830.

Shoes with ribbon appliqué worn by Queen Victoria in 1840.

I love Adelaides. As a devout bootist, I like to imagine that my name is derived from this grandmother of the go-go. Adelaides were brought into fashion to preserve the modesty of ladies whose crinolines were jostled and swayed up to reveal a bit of leg. This beautifully embellished pair, however, was meant to attract attention. France, c. 1855.

More photos can be found on my flickr.

mascarpone millinery

This is not a food blog (though I enjoy my meals as much as my boots), but I wished to share with you my little egg of tiramisu.

I think it would make a good hat (of the fantastic, sculptural variety that upper class Brits wear to special events). A lady could cheer for her racing horse and snack on mascarpone cream at the same time.

campaign trail

Laetitia Casta, my lifelong favourite model, was photographed for Louis Vuitton at Pont Neuf earlier this week. Eva Herzigova is the face of LV's fall campaign, so I wonder what the photos are for?...

Laetitia was also at YSL's funeral today in Paris.

photos via fash

what's up pussycat?

Street fashion is going feline.

(from top left, stockholm, munich, mexico)

mad hattress

Interior decorating, vintage enthusiast style.

I'm trying to find a way to display my vintage hats, purses, shoe buckles etc without creating clutter in a very small apartment, or frightening away male visitors (albeit the majority of them are gay men who are more likely to borrow the accessories for a night out).

When my [straight] uncle stopped by the apartment for the first time, he stood speechless in the main room, staring around in thinly disguised horror at the pink, silk, chandelieriness of it all, finally uttering: "holy chick house". At the time, I took it as a compliment, but now I'm working on creating some contrast - Demeulemeester biker boots balancing out 1940s floral headpiece, urban graffiti interspersed with Millais's Pre-Raphaelites, pink curtains making way for Indian fabrics and so on. Off to IKEA for storage ideas this weekend. I'll post photos if my mission is successful.

P.S. Chanced upon this stellar feather hat worn in a magazine last fall (there is a shop in Toronto that lends out vintage pieces to movies and magazine shoots). I dream of finding that beautiful Galliano suit Ana is wearing next...

wings of concrete

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above
Enjoy such liberty.

- Richard Lovelace, 1642

Angel graffiti in St. James Town, Toronto.

adieu, yves

1936 - 2008

midnight at the museum

Haven't seen the movie, but I have seen The Horse Fair painting that SJP and Chris Noth pose in front of for the Sex and the City Vogue shoot. This dress by Narciso Rodriguez steals the show for me. Not since Roland Mouret's fall 05 collection has wool been so erotic.

Have you seen the movie? - what did you think?

fringe factor

Lately, I've been inspired by fringe. I love the flossy feel of it, and in particular, I love to dance in it (many hours have been spent watching 1920s film footage and practising Charleston-esque moves!) In the past, I considered fringe to be reserved for cowboys on Appaloosa horses, as well as the women in my family who wear lovingly custom-designed chaps and jackets on their motorcycles. As with any type of decoration, I still think that fringe is most attractive in moderation (unless you're dancing to smoking hot jazz, when more is definitely more), but I hope to see a touch of show girl on the streets this summer. If you're looking for DIY inspiration, Svenja Specht's spring collection for Reality Studio was influenced by a trip to Morocco, and features fringed accessories (the head decorations above are my favourite). If you really want to make people's eyes pop, you may be interested in the Roxy tights by bebaroque - with the lauding of Susie Bubble and Queen Michelle, I'm sure to see some fringed legs in the UK this fall.

A little gratuitous fringe action to get you in the mood...

(pink tights photo by Saga)

meretrix mehndi

Setting- Paying for newspapers at a market stand.

Guy: Hey, I like your mehndi.

Me: Thanks.

Guy: I tried it once. On my back.

Me: Cool.

Guy: It reminds me of what's-her-name... um... you know. Red hair. In the bible. Jesus's girlfriend.

Me: Mary Magdalene?

Guy: Yeah! You look like her.

dust thou art...

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

>> I noticed this poem taped to the side of a telephone pole while exploring Portland. Below T.S. Eliot's memorable lines was a date for a fashion show. On the other side of the card, a pale young woman posed in a tattered white dress. Above her was the word "dust".

Curious, I did some research but couldn't find anything online. Later, I discovered Seaplane, an independent design collective founded and run by Kathryn Towers and Holly Stalder, which reps 40+ designers in the Portland area. It turns out that Dust is the brainchild of Julia Blackburn, who says she is interested in creating a story through "highly textual meditations rendered in fabric". The garments in her spring collection have a deconstructed feel, many with exposed seams and ripped edges. Each piece is handmade and features unique details in the form of found objects.

In keeping with my current lust for rough edges (1, 2), this dress caught my attention... I want to wear it with long green earrings and stack heeled boots, laced up to the knee.

There is no website for Dust yet, but samples of Blackburn's work are up on flickr. I am looking forward to seeing what direction her designs take for the colder months.

vancouver + seattle + portland

Walking around Vancouver is one of my favourite things in the world. The closeness of the mountains and ocean, as well as the abundance of cherry blossom trees (and sushi bars) make me feel like I'm in a Japanese dream world. Sometimes, when the streets are quiet, I half expect a geisha to appear.

I'm lucky to have friends with a gorgeously located house. This is the view from my top window.

The first place I like to go after sushi and visiting is South Main St. at 21st Ave., a little district called SoMa. If you see a red wolf stencil, you're in the right place.

These few blocks are packed with everything from vintage to eco to A.P.C. I recommend Front & Company for lightly worn secondhand clothing worthy of the most discerning, cash strapped sartorialiste (the window displays, which range from corsets to wedding cakes are worth a visit alone). Smoking Lily has the best, eccentric screen prints, and Eugene Choo carries Canadian labels with a few Eurocult brands thrown in.

Sailing to Victoria:

After lunch, Hans and Frans swam over to say hello at the dock.

(they were provided with bits of fish from the marina freezer)

Sleeping seal.

There is a lot more in the way of beavers and biking in Victoria than activities for an urban bootist such as myself, but the street signs were amusing (many were named after obscure, unpronounceable English towns), and emu eggs were available for breakfast:

The trees resembled Afghan hounds:

And the sidewalks were studded with amethyst coloured stone.

Next stop Seattle.

Stayed at the Ace:

Cafés and shops open later on the West coast than I am used to (probably because it tends to be grey and rainy until noon), so I spent the mornings searching for graffiti on empty streets.

Met the lovely Jasmine from Pike/Pine on Capitol Hill and then headed north to Fremont where Impulse lives.

I've wanted to see this boutique for a long time, and it was well worth the trip, although I'll have to wait for a sale before purchasing any of the items I yearn for. As always, I am most entranced with details on clothing, so this jacket and dress by Mayle will be top on my list if that sale comes along...

Wandered into an out of this world, I-must-be-dreaming type vintage store called Private Screening near Impulse and spent over an hour going through their stock of gowns from the 1890s - 1910s (they had masses of stuff from more recent decades, but I collect items from the older periods). Everything was reasonably priced and I left with a long bias cut dress from the 1930s which I will post as soon as I've found the right slip for it.

Later, I had the great pleasure of finally meeting Ailsa of I Hate Generic. In our post-lunch quest for mojitos, we walked all the way up Queen Anne Hill (something I do not advise anyone to do in high heels!)

She also showed me the monolithic bronze of Lenin, strangely placed in the heart of Fremont.

(The statue has an interesting history)

Stopped at Pike Place Market on the drive out of town.

The fish mongers were fantastic. They shout and toss their produce around as they work. If you're young and female and get too close (ie to take a photo), they may throw squidly bits at you.

After the spectacle of flying fish came flowers - I've never seen so many blooms in my life. The stalls seemed to go on for miles, each seeming more colourful than the last.

Miss Mary Mack would have a field day at this button stall.

These decorative chili pepper bundles made me think of India, where drivers tied strings of chilis and limes to their vehicles to ward off evil spirits.

Funky sign.

A toy shop. I loved this two headed dragon with lounging cat.

Outside again.

Finn Heaven. If I lived in Seattle, I would stock up on their extensive selection of marimekko waterproof wear. However, as it rarely rains where I live, I opted to increase my collection of printed purses instead.

Glowing sea urchin lamps at the Seattle Art Museum (SAM).

The SAM shop was full of interior delights, including this set of cups that bring to mind Edgerton's milk drop coronet.

Across the street from SAM, The Forbidden Schwingdom and Chronicles of Nudia were playing. Kudos for creative titles.

The Experience Music Project, designed by Frank Gehry

Ace Hotel Portland

(the elevator)

My room. Like Hotel Fox in Copenhagen, the rooms are decorated by different artists. Each bed is kitted out with military surplus, and the room numbers are made by the suppliers of Portland's street signs. This Ace had much more character than the Seattle location.

Powell's Books, which occupies an entire city block, is one street over, and Portland's famous Voodoo Doughnut (and Wedding Chapel) is 10 minutes away. On the walk to get a morning "Dirty Snowball" doughnut, you will pass no less than four open strip clubs.

One of the highlights of Portland was Oblation Papers and Press, an exquisite letterpress print shop/paper boutique in the Pearl District. My first work experience came at my grandfather's print shop, and I've always been intrigued by the craft of old school printing. At Oblation, you can watch the staff operate centuries old presses and peruse an astonishing variety of paper products - they have everything from whimsical cards and stationery to miniature Eiffel Towers.

My walls at home are currently decorated with this paper:

Trekked up to Le Train Bleu, to see what the brick and mortar version of this favourite online boutique was like. The interior was graceful and distinctly art nouveau, however 95% of their sales are done online, so there was very little stock.

A few hours out of Portland (after scandalizing the old ladies at a truck stop Denny's with my high heeled boots- they took me for a hooker), I discovered the rather spectacular outlet malls just north of Seattle off the freeway. The Burberry store was swarming with Asian tourists, but lucky for me, the leftover shoe sizes were 11s. Happy days!

For more photos, please check my flickr.

there and back again

I'm back after a rocking west coast trip and straight into night shifts to recoup my travel bank. Photos will be up in the next few days.

P.S. I had the honour of meeting Jasmine from Pike/Pine on Capitol Hill last week- click for a photo (scroll down to 3/5/08).

wild wild west

I'm in Vancouver, Seattle and Portland this week. See you soon x

backless baroness

From French-Spanish label BaronBaronne. The rest is over here.

the structure of spring

La Garçonne (likely the first place I would go shopping upon winning the lottery) posted a short film today entitled Slate, which showcases the architectural features of dresses by H Chalayan, Heimstone and Vena Cava.

LIB reported last month that Heimstone's robe smoking was a disappointment, but I am experiencing extreme lust for Vena Cava's Ezra dress, which appears halfway through the film. Rough-edged layers just might be my theme of the year.

hit the ground running

Started off flying in a tiny plane from Toronto Island to New Jersey (much more fun than the direct route- it's cheaper, includes free cappuccinos, and the flight attendants wear blue pill box hats).

Landed at Newark and spent half an hour humming "Woke Up This Morning" by A3 while passing through the N. J. Turnpike and into the Lincoln Tunnel (Sopranos fans will understand).

Upon arrival in Greenwich Village, I dump my bag in the hotel room (perhaps more aptly described as a closet + sink, but who sleeps in NY anyway?) and dash out to explore the shops around Lower Fifth Avenue and Nolita. I restrict myself to window shopping only in Soho, but one day I'll treat myself...

After completing the annual spring stock up, I settle into a cafe by the very funky Parsons New School for Design, where I meet "Jamie the Giraffe" (below), admire the Vibskovish jumpers and colourful sneakers worn by male and female students alike, and pull out my notes to do some review for imminent finals.

Next on the list is Central Park to visit the horses, followed by the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The blog.mode exhibit caught me by surprise- I was saving it for last, but as I turned away from an immense stone sarcophagus in the Egyptian Wing, I found myself looking at Junya Watanabe's enormous honeycomb ruff, and a set of stairs leading downward.

Halfway down the stairs, past Galliano's crocodile dress, and Rei Kawakubo's highland getup (above), stood gowns by Yohji Yamamoto and Madame Grès (red and neutral) in all their exquisite, hand pleated glory. The two silver dresses are by Yeohlee Teng and Issey Miyake, respectively.

At the bottom of the stairs, I was notified that anyone taking pictures would be escorted out, so after getting busted trying to photograph the bodice of this Worth gown, I wandered around as innocently as possible, taking quick snaps whenever the maniacally anti-camera security were occupied elsewhere. As a result, there aren't as many photos as I had hoped (the hooded Alaïa sheath for example, and the Champs Elysées gown worn by Denise Poiret were stunning in person), but at least you can get an idea of the exhibit.

One of the earliest gowns was a blue Robe à la Française c. 1765, rumoured to descend from an Austrian lady in waiting to Marie Antoinette (15 years earlier, and it might have looked like this!).

Next is my favourite of the two; a similar design from c. 1775. I can just see Glenn Close in Dangerous Liaisons, wearing this (minus the modest neckerchief) and taking tea with Valmont: "I've always known I was meant to dominate your sex and avenge my own..."

The simple cotton day dresses at right are from one of my favourite periods in fashion history, the 1820s - 1830s. The summer dress with bustle is from the 1870s. I can't imagine how stifled those women must have felt. A steel crinoline with bustle pads in addition to a corset must have been unbearable in hot weather.Moving away from angelic and into sinful, here are the Parisian fetish boots that were second on my Met list next to the Oyster Gown. I wish I'd found something similar in my great grandmother's keepsake trunk! (alas Finns have a very different sense of style than the French). These thigh high boots are particularly exciting to fashion historians because of their avant garde stilletoe heel. High, tapered heels weren't introduced to mainstream women's fashion until after the War.

Detail of Philip Treacy's elaborate "Chinese Garden" headdress...

I'm not sure if she wore this particular Treacy creation, but it immediately brings to mind the late, irreplaceable Isabella Blow.

Vivienne Westwood's famous platforms...

The display case opposite showcased Olivier Theysken's swirling "L'Air du Temps" gown, one of the first he designed for Nina Ricci, and Vivienne Westwood's equally impressive pink "Propaganda" dress, which is constructed from one long, unbroken piece of silk, expertly draped around a boned bodice.

The L'Air du Temps gown looks very dark, but the crinkled ruffles are actually multiple shades of grey.

Last, but certainly not least, the Pièce de Résistance for this visitor: Alexander McQueen's Oyster Dress from 2003.

Sigh... The first McQueen gown with a "mille-feuille" layered skirt I ever saw was the pale pink one below worn by Liv Tyler in 2002. I was 15 then and I'm still obsessed with it (although I prefer the rough Oyster bodice to Liv's custom satin corset).

Next stop was the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA).

I'd just walked in when Natalia caught my eye. Her crocheted necklace and matching sweater were made by an aunt in Poland.

The museum cafe was like a German food market.

After tea with friends visiting from England, I set off to explore...

Around 6 o'clock, I met up with a friend to check out the discount department store Century 21 down in the Financial District (I'd heard the rumours and didn't have the stomach to go alone at the end of the day!).

The rumours were correct- the store was a packed, chaotic mess with rude staff, but the stock is worth a dig. I had to pass on a gorgeous Narciso Rodriguez bodice because even the discounted price was out of budget, but I ended up with a silk/cotton Filippa K top with geometric cutouts for $100 that I'd previously passed up in Copenhagen due to its $300 price tag. My friend commented that it reminded her of Aeon Flux, which made me very happy, not because the futuristic anti-heroine appears to have inspired the fall collections, but because 3 years on, I'm still a hopeless Aeon addict.

Very hungry at this point, we cabbed up to Kenka on St. Marks Place for grilled eel and ramen noodles (we considered, but passed on the bull testicles), and stocked up at a Japanese supermarket.

A day well spent!

For more photos, please check my flickr.