Alexander McQueen F/W 2011

With the "Savage Beauty" exhibition at the Met's Costume Institute, the wedding dress worn by Kate Middleton, among other dedications to the late Lee McQueen, it seems that even in death, the great designer's presence is no less felt. This is due in no small part to Sarah Burton's contributions to her mentor's fashion house. She has been praised by countless members of the fashion community for presenting a vision that is more feminine and approachable, all the while maintaining the McQueen DNA.

The Fall/Winter 2011 show, bearing the theme "The Ice Queen and her court," was a powerful presentation of Burton's personal touch, alongside the harder, tortured aesthetic that McQueen's work thrived on. Even the most pure and seemingly precious looks had their share of fight, whether it be shaved tulle on a skirt or long spikes coming out of wedge heels. This is a warrior queen, rather than one who spends the day lazing about. The beautiful helmet-like concentration of barrettes on each model, created by Guido Palau, further stressed this narrative, of a woman both ethereal and sovereign. The vast amount of fur incorporated into the collection provides for a feeling of ferocity and aggression that I find absolutely beautiful. The bondage elements are another highlight that (to me) reads as empowering. It's not that these women want to be tied up or dominated, but their choice to present themselves in this way shows power over one's body and sexual agency. The heavy emphasis on white garments might have come off as one-dimensional if created by another hand, but Burton and her team's attention to detail is absolutely extraordinary. The mosaic-esque bodice on Nimue Smit is a particular white-heavy standout in the realm of evening wear. Lest we forget McQueen's love of fantastical footwear, this season brought an array of incredible shoes, from the sexy lace-up variations to the black feathered wedges with metal plating. These serve as a reminder that McQueen's spirit and search for beauty was without limits. Just as the idea of beauty doesn't end with a dress (it may mean a head covered in barrettes or a fabulous pair of shoes), the same ideas of beauty don't end with what we think of as traditionally beautiful. Beauty can be found in the most horrifying of places, as McQueen asserted throughout his career. We must simply look with open eyes to find it.

Freja Beha Erichsen

Emily Baker

Daria Strokous

Julia Saner

Madelen de la Motte

Kinga Rajzak

Alana Zimmer

Shu Pei Qin

Karmen Pedaru

Lisanne De Jong

Sigrid Agren

Siri Tollerød

Mirte Maas


Nimue Smit

Patricia van der Vliet

Jac

Suvi Koponen

Frida Gustavsson

Kirsi Pyrhonen

Photos via style.com

We are stardust, we are golden

Almost there...

It's been a while since I've posted, as I've been busy with school. Classes for the quarter have come to an end and finals week has officially started, though I'm done with all but one test. This is a consolidation of the music that's been keeping me going. I'll let two of my favorite queens do the talking.

P.S. As you might have noticed, I've acquired a new banner. The photo itself was taken by my dear friend Gillian Spencer and edited in part by each of us. I'm so tech-savvy that I used Paint to place the text over the image. Very fancy, no? To Gill, thank you for the lovely images, doing my makeup (as always), and for being patient with me rolling around in my bed for an extended period of time.

Givenchy

As his work tends to be, Riccardo Tisci's latest collection for Givenchy was more of an assemblage of ideas than a linear narrative. In his case, this is not problematic, but rather intellectually stimulating. You're meant to think about the ideas and how they may relate, instead of having a story spoon-fed to you. Rather undeniably it was sexy and strong, but it was not straightforward. There was wonderful bits of playfulness and humor mixed in. A panther motif appealed to the darker, more powerful senses, looking especially desirable in inventively cut, partially sheer skirts. In contrast was the orchid prints that were delicate in comparison. Then came the pinup queen, Bettie Page and Baroque madness that resembled one of the late Gianni Versace's trademarks. The Page prints carried a camp along with the sexiness, while the Baroque prints were decidedly playful in their obtrusiveness. A vast array of fabric including velvet, fur, leather, and PVC contributed to the wonderfully mixed nature of the collection. Varsity jackets (the most desirable in PVC) took place alongside ruffled skirts in what is a far cry from any high school cheerleader known to man. I hate to make that connection, but there was an element of sport, no matter how subverted it was. This was perhaps most visible in the form of baseball cap-like hats, complete with ears. What I found most thrilling about the collection was the silhouette. The sheer skirt underneath a solid skirt absolutely blew my mind. That seems rather slight to cause such a stir, but it looks amazing and is assertively modern, revealing the leg in an highly inventive way. The latter parts of the collection were a Baroque free-for-all, piecing it all together, with Karen Elson closing the show in a sweatshirt with printed sleeves and a sheer midsection, revealing a punchy black bra. This finale piece ultimately reflected what I believe to be Tisci's vision of a complex woman. She is delicate and ferocious and painfully sexy, with a tongue-in-cheek sense of human. She can be anything and everything.

Alyona Subbotina


Elsa Sylvan


Valerija Kelava


Liu Wen


Caterina Ravaglia


Karmen Pedaru


Aline Weber


Kasia Struss


Frankie Rayer


Freja Beha Erichsen


Alla Kostomichova


Joan Smalls


Querelle Jansen


Natasha Poly


Mariacarla Boscono


Saskia de Brauw


Lydia Willemina Collins


Lea T.


Kinga Rajzak


Natalia Vodianova


Karen Elson


Photos via style.com

HAIR.

Lady Gaga's release of the song "Hair" just happened to coincide with my birthday today. This is probably the song I've been most looking forward to hearing. My hair is integral to my visual identity and the way I express myself, so naturally I was captured by the premise of the song. Various bits of revealed lyrics built up an excitement and finally came the unintentional birthday present.

As of now, I like the song, but I'm not crazy about it yet. Perhaps this is because it's a lot different than what I was expecting, but that's never necessarily a bad thing. I definitely need to feel it out a bit more though. I love the idea of the song so much that I just hope I won't be let down.

"I've had enough, this is my prayer, that I'll die living just as free as my hair."

Haider Ackermann

You will have to excuse my lack of presence as of late. I've been feeling rather off and not all that capable of producing writing to be proud of. Or at least I have had that mindset. Anyway, I am going to try my best to finish posts from the Fall/Winter 2011 season in a timely fashion.

My awareness of Haider Ackermann is a rather recent development that I would guess is no more than two seasons old. His Spring/Summer 2011 collection in particular saw a wave of praise from all avenues of the fashion press. He has even been rumored to be one of the candidates that will take the helm of Dior. The attention is much deserved, as his talent is seemingly limitless. His Fall/Winter 2011 collection is fantastic to say the least. Ackermann's skill for folding and draping his creations is at work again, contributing to a somehow perfectly worked woman undone. His aesthetic is unlike any designer that I know of. This collection gave rise to a rather otherworldly kind of woman. Subdued, even moody jewel tones are a major emphasis of the collection. There's a darkness to the color that is indescribable and absolutely beautiful. Aggressively sexy cutout skirts that expose thighs and the few beaded pieces are elements that challenge the darkness that is so palpable. It's this kind of contradiction and Ackermann's interest in the fusion of ideas in silhouette and elsewhere, that make him such an inspiring creator. Looking at the images from the show, I am filled with a great deal of feeling that isn't specifically negative or positive. It's quite powerful. Ackermann's uncompromising vision and innately modern perspective will surely be provoking feeling and thought for many seasons to come.

Daiane Conterato

Delfine Bafort

Milou van Groesen

Daria Strokous

Kasia Struss

Maddie Kulicka

Martyna Budna

Karmen Pedaru

Frida Gustavsson

Freja Beha Erichsen

Kristy Kaurova

Marike Le Roux

Kinga Rajzak

Olga Sherer

Misha Parkosz

Ataui Deng

Sigrid Agren

Kasia Struss

Photos via style.com

Won't you come on over?

A void continues to expand in my heart (or at least my musical vocabulary) as Amy Winehouse continues to exist off the radar. I don't mean to say I am in desperate need of gossip regarding the tortured singer, but that I miss her music dearly. To be sure, her albums Frank and Back to Black are still powerful and absolute magic, but I can't help but to crave what may or may not come next. I've seen a few mentions in the press about her working on an upcoming album, but I'm trying to avoid getting my hopes too high. In a moment within nearly endless hours of dancing last night, Michael Jackson's "Beat It" reminded me of a live cover by Charlotte Church and Winehouse that I have held in my heart for a long time. It's certainly not her best performance technically speaking, with slurred wailing standing in stark contrast to Church's crisp and soulful voice, but I love it nonetheless. There's something fantastic about the ying and yang aspect to the performance, which is even apparent in the way the two women carry themselves. Another few performances demonstrate the undeniable and unconventional beauty of Amy's voice. Enjoy kids.










"Stop making a fool out of me..."

Heartbreak and then some.

I am an avid Beth Ditto/Gossip fan. From the newest Gossip album Music For Men, to genius covers of Aalyiha ("Are you that Somebody?") and George Michael ("Careless Whisper"), to the older Standing in the Way of Control, I have yet to be let down by the hurricane-like voice of the frontwoman. Seeing the Gossip in concert in October of 2009 was nothing short of life-changing. The woman even shoved a microphone in my face during "Standing in the Way of Control", which was met with a voice wrought by howling along the whole night. That may or may not be comparable to giving Beth Ditto head. But moving on...

Ditto has just released an EP and I was lucky enough to see one of the songs—"I Wrote the Book"—was featured as a free single on iTues. It's a bit more electronic than her work with the Gossip, a bit similar to "Cruel Intentions" (a song she did with Simian Mobile Disco), with a retro dance beat and lyrics made for a troublemaker ("I wrote the book on it, don't test me"). The video is equally fabulous with obvious references to another favorite lady of mine, Madonna, and her "Justify My Love" video. On top of that, there is enough vogueing to send me into a euphoric seizure.

Consider my love justified.

I don't speak your language, oh no.

It seems to me that speaking "Americano" is equivalent to "drinking the Kool-aid." There are some who speak Americano and some who do not. As Americans, we are expected to fall in line and perpetuate a propagandistic patriotism to a rather frightening extent. After the news of Bin Laden's death, my facebook feed was filled with celebratory expression and I found myself a bit sick. It seemed like there was a collective sense of bloodlust on the part of many of my peers and I was quite disturbed. Even President Obama's address left me a bit turned off, though I'm not sure he could have handled it differently. While I recognize the significance of the moment and the idea that justice has been served, I refuse to celebrate the death of another human being, no matter how cruel.

The next day, my friend Kim and I were chatting in the commons of UW's pristine new business building and a stranger interjected, asking us if we'd heard about Bin Laden. He was probably in his 40's or 50's and had experienced 9/11 as a longtime New Yorker. He described that day and inquired about our experiences as 5th graders hearing such news. The conversation was lengthy, but it seemed that even he was left with an odd sense of disturbance, that this death was not being handled properly. Our consensus was that of feeling jarred and uncomfortable about the perpetuation of hate we had witnessed.

Today in my Art History class, which centers around themes of empire and colonialism, the topic was appropriately discussed. A variety of opinions were expressed, but a level of respect was maintained. I was particularly taken with something a classmate from Bangladesh said. Plainly she stated, "I'm not going to celebrate, but I'm glad he is dead," emphasizing the shadow he has cast over the Muslim faith. I found her point of view to be incredibly valuable. I feel as if I still do not fully understand what this event means to me, but I still maintain my distaste for the bloodlust and hate masked as patriotism.

A fantastic article (from the Huffington Post, oddly enough) is in my mind, a necessary read. Pamela Gerloff realistically addresses the situation, but is unwavering in her opinion. And because she has so gracefully articulated her thoughts—not all that dissimilar to mine—I'll just leave it at that.

GIVE PEACE A CHANCE

LikeItHateIt

What I would give to sit in bed and talk to John and Yoko...

I don't speak your Americano.

In a surprise performance at the Monster Ball in Guadalajara, Mexico, Lady Gaga debuted "Americano" acoustically. As far as I understand it (and interpret it), the song is about the injustice seen within issues of immigration, but I think it could be generally applied to the superiority complex of our great nation. Unfortunately, a sense of entitlement and unrestricted obtrusiveness is an integral part of America's vocabulary. It seems all too appropriate with the grand celebrations following Bin Laden's death and the "AMERICA!" mentality exercised as a result. The energy of the audience, along with the powerful acoustic sound provides for an electrifying performance.

And I thought I needed a coffee to stay up all night...

Update: The previous video has been blocked due to copyright, so here is another. Visually it's rather insignificant, but the audio is a bit better (though the other video's sense of the crowd was much stronger) and you get the sick ending.

Bill Cunningham New York

It seems as if it's been ages since I last found my way into a dark theater to watch a film. I'm afraid that it's just one of the many facets of creative culture that has been less and less appreciated as the internet has expanded. Going out to the Harvard Exit last night was a nice change from my dark bedroom and the often random choices available on Netflix to watch instantly. It was certainly refreshingly atypical to a more expected Saturday night. My friend Cy and I went to see Bill Cunningham New York, the documentary about the esteemed New York Times street style photographer, who in his 80s, is still running around New York capturing beauty.

In the film (as in the trailer), Anna Wintour states, "We all get dressed for Bill," so it seemed appropriate that I honor the man with an expressive ensemble.

(Thrited faux fur, Proenza Schouler x J Brand Jeans, gifted belt, Jeffrey Campbell wedges)

The film itself was nothing short of moving. To see someone so dedicated to his work and so unaffected by the rest of the world is inspiring. I can't even fathom such a rigorous existence, entirely stripped of excess. He's quite an oddity among his often highly decorated subjects—duct-taping cheap rain-resistant ponchos when they rip, riding his bike constantly, living among fiel cabinets—but is respected nonetheless. A particularly humorous moment sees Bill talking to press registration at a fashion show when a superior grabs him and tells the unknowing employee/volunteer, "Please, he is the most important man on Earth." It's quite the statement, but his talent for story-telling justifies it. Unsurprisingly, the film is visually thrilling as well. Half the time I wished all the photographs that flashed across the screen went a bit slower. The various photo subjects interviewed provide a lovely sort of fantasy realm that Bill dutifully captures. I am not typically in awe of old men, but Mr. Cunningham has truly blown me away. His hunger for beauty and sense of self deserves the highest respect. Richard Press has captured this in a film that is as fascinating as it is heartbreaking, and as hilarious as it is galvanizing. This is a story I will hold dear to my heart for years to come.