En forståelse af hvordan nutidens designere prøve at dekonstruere den mandlige formelle garderobe. Spændende, måske man skulle købe det nye Dazed&Confused.
Sådan en stram blomstret top gad jeg egentlig godt have til mine meget brede Lanvin bukser.
Fashion Week A/W 10 har i den sidste stykke tid kørt over de fleste store og større modebyer, og jeg har ikke skrevet et dyt om det. Jeg er selv skuffet, dog ikke fordi jeg ikke har skrevet noget, men fordi jeg ikke har haft noget godt at skrive. Der har ikke været den der ene klokkeklare kollektion, der har fået mig komplet op at ringe. Jeg skal eje det hele! En af de få der tiltaler mig er Jil Sander. Har altid været en sucker for de små short suits og minimalismen. Det er moderne men uden at være prængende og holder sig langt væk fra at være sæsonbetonet, med key i-tems der er så tidsbestemte, at de kun holder i 3 mdr. Der har selvfølgelig været nogen looks i andre shows jeg har gabet lidt over, jeg kan forestille mig der kommer en post senere, men damn, hvad skal jeg drømme om den næste tid?
Billeder fra Jil Sander af Sonny Vandevelde
Så fik jeg endelige farvet mine atacoma. Resultatet er blevet fantastisk og jeg er glad for der ikke kom nogen farve på det fine lyse læder indvendigt. De er farvet en mørk mørk blå, så det er ret svært at fange dem på et billede hvor de ikke ser sorte ud. De er farvet med narvsværte og derefter har de fået en god omgang læderfedt for at holde på farven. Jeg har farvet en hel del ting før, især i den mørkeblå farve da jeg rigtig godt kan lide at min garderobe er i de samme farvetoner. <3
Igår blev jeg fanget af Copenhagen Street Style. Kan man ønske sig at blive fotogen i fødselsdagsgave? Måske jeg bare skulle ændre mit navn til Igor, jeg har min fotopersonlighed Igor. Igorbeau.com!
Hatte … Jeg har et ambivilent forhold til hatte. Jeg vil ekstremt gerne gå med dem, men jeg er ikke særlig god til det, for jeg ligner en hat med de fleste hatte på. Jeg har dog købt en russerhat, som jeg er meget glad for, men den er lidt svær at gå med, når det bliver varmere, hvad gør man så? Så kom jeg frem til at jeg er lidt hooked på en turban. Men hvis man har kort hår, ender man så med at ligne en kemopatient ligemeget hvilken turban man tager på? Jeg stod og legede med et tørklæde foran spejlet forleden, men det blev aldrig rigtigt, jeg er helt sikker på at det er tørklædets skyld.
Ved nærmere eftertanke, så har jeg vist ikke været så taktisk ved at sætte mig selv i ovenstående selskab…
Så blev jeg endelig klippet. Som altid gjorde Mike et fantastisk job. Nu vil jeg ind i min seng – for jeg er lidt utilpas og kogt i det. Håber en aften under dynen vil hjælpe.
Trøje fra COS og bukser fra Dries Van Noten.
Sakset fra A blog curated by. Super god artikel om en designer der desværre ikke lige gider mere.
October ’89. Paris. People talk about Martin Margiela who has presented his collection on a terrain vague. I am intrigued and attracted. Sounds alternative or underground. We hadn’t had that for a while.
Fall ’90. I visit the showroom. Everything is painted white, even the TV. Assimilation of a place as he found it. Don’t destroy what has already been lived through, introduce yourself. An attitude he applies as much to objects as to clothes. I feel at home.
Else, one of the members of the tight group around Margiela leads me in. I plunge into the collection, up close, and lose myself in the details. Forget the superficial. Respect it all. The linings are a fundamental part of the whole. Inside/outside. Men’s vests for women, dresses and skirts are long. Rectangles are tied around the hips. You wear them over your jeans. Folded they are the size of an envelope. The folds are part of the piece. Any shape of body can do it. Invent yourself. Show the fringing fibers of the material. No need to hide a cut in a hem. The five buttonholes on the sleeves are real. Play with them. This is not about pretending. It is about being. I am impressed.
March ’91. Presentation of the winter collection. Come over and have a drink. Women are dressed, prepared and made up all day long. They walk, stand, converse, come and go. There is a wide range of age and morphology. It feels human. I photograph. I fall in love with a deconstructed sweater. Upper body, hips and sleeves. Wear any of it separately if you want to. Ribbons are dropping from the central piece. You tie them around your torso. Ribbons are on skirts, inside jackets, on jabots. They decorate hands, are braided around fingers. Their function as elements of garments has evolved into ornaments for the body.
October ’91. Basic material: vintage scarves. Chosen, assembled, in their original shape they are sewn together, become skirts, shirts, tops knotted around the body. Touch anything and make it into something. The blue jeans painted all in white or all black (’91). Deviate the functions. The plastic bag T-shirt (’89), the sweater made of military socks (’91). While people are walking into the candle-lit metro-station to see his next performance Margiela continues the motifs and colors of the scarves onto the women’s bodies. Stripes, spots, squares, triangles are painted on arms, hands, legs, shoulders and chests. Don’t be limited by a fabric. Transgress and go further.
October ’92. Two different scenes. Same time. Concept (one of many): Jenny Meirens, the second, essential and one heart and mind of the company. Disorientation. People are angry. They can’t have it all. Color: white. The women walk barefoot through the crowds. A small branch of fresh green box leaves is hanging from their necks. Even their eyelashes are white. It is peaceful and strange. They look like Renaissance hippies of the future wearing dusty antique velvet and brocade jackets. The sleeves are too long as always, the shapes tight. The bodies seem totally at ease in their costumes. Woodstock revisited with Ophelia. Heavy metal bracelets decorate the upper arms. Later I hear the other show was all in black.
Spring ’93. New York. Downtown Manhattan. I walk into a coffee shop. A young man is leading me to the table. “Is this a Martin Margiela jacket?” “Yes it is.” “Oh, it is wonderful!” That was swift and sensitive, especially among a rushing crowd of hungry people. America. Undoubtedly he has become the hero. As for myself it adapts harmoniously to me and what is mine, which actually provokes occasional encounters with Margiela fans as if we were complicit mutants from that very special planet.
October ’93. Choose the best of five years, dye the whole thing, put it in an ex-supermarket and show it again. Interrupt the flux. Don’t go with it. Don’t feed the ferocious hunger. Resist. It works. I want a second set of every piece in grey. There is a structured thought behind every presentation. It is always intelligent.
March ’94. Barbie and Ken. Everything is proportionally enlarged from the holes in the stitches, the metal buttons to the seams, the hems and the zippers. Compose a collection of Barbie clothes, make them big, put them on human-size dummies, wrap a transparent plastic bag around their heads and stick black tape over their eyes. Barbie hardcore, refined version. Perfectly harmonious with pieces from any of the previous collections. Astonishing. It is rolling. No show. Only clients. Privacy. I feel good in the new showroom. Looks like an old hangar.
Additional group: an edition of old garments. Chosen, exactly reproduced and labeled. My favorite: the tailored jacket for men, Germany 1970 by Martin Margiela 1994. Double identity. First and second. Style reference: Serge Gainsbourg in the ‘70s. The collection will only be shown to the press and public six months later when it arrives in the shops. Courageous. Permanent attempt to break the routine and the established.
March ’95. Veils cover the women’s faces. They are walking between benches. The circus is packed. The record is scratched. Disorienting interruptus aspect of the show. The colors of the outfits change very subtly from black to brown to pink and hyper fuchsia. Zip an overall up your body from the ankle to the neck. Throw a fur collar over your T-shirt. Slide long leather sleeves up your arms. They were gloves before but the hands are gone. Music switch. Sixty-nine women take their veils off. Hundreds of fuchsia balloons travel on the wind back home with me.
Spring ’96. I am wearing a photographed coat, a coat of my photograph… Margiela recycles the recycled and himself. A picture of a vintage or a Margiela dress, of a jacket or a shirt is printed on a different fabric and on a different pattern. Self-appropriation. A woolen sweater becomes a nylon T-shirt. A heavy coat becomes a light one. A dress becomes another dress. The dress of a dress. If you have the original dress and the photographed dress, you have the same dress two times but not at all. Confusion. People want to touch the buttons but they can’t. Illusion.
October ’96. Men carry devices on long sticks to throw light beams on the women who walk in front of them. Illumination of the precious in the dark. Rhythmical motion in harmony. Black shadows are painted on the faces. Red lips smile along to show Hollywood-white painted teeth. Nylon stockings cover the shoes. Stocking outside, shoe inside. A plastic garment bag is recycled into a transparent raincoat. Don’t bother with the garment, wear the bag. Transparency. Protection? Emphatic sense of freedom and consideration for the body and its fragilities.
Sign: the first one in the zodiac. Persona: discretely very present, nearly never not working, tender, obsessed. Concern: Don’t look at me. Look at my work.
Martin Margiela, inevitably here and now.
Marina Faust, 1996.
Jeg glæder mig til at jeg skal klippes på torsdag. Sov sødt.
Billede fra The Ones2Watch.
Og jeg vil rigtig gerne eje en af de her Lanvin kæder. Jeg hælder mest til den sorte eller mørkeblå. Har bare fået lyst til at bidrage med noget feminimt til min relativt maskuline garderobe. Har en forestilling om at sådan en kæde vil se smuk ud til en helt alm crew-neck strik og et par bukser.
Kæderne er fundet på Net-a-Porter og Pollyanna.
