The Ultimate Fashion Week Survival Guide

Fashion month is not an expedition to the South Pole or the Amazonian jungle, granted. But it's far from your average office day, as you all know (and you all know it because fashion people will happily complain about how perfectly awful fashion month is to anyone that will listen.) The truth is, it's mainly just really tiring. Shows begin rather early in the morning and meetings end late at night, meaning you have to do all your work at night in your hotel room, coping with jetlag (I'm doing New York, London and Paris this season), not eating any nutritious food and basically having your mind occupied 100% by fashion thoughts. It can all turn into a nightmare pretty fast.

Which is why I'm bringing you this Ultimate Fashion Week Survival Guide. Note the word "Ultimate": this is not your average guide filled with nonsense like "My Alexander Wang bag keeps me grounded and feeling fabulous at all times during FW. I never get out of the house without it", which is what you basically find when you google "fashion week survival guide". We (fashion people) are not that shallow and, after all, surviving FW depends on much more important things than designer hats, gloves and shoes. So here are my Ten Commandments. Following them, or trying to (hey, we're only human) guarantees a little less stress and tiredness and a lot more mental health during this proving month.

1. Cling to your iPhone charger as if your life depended on it. Which it does, sort of.

Do not, I repeat, do not forget your iPhone charger home (unless you're pretty sure the Vodafone charging drawers are available in Somerset House). Running out of battery in the middle of a 14- hour workday can prove a bummer and a major catastrophe as you will not be able to answer e-mails, call people, tweet or instagram. Possible consequences: coming home at 1 am to 76 urgent e-mails to answer, not being able to locate shows, presentations, friends or drivers, and loss of social media popularity as nobody saw your pictures of the Burberry show. And yes, I speak out of experience.

2. Your new BFF's name is Dry Shampoo.

Having to wake up at 6 am to wash, condition and style your hair after having slept 3 hours. That's my idea of hell. Thank God someone invented dry shampoo. Just spray some of this miracle dust (Klorane is my favourite brand) with a little head massage in the morning and go out feeling fabulous. No one needs to know you're really a filthy pig who hasn't washed her hair in 6 days.

3. FORGET heels.

I cannot stress the word FORGET enough. And by FORGET I don't mean "wear heels in the morning and carry a pair of ballerinas for backup" or "wear ballerinas in the subway and change when you get next to Lincoln Center" or "take flip flops in your bag to change at the end of the day". I mean plain FORGET about them. There's a time and a place for heels. Fashion Week is not it. Heels might be cool for Victoria Beckham to take a bow on the runway or for Daphne Guinness at the Gareth Pugh show, but they are not adequate attire for us fashion proletarians running to the press bus, or from the car, or in the macadam at the Marais. They are physically and mentally dangerous. I've seen many a fabulous stylist fall face flat on the floor, subsequently losing all dignity. And everyone knows when your feet hurt you can't concentrate on anything else, and life just generally loses its meaning.

4. Try not to completely ruin your health by eating crap and drinking nothing but coffee.

The amount of nutrition-free food being passed around in every Fashion Week on the planet (remember that season we all lived out of Tyrrell's popcorn in London?) makes it pretty difficult to maintain a balanced diet. However, ditching Starbucks Frapuccinos and Pret-a-Manger cake for fruit snacks and green juice (I know, it makes me gag too, but I do feel incredibly energized after drinking it) will be helpful in keeping you feeling human, more or less. 

5. Sleep is underrated.

After a while the "work hard party hard" philosphy just doesn't work. GET SOME SLEEP! Go out a couple of nights every week, maybe party until the wee hours once a week, but try to get at least 6-7 hours of sleep every night the rest of the time. Your body and mind will thank you. And I tell you, parading around the Tuileries gardens in your J W Anderson skirt and Sophie Hulme bag won't make up for the fact that after 3 weeks of sleeping 4 hours a day you're far from a pretty sight.

6. Friends will help you keep sane.

It's no secret that fashion is the refuge of clowns, freaks, weirdos and sociopaths of every kind. And they all get together during Fashion Week. The bitchiness can be unbearable, so get yourself a nice group of clever, grounded, lovely fashion friends (cool people are abundant in this industry too!) and get out there with confidence. 

7. Whenever you feel completely inadequate, remind yourself everyone else feels the same.

You get up in the morning, do your nails and hair (well, at least you dry shampoo it), choose a fab outfit consisting of black straight torusers, black cashmere sweater, brogues and a silk leopard trench coat. You go out feeling like a million dollars... and you get to the show venue. Then in your mind it's all "Jesus Christ! Why did I dress like this? I look like a loser! Leopard print went out of fashion last season! I look way too put together, not nonchalant enough. These black trousers make me look like a sausage. If I looked as skinny as that model over there I could pull them off, but of course I had to eat all that cake last night. Also my hair is getting all frizzed. How can this even happen when I haven't washed it with water and soap in a week? For crying out loud, I just realized I'm standing next to Caroline Issa dressed in Alaïa, she makes me look even worse! I'm so ugly I don't deserve to be here. In fact I don't deserve to live." Yes, that feeling is awful, especially considering you have to endure it every day for 5 weeks. But believe me, EVERYONE feels exactly the same. Maybe not Caroline Issa, but I'm pretty sure 90 % of the people at the shows do. Insecurity is only human nature. 

8. Never mind the bollocks... I mean never mind the streetstyle photographers.

I could do a whole blog post about streetstyle photographers. It would probably be titled "Why streetstyle photographers are dumber than a bag of hammers". Seriously. 95% of all streetstyle photographers - bar Bill Cunningham, Scott Schuman and a couple more - will take your picture only because the streetstyle photographer next to them is taking your picture. So if you enter a show and not one photographer snaps you, that's that. If, on the contrary, one of them shows interest, you will soon be feeing like Lady Di being papped from all angles. Some of the things streetstyle photographers look for in a person are, in no particular order: expensive outfits (who cares if they're borrowed?), ridiculous looks (a dress made of teddy bears? Snap away! Sandals in winter? Fabulous!) and it girls and boys (Alexa Chung dressed in tracksuits? Yes please!). I won't even go into the number of buffoons desperately posing for them. Do not try to be snapped by them and don't feel bad if they sneer at you (they actually do that sometimes). No one in the industry cares about them anymore anyway.

9. Save a little time to do some "real work" every day.

Because there's nothing worse than getting back to Paris after three hectic weeks in a state of exhaustion only to find that you still have to answer 578 e-mails and that a pile of articles needs to be written in the next 48 hours. Use the nights in which you don't go out to work a just a little bit and catch up on your sleep. It's really worth it. After all fashion week is about work.

10. Don't take it all too seriously. After all, it's only fashion!

Yes, we are taking part in a multi-billion industry here, but we're not saving lives, fixing the ozone layer or sending rockets to Mars. Try to keep some perspective. The world does not end because you missed a show, and no one deserves to be beheaded if a heel broke just before the model went out on the catwalk. As much as we like to think "everyone wants to be us", they don't. We're not the centre of the Universe. So lighten up, sweetie.

Viva Las Vegas

If you haven't yet seen Steven Soderbergh's Behind the Candelabra you need to drop whatever you're doing and watch it right now. For Michael Douglas's amazing acting and for the rare pleasure of seeing Matt Damon walking around in skimpy swarovski-embroidered speedos, but also because it's a turning point in film history: this is the first time a TV company hs produced a movie that has the same quality as any traditional Hollywood feature, to the point of premiering at the Cannes Film Festival. Soderbergh had problems rising funds since the story was deemed "too gay" by studios (and they say there is no censorship anymore...), so he got picked up by HBO. I personally hope this is the beginning of a long line of movies with innovative plots that will give the industry a much-needed shake-up.

Behind the Candelabra has had a great impact on me for all of these reasons, but also because it has rekindled my love affair with the city that Christian extremists have dubbed "a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah". Las Vegas is truly fabulous! As Joe Pesci said in Scorsese's Casino, "it's a city made of money" where the concept of good taste doesn't exist. In Paris - where the constant focus on tasteful living and understated chic can get quite oppressive - I always feel like I'm committing some sort of capital sin when I express my love of (cue French people cringing) Dolce & Gabbana, Playboy magazine or long gel nails. What I think most French people don't understand is there's an art to "good" bad taste and tackiness too. And no city masters it like good old Vegas. So in case you had forgotten how great the worldwide capital of gambling is, here are 10 reasons to remember:

1. Las Vegas is the only place where it's acceptable for a man to dress like this.

Or this,

or this.

We don't see nearly enough silk, sequins or fur on men in the rest of the world, which is a shame.

2. It's the only place where this is considered elegant jewellery.

Liberace does it better. That is all. 

3. It' the only place where it's acceptable for a decent(ish) woman to dress like this:

Or like this.

We, the women from all other cities in the world, have some serious catching up to do on feathers, gold and chinchilla.

4. It's the only place on earth where it's acceptable for a house to look like this.

Enough said.

5. With 300 sunny days per year, Vegas is the only city in the world where wearing fur coats when there's 30 degrees outside is in.

This might be changing though. I hear in Dubai the latest fashion for wealthy princesses is turning the air conditioning full speed and inviting your friends for a fur tea party. But Vegas has a unique brand of fur glamour though.

6. There must be something wonderful about Vegas when entertainment royalty such as Frank Sinatra, Liz Taylor, Mohamed Ali or Joan Collins goes there to celebrate birthdays and other milestones.

Who wouldn't want to celebrate his birthday amidst a cloud of marabou feathers and girls in sequined bikinis?

7. If it wasn't for Vegas we wouldn't have Showgirls, that utterly vile masterpiece of film history.

I've seen softcore porn movies with better plots and dialogue. But somehow this movie is iconic and addictive, so it must be good in an Ed Wood kind of way.

8. And speaking of showgirls, flooziness reaches a whole new level in Vegas. Which is obviously fascinating.

I must confess I've always been intrigued by Vegas floozies. I saw Casino when I was about 10 (yeah, probably a tad young, but it taught me a valuable life lesson: the house always wins) and I was enthralled by Sharon Stone's Ginger. That girl certainly got around: she knew how to properly gamble, how to tip casino employees to her advantage, how to get 100 dollars out of Robert DeNiro by just saying "I need to go powder my nose" and how to attach her hairpiece flawlessly. It takes a real skill to be a professional Vegas hussy. Chapeau.

9. Elvis's legend and his sequined overalls wouldn't have existed without Vegas.

We've got a lot to be thankful for.

10. Vegas has generally made an art form of tackiness and bad taste...

... so don't be afraid to apreciate the goodness in good bad taste and to indulge in it all. After all, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Unconventional Style Icons: Glenn Gould

 

About two years ago I wrote a post titled "Unknown Style Icons: Natacha Rambova", about the eccentric 1920's costume designer and wife of Rudolph Valentino. I really intended to do a whole series of posts on some of my personal style icons who are generally not identified as so by the mainstream media. However, a random reader wrote me an appalled e-mail telling me sarcastically that "he was very glad I had at long last discovered Rambova but that she was by no means unknown and I should research more before talking without having a clue". That made me feel like such a loser I stopped altogether the unknown style icons series. But, hang it, after two years I've finally gotten over it (sensitive, me?) and decided to start it again, only this time I'll call it "Unconventional Style Icons" so as to not attract more hate mail calling me an ignorant idiot. 

Anyway, after Natacha Rambova I give you Glenn Gould.

Admittedly, Mr. Gould's style is the least important thing about him. You are looking at one of the biggest musical geniuses of last century. I know the word "genius" is thrown around way too frivolously these days, but in this case it applies. Glenn, who was born in Toronto in 1932, could read music before he could read words. As a baby he would play with the family piano, not by randomly hitting the keys but rather by pressing one key at a time and carefully listening to each sound and its evolution. By the time he was 13 he gave his first concert and at 25 he embarked on a tour of the Soviet Union. He had his very own views on music and believed a performer should be - rather than just a machine playing someone else's compositions - a true interpreter, bringing a new sound to an already known score. Also, besides a genius, he was a hopeless eccentric. 

Before he sat down to play the piano (on his very low wooden chair, a present from his father which he carried to all his performances), Glenn had to make sure the temperature in the room was extremely warm (he was constantly cold).While playing, he invariably hummed to the music, which gave sound technicians many a headache during recording sessions. He disliked being touched; in fact, he didn't much enjoy human company in general and felt better around animals.All these quirks obviously shaped his "nutty genius" style, which to be honest attains levels of cool otherwise only reached by the Japanese.

I must also mention Mr. Gould had the good looks of a young Ethan Hawke, which also helped (why hasn't anyone made a movie about his life starring Ethan yet by the way?)

I guess he didn't give much importance to the way he looked, and that's exactly what made Glenn so irresistibly cool: his hair was seldom combed and always too long, his suits were mismatched, his trousers were too wide, his shirt rarely tucked in and more often than not unpressed.

Because he always felt cold, he used to wear heavy woolen fabrics, big coats, thick sweaters, scarves, knitted mittens and leather gloves (sometimes one on top of the other. Has Junya Watanabe drawn inspiration from the photo above yet?). All these details added up to create a unique style which in my opinion is truly unique and inspirational.What do you think?

Having steadily studied classical music from the age of 2 to 18, I was familiar with Glenn Gould before I was familiar with Michael Jackson. I know both his music and his persona are not everyone's cup of tea and some people think he is just "too much"; but I'm a fan. Besides admiring his brilliantly creative intrpretations, I've always been partial to him partly tanks to his ambivalent feelings towards people and the fact that he had even more aversion to cold than I do. Over the years he has become one of my icons, and I'm not just talking about style. Even though he had tons of it.

PS: If you would like to know more about this genius, here is a really interesting documentary featuring lots of original footage of Glenn and his inimitable "allure".

Backstage at Beijing's Dior Homme Show

On April 26, Dior Homme held its first-ever fashion show outside of Paris, and the spot chosen by Kris Van Assche for this one-off event was Beijing’s Central Academy of Fine Arts museum. The organic, airy building with curved walls hosted 600 guests, including a long list of Chinese celebrities (from media mogul Hung Huang to “China’s number-one heartthrob” actor Huang Xiaoming) sporting a studied air of effortless elegance. “After having staged some events in Shanghai, Beijing seemed like the logical next step”, Van Assche said. “I love the momentum of China, and how people in this city pay a lot of attention to the way they look.”

 

The show was a reprisal of Dior Homme’s A/W13 show which debuted last January in Paris. Half of the impeccably groomed models were cast locally and three new looks (which according to the designer will only be available in China) were added to the show. Drawing inspiration from 1997’s film Gattaca, Van Assche created a rigorous collection with a futuristic edge (“clothes for tomorrow”) leaning on technical fabrics and functional details like safety belts and jackets equipped with zips instead of buttons. “I have been very inspired by sport and the notion of a healthy mind in a healthy body lately, that’s why I took Gattaca as the starting point for the collection. From there I worked to achieve an athletic silhouette, lean yet virile, following the masculine anatomy in the cut of the clothes.”

 

In their austere, waist-belted black suits and tightly combed-back hair, the models were the embodiment of inexorable physical perfection as they marched down the catwalk. The show was a cavalcade of high energy, with the added excitement of a black bat flying into the room and twirling around over the models’ heads, in what many guests thought to be a deliberate performance. After the show, a gig by synth-pop duo Hurts (dressed head-to-toe in Dior Homme, naturally) got the crowd dancing. “I think they are a great representation of contemporary dandyism”, said a relaxed Van Assche as models challenged the crowd to a dance-off, beginning what would be an all-night after party.

Beijing in Pictures

Two weeks ago I got the kind of phonecall we all dream about: Kris Van Assche's Dior office was calling, they were organizing a menswear show in China and would I be free to go to Beijing in 5 days. Well, would I! a very busy week ensued, which was spent basically doing paperwork and worrying that I wouldn't get my visa (let's just say journalists, even the ones who work in fashion, are not exactly the darlings of the Chinese Communist Party). However, everything worked out in the end and I found myself flying towards a city I didn't know much about...

I'm not really sure what I was expecting from Beijing; certainly a very (very) big city where tradition meets modernity. But what is really amazing about China's capital is its energy. It's impossible to describe, it oozes old time mystery and 21st century excitement (and endless pollution. Sometimes it's even impossible to see 100 metres ahead of you because of that). In the picture above is the view I got of the city from my room in the 49th floor of the Park Hyatt hotel. 

Traditional China is still there, though, sometimes so idyllic it feels like a Hollywood setting. These pictures were taken around the Summer Palace a bit outside the city, where the Qing emperors used to spend their summers (and which was massacred by the "very civilized" English and French during the XIXth century and rebuilt later). Just taking a walk there makes you feel so zen and grounded - and the experience is enhanced by the fact that there are hardly any obnoxious Western tourists dressed in shorts and crocs. Seriously, that makes Beijing the perfect destination.

 Posing in the Forbidden city with the lovely Noémie from the Dior team. We learned the most impressive stories about concubines and eunuchs there.

Some charmingly decadent traditional neighbourhoods still exist in the city, although most of them are being destroyed in order to build yet more huge towers to house banks and financial institutions while people are being relocated. It just doesn't make much sense to me how any self-respecting Communist party would do that kind of thing, but oh well. I think as a matter of fact one of the things that fascinates me about China so far is its political and socio-economic situation. Being able to talk to real people and see how they live was, for me, the most priceless thing about my trip. As was seeing senior citizens still dress as they did during the Cultural Revolution, wearing blue worker jackets and caps with red stars embroidered on them.

 Yes, I did have the time to take a walk on the Great Wall. And there were no tourists!

The Forbidden City was really impressive and made me think of Ryuichi Sakamoto's music for The Last Emperor. Most of the pavillions in it are being restored, but there are still some decadent bits like this one, which made me ecstatic with aesthetic joy, much to the confusion of Chinese people who couldn't understand how a decaying wall could make me so happy.

 Dior Homme's amazing show. More on that tomorrow, as it deserves a post on its own.

And of course we partied like crazy fashion people after the show, dancing to Hurts's live gig with Chinese celebrities (I admit I didn't know who anyone was, but they were all lovely and fun!). Here I am towards the end of the night, after too much champagne and too much jet lag, with Julien from Dior. For some reason at this point I was wearing Julien's Dior Homme outfit and he was wearing my Carolina Herrera leopard coat, which prompted our motto for the night (and our whole stay in China): what happens in Beijing stays in Beijing.