La méchante

I am in a bad mood this morning. That happens all the time on Sunday mornings.
London fashion week started yesterday. As I was browsing through the first shows, I loved what I saw but... my bad mood took over me. I am sorry. I can't help it. Only mean comments coming to my mind. Very very mean. I thought I'd just share them with you !

Topshop Unique fw09

Yay ! We already know we are gonna be able to get perfect copies of the Marc Jacob's fw 09 collection at Topshop !
I mean seriously ...

Marc Jacobs fw09

Charles Anastase fw09

Scoop : Charles Anastase is a Gossip Girl fan. This outifit is called : tribute to little J.

Central Saint Martin's

Come on, students from Central Saint Martin's, we have internet too ! We can totally tell you copy-pasted this from Tavi's blog ! We know !! We are gonna tell your teachers ! And you're gonna get into big trouble !
ah aha aha ah aha ah aha ha ah aha ha ha aha ha ha ah aha ha !!!!

(HEAR THIS AS A VERY VERY MEAN LAUGHTER)

Vivienne Westwook Red Label fw09

Is it me or Alice Dellal has put on like 150 kilos and looks about as sexy as if she was about to teach a broom driving class in Harry Potter's school ?
ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah !!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!
(HEAR THIS AS THE MEANEST LAUGHTER YOU'VE EVER HEARD)

Oh god. This feels so good. I am almost in a good mood now ! Have a good day !
xoxo

Leather and Crushed Velvet

I want it all. Every single piece of Erin Wasson's RVCA collection, showed in NYC yesterday. I want the leather vest, the bleached denim shorts, the oversized sailor sweater, the mesh tops, the slouchy crochet dress and the old cow boy hat.
I want it all, and I'll get it all very easily at the thrift store next door !

NO FUN in NYC

All you fashion lovers of course know the happy cycle of fashion weeks is on again, starting in NYC, as usual, before gracing London, Milan and finally my beloved Paris with its delicious and vital superficiality. Like all of you guys, I check out style.com every morning when I wake up, followed by Garance and Scott, to get a grasp of what's going on in the big Apple. The internet coverage is so exhaustive I really have the feeling I am there, dreading the cold weather, trying to spot Erin Wasson and her huge fur coat, and getting late for the Marc Jacobs show.
Anyways. It seems that we are not missing this much, guys.
Things arent as fun as they used to be.
Fashion wise, first. I mean, come on, Alexander, we still love you, and we definetely gonna fall for cropped leggings soon, if you say so, but why, oh why so black and white ?
And you, Pronza Schouler, I love you still but why so brownish, why so... boring ?
Thank god there was, you, my beloved Mulleavy sisters and those boots I am so extatic about I might dream about them every night till the next fashion week. And Marc Jacobs, whose collection I just LOVED, but couldn't say it better that July stars did.
No, no... There is no fun in NYC.
There is no party ! On the first days of the week, I received BBMs from all my lucky - or not - models, editors or fashion geek friends who are there... There were all like : God ! There is no party ! All the designers canceled them all! F...ing Recession !
No parties on NYC fashion week ? Come on ! That's like no crocodile on a Lacoste sweater ! That can't be ! But unfortunately, it is. No big Diesel bash, no crazy Marc Jacobs cocktail, just a few shy aftershow dinners and a handfull of shops or galllery openings...
No, there was no parties in NYC this week, except for two. The Purple dinner, and the Vladimir Roitfeld exhibition opening. Thank God the frenchies are here to make this depressing time a little more fun. Thank God Olivier and Carine are here to entertain the Olsen sisters, Milla Jovovitch and Gisele Bundchen !
Oh yes, my french fellows, we can now say it out loud and clear. We own the night.

Sorry

I was away for too long. I am being such a bad blogger. I know you are supposed to post everyday, or it wont work.
But, God, I had so much to do lately, and I went to Berlin for the week-end... Had the most terrible time ever. Let me tell you about it.
I visited this boy I really liked... and he acted like a total asshole. For example, he forced me to walk in the cold on my 15 cm heels, by -15 degrees. And when I said I was cold he answered me I was an hysteric. The guy is a shrink. Yeah, I know.... It's probably also the reason why he didn't want us to share the same bed ('I hate human heat'), wasn't interressed in visiting a museum ('I've seen it all') and was very disapointed I pick spanish as a second language in high school ('You don't speak my language, we can't share anything'). Oh, and did I tell you about the part when he took me to this 20's party, and the other end of Berlin, with middle-aged people wearing wigs, Charlestown dresses and Al Capone hats ? Not that it was cool, they weren't wearing vintage clothes, they had actually picked their stuff from some dress up shop, the kind you go to for Halloween.... Oh god. I still cant' beleive I hung in there for two days. I used to really love Berlin.
Did I mention that all this happened on Valentine's day ??
Ok. I know. This is no good reason to stop blogging for so long.
Ok, so what I will do is confess something really unconfessable to show you how sorry I am.
I have a huge crush on Frank N. Furter.
I love men wearing tights and heels.

Yeah. Ok. I love crazy. And then I shouldn't be surprised when I end up spending Valentine's day with a psychopath in Berlin. Ok. I got your point. Thanks.

Leo

Raquel Zimmerman - Alexander Wang S/S 09

Daisy Lowe, Agent Provocateur F/W 08


Lets get back to fashion. I have an obsession right now : Leotards.
First, I LOVE this word.
In french, we call it "body", which sounds a little vulgar, or maybe the best translation would be "justaucorps", which is even worse. But the other night, I was with an american friend at home. It was late, I was a little drunk, wanted to feel confortable, and took off my high-waisted skirt. Underneath, I was wearing my nude American Apparel Bodysuit.
And he said : "Oh, you're wearing a leotard". I had forgotten this word, and it made me shiver... Just loved the sound of it, the sexiness and quirkyiness of it. Makes me love it even more. I just ordered this topshop lace one, and I am about to fall for this one too.
I, of course, don't love them for their comfort - you actually have to go naked each time you need to "pipi".... because they don't have this button crotch opening like the 80's... Thank god!! No. What I love about them is their tightness, the way they hold your body, almost forcing you to stand straight, chest up, like a ballerina... I definetely love the kitschy ballet look of it... Makes me want to wear leg warmers and pretend I am on "Fame".
I am sure soon we will be wearing it with nothing on top, as Alexander Wang suggests it, as Beyoncé does in her Single Ladies video and as Kate did...let me check... two years ago ??

Dammit !! She's too good.

Live

There is crazy stuff happening in Paris right now. I don't want to sound obsessed by recession, but it seems like people are losing boundaries, searching for action, revolution, freedom... Or how to explain the fact that the place to be, on Monday, was this small cabaret club in le 9eme where a couple was performing live sex on stage ? Some fashion people were here, as well as TV stars, DJs and art collectors. It wasn't dirty, because of the curtain, the red light, the intimacy of the room. It was "libertin", not erotic. More naughty than nasty. Everyone seemed fascinated as well as slightly shocked by the vision. All these big boys and girls were watching with interest, giggling like teenagers, willing to desexualize the moment. At the end, everyone asked for more. This is going to happen again, more and more people will want to join. Maybe soon some amateurs hit the stage and become libertins themselves. Might be a new trend. After all, some of the most hardcore wintage porn was produced during the Great Depression in the 30's?

Crossed

My favorite picture ever. Cause it's Juergen. And I love crosses.

Finds of the day

The snow melted away. So I went for a flee market walk instead. I love old objects. To me, old stuff is so much more valuable than brand new. In my house, there isn't a single object that doesn't have a story.
I found an original "Je t'aime moi non plus" vinyl - how gorgeous is Jane on this pic?- , a vintage leather backpack that reminds me so much of Rumi's Alexander Wang - except its 10 euros!! - a 70's photo cube - my old piano teacher had one, it tastes like childhood to me - and this incredible crucifix which contains three of my major obsessions : kitschy religious stuff, shells and crosses... Yeah, I know.

Naked

Numero 100 looked very much like any parisian fashion party : you run into scaringly skinny Eva Herzigova, loads of Balmain, less Balenciaga, leotards, smoky eyes and very high Louboutins. I was moved by the Peter Lindgbergh editorial - but I'll post about this tomorrow, and especially touched by the "curating" of Hans Ulrich Obrist, swiss curator, art critic and director of London Serpentine Gallery. One of the most impressive and smart person I ever met in my life. Also one of the sweetest. Anyways, for his "carte blanche" in this Numéro, he made a glossy exhibition of british artist Cerith Wyn Evans latest work. I just loved it, felt impacted by theses collages of masculine naked bodies, evocations of Asia, cultural mixes, return to natural state. Naked bodies, skins, the way we look without fashion to protect us. Nudity always works on me.


Nudity can be innocence and perversion, pure or wicked, pride or shame. Like on these vintage postcard I bought in Berlin and hung on my wall.
People often get disturbed by it, and I don't mind it.
I also decided I should really get a scanner. Cause pictures of pictures really doesn't work well.
PS : ATTENTION SPOILER : Max getting pregnant, how predictible was that ? What do you think of L word S 06 ??

Frozen

It's snowing for real. Big white flakes falling quietly from the white sky through my window. Tomorrow I might go to the Tuileries for another winter walk. The gardens look so beautiful under the snow. But until then, I'll stay home, read the 100th issue of Numero and stream the first episodes of season 6 of L Word... By the way, why did I just found that out now ? Why didn't anyone tell me they were back?

The R word

It is all over the place. In the sofas of cosy living-rooms, sitting at fancy dinners, on the metro, at the newstand. Recession is all over. Last night, as I was cruising down rue Etienne Marcel in a cab, my friend R. told me : "See all those shops", pointing out at the windows of Et Vous, Diesel, Pinko, Levi's, Bill Tornade and Paul&Joe. "Well, I bet you half of them will be gone by 10 years." Recession. On that same evening, at the turn of a conversation, a very witty and frivolous fashion PR checked out the LVMH stock quotations on her I Phone. And everywhere, stories of PRs and ADs being sacked, concerts and art projects getting canceled, fashion magazines getting thiner. Bang, Bang. Fashion is hit. Fashion is scared.
But fashion puts the hands in the air like it just doesn't care. And yesterday night, fashion was celebrating the "Natalia Vodianova for Etam lingerie" collection at Regine's. Amongst decaliters of vodka and champagne, trendy actors, former top-models, middle-aged fashion gourous, young european princesses and half-naked it-girls laughed and played to the sound of 2 many DJs. The party was great. Everybody agreed. But there was something forced in the smiles, something that said, "Gosh ! I miss the 90's..."

Initials KM

As I did some cleaning last night, trying to get rid of some of the hundreds magazines I keep in my living-room, i started piling them randomly. And this crazy thing happened : on the top of each pile, Kate Moss was on the cover, staring at me with style and arrogance.
I realized I had always been a Kate Moss fan without ever admitting it - I am the kind of girl who would say her new haircut looks bad, her Topshop collection is boring and her style not that great. But I have to admit that every cover she shot seemed special enough for me to want to keep it for ever. I also have to confess I bought for a quite unreasonnable price the very first issue featuring her - The Face, July 1990, pictures by Corinne Day. I have to recognize she looks as stunning with her irresistible baby smile on this cover as she does in "femme fatale" on this recent Vogue issue. I have to pay a tribute to her. She is the queen. I surrender.

Death of a Champion

The goddess Suzy Menkes announced it today : the it-bag is dead. I agree. Walking around with a thousand dollar trophée hung to your arm seems absolutely inappropriate in this recession period. The it bag became unethical. But what about the crazy shoes invading the dressings of all of us fashionistas ? Thank god, fashion has not gone all about ethics, and can still be a guilty pleasure. Feeling good matters too, in recession, doesn't it ?

Wall fashion

Rue des Rosiers, Le Marais

Marc for ever

The Louis Vuitton showroom was nimbed with the bright and cold winter sun, giving the light pink walls and exposed pieces a cinematographic touch.

The studded wedge sandals were sparkling

The burgundy striped knitted culotte (one of the most to die for pieces I've ever seen) was twinkling

And the three-pieces black suede boots sunbathing

There were fresh strawberries and Ladurée macarons on a glass table. The whole set had the pastel, romantic look of a Sofia Coppola movie.

And that was no coincidence. Exposed on a pyramid of monogrammed boxes, Sofia's creation for Louis Vuitton enjoyed the good weather. Her interpretation of the summer sandal
and re-thiking of the hit Speedy bag...

How lovely.