The Only True Couturier Among Us

For most of last week, I was in a daze. A large part of my work agenda consisted in doing research about Cristóbal Balenciaga, but I just didn't know how his story was going to overcome me. Until then, I had a basic knowledge of Balenciaga for someone working in fashion: I knew he was born in the little fishing town of Guetaria in the Basque Country, the son of a fisherman and a seamstress; that his talent was remarked very early by members of the haute bourgeoisie and aristocracy who spent their summers in Guetaria, and thanks to these ladies his company was able to expand. I also knew, of course, that he was forced to leave Spain during the Civil War and chose to open his maison in Avenue George V in Paris, thus becoming the genius designer Coco Chanel would define as "the only true couturier among us".

But enough with the Cinderella story. It has been told a thousand times in a bit of a clichéd tone, so I was not really interested in that. What I wanted to know was why someone like Chanel (alongside Monsieur Dior, Hubert de Givenchy and so many others) openly hailed Balenciaga as the ultimate master and best couturier ever. So I just let his collections -from 1937 to 1968- speak for him.

I discovered a designer deeply influenced by his homeland, inspired by the "Siglo de Oro", Velázquez, Goya, traditional Spanish attire and the practical and simple outfits worn by fishermen in Northern Spain. However, he was intelligent enough as to not display an array of commonplace Spanish pieces; flamenco dresses and torero outfits may be dramatic and impressive, but women don't want to wear them season after season. Instead, he isolated several elements and focused on their architectural aspect to organically transform them into the minimal sartorial basis of his collections.

Carefully analyzed, his pieces carry endless subtle "clins d'oeil" to Spain. But overall, they answer to the universal concept of taste... for women. For I don't think any designer (except maybe Mademoiselle Chanel) has understood femininity and what women need and want as deeply as Cristóbal Balenciaga. He fought Christian Dior's constrictive vision of what women's appearance should be (should women really look like ornate rococo decorative elements, exposed, fragile and vulnerable?) and riposted to Dior's corsets, girdles and X silhouettes with protective fabrics and shapes that brought out the neckline, back and arms of women rather than the tired 90-60-90 zones.

Perhaps it was this extraordinary understanding of women and our relationship to clothes. Or maybe it was simply because I was born myself not far from Guetaria and I could recognize such familiar features in his portraits... I found myself grasping Balenciaga's work and life from a purely emotional point of view. I knew he was an extremely private and discreet person, but I wanted to know more about him. Not the rags to riches story, nor the glory days, just the small things: how was his life in Paris? What was his love story with Vladzio d'Attainville like? What kind of Spanish accent did he have when speaking French? How did Spain's situation make him feel?

I guess we'll never know. But I can't help thinking that, had he been French, no matter how discreet he was we would know. What is it with the Spanish? Why can't we ever give credit to our own talent? While the French (and the British, Italian and American) still hail Balenciaga as the greatest haute couture designer of the XXth century, the Spanish indiscriminately sandwitch him between other national designers like Roberto Verino and Pertegaz (never heard of them? Neither would I if I wasn't Spanish). A Balenciaga museum opened in Guetaria earlier this year (hadn't heard of it? No worries, apparently no one did outside the Iberian border); as part of my research, I read the articles published in every big Spanish newspaper about the museum's opening. They were all filled with grandiose paragraphs describing in thorough detail the endless parade of very important political personalities and celebrities who attended the opening party. There were roughly a couple of lines introducing Cristóbal Balenciaga.
The thought of Spain's media and politicians shamelessly using the very person who situated Spain in the fashion map not only made me feel like I was witnessing some sort of Dickensian scene; it also made me realize that, no matter how many times Balenciaga's story is told as a fairy tale with a happy ending, it is more of a bittersweet drama: the story of an artist's unrequited love for his country.
Perhaps Spain will someday come to understand its gift. Until then, luckily, we'll always have Paris.

Girl Crush: Maayan Zilberman

I've thought it would be cool to start a new section introducing some interesting, inspiring, stylish girls. In other words... girl crushes. By the way don't you just love that expression? I think it perfectly describes the instinctive feelings we as girls have for other girls, like when ten minues after having met a girl we are already talking about favourite books or manicures. Or, on the other side, when one nanosecond after being introduced to another girl we just know the more we get to know her, the more we'll dislike her (don't deny it, you know we are all like that).
So, first of all, what constitues girl crush material for me?

Girl crush is:
- Girls who read books.
- Girls who are not afraid of being different to what we are told is "cool".
- Girls who are genuinely creative in their lifes and jobs.
- Girls who are strong, independent and empowered.

Girl crush is not:
- Girls who dress to look like celebrities.
- Girls whose ultimate idol is Carrie Bradshaw (that's not feminine, it's just stupid).
- Girls who just buy and buy and buy stuff.

Anyway, Maayan Zilberman is definitely girl crush material. This adoptive New Yorker is a multi-talented artist who draws, designs and bakes for a living; and each one of her jobs carries the personal brand of her style. Also, as you can see in this video from the amazing website Style Like U, the girl sure knows how to dress in a truly unique way!

Maayan Zilberman for Stylelikeu.com from StyleLikeU on Vimeo.

Maayan has a lingerie brand with friend Nikki Dekker, poetically (and humorously) called The Lake & Stars. Their designs are subtly provocative and sexy in an intellectual sort of way. Graphic elements and colours are striking in all of their pieces, creating intimates which of course can be worn alone day and night, but that can also perfectly complement an outfit. You can find Maayan's brand in Net-a-Porter and Barney's among others.

But compulsively creative Miss Zilberman is also a gifted illustrator (you can see her work in her Tumblr) and has built her own cake company, called WaveCake (check it out here), for which she cooks up a storm of incredible-looking cakes like these:

I think Maayan is great inspiration for anyone wanting to carry out their own creative business and do things their way, stepping out of commonplace ideas and standard styles. I am very much looking forward to seeing what she does next!

The Paris Diaries: Halloween

"Don't move", my own mirror reflection whispers to me as I start re-drawing my eyebrows so they'll look like Vampira's. The eye-liner pencil feels soft and a little ticklish on my skin. "I hope my costume'll look cool enough" I think to myself. "Everyone wears such fabulous clothes in this kind of parties and I hardly had any time to decide what I'm gonna wear. The dark circles under my eyes are perfect for Halloween, though. Where is my Touche Éclat? Damn. I really need to sleep more. Or maybe these things just won't go, whatever I do. Maybe I'm starting to not be so young. I'm not twenty anymore... To hell with it, I feel better now than when I was twenty. I wore denim jackets when I was twenty, for God's sake! I could pass for twenty-three. I could even pass for twenty if I didn't wear red lipstick everyday. Where is my red lipstick? There. Well. Not so bad". I look at the mirror. With my fringe pulled to the sides and my face covered in rice powder I actually kind of look like the original Vampira. The taxi is waiting downstairs. I grab a patent leather belt and tighten it until my waist measures 45 cm and I can hardly breathe;I sprinkle some Black Orchid on my décolleté. thirty seconds later I'm on my way to the hippest club in town.

I open the car's door and put both my heeled feet on the floor. My black velvet dress is so long it trails along the wet asphalt. I actually really like my costume; I bet no one else will be dressed like Maila Nurmi. I bet...
I look at the smirking people in front of me and freeze in panic. Oh no. This can't be. Why do these things keep happening to me? Trying to hide on a doorstep as some kids pass me by and scream the words "David Lynch!", I grab my phone and mark a number. "Ray" I say "get here. Now. No one here is disguised".

From my hiding doorstep, feeling a bit like a sucker version of Orson Welles in The Third Man, I can see the people queuing outside the club. Click click click, every single girl here is wearing towering Louboutins and amazingly short skirts. Luckily I don't have to wait long: soon I can see a corpse bride, an Indian chief complete with plume and all, and a silhouette in a Napoleon hat which looks very much like John Galliano. Proudly they make their way to the door among the sneers of the Loubie-wearing crowd. "Thank God you're here! Wasn't this supposed to be a Halloween party?" "oh whatever. Let's just get inside", says Ray.

We walk through glittering golden corridors and heavy red velvet curtains, turning heads as we go. Looking for our host, we accidentally step into a room with black shiny walls furnished only with several pale tree trunks. A small group of people is sipping champagne, sitting nochalantly in the twisted trunks. It looks more like a Fellini or Antonioni scene than a David Lynch movie. They look at us in bored perplexity. I hear a voice behind me: "You guys look amazing!". Our chic-looking host welcomes us. It is a Halloween party after all.

The dancefloor is a curtained stage with red and blue lights. The DJ is playing 50's rock and roll. I dance for a while before realizing the floor is getting crowded with people we don't know; the girls (is it my imagination or are they all blondes?) are wearing different types of little black dresses, stiletto heels and 2.55 bags and they do the twist with straight-looking boys in checkered shirts. I sit and stare in amazement: I haven't seen so many straight boys together in years. Matter of fact, except in menswear shows, I haven't seen more than one straight boy at a time in years. So this is what my life has come to. Oh well, who wants to be surrounded by straight boys in checkered shirts dancing "perreo" style to ska music.
Then something magical happens. Madonna's La Isla Bonita starts sounding and two friends of Ray come to say hi. One of the boys is wearing a Dracula cape embroidered with ostrich feathers, and the other one is dressed as a zombi and his hair is sprayed the colour of green candyfloss. As we sing "last night I dreamt of San Pedro", the feathered dracula whispers in my ear: "sweetheart, you are a goddess!". I feel at home again.

How to become Woody Allen's muse in 10 easy lessons

He might be short, neurotic and balding, but Woody Allen is also one of the biggest cultural icons of our time. He has turned sex into an existential and philosophical matter, and he has turned existentialism and philosophy into laughing matters. No one had ever done that before (although Groucho Marx had hinted it). You may not like all of his movies; I have different feelings about them myself. I think Annie Hall is one of the great films in movie history; Manhattan Murder Mystery, Radio Days or The Curse of the Jade Scorpion are fantastic classic comedies; Hannah and her Sisters and Crimes and Misdemeanors are insightful works about the human nature; and Anything Else should forever be forgotten. Whatever you think about the man and his films, one thing is certain: Woody has created a lot of unforgettable feminine characters. In his films, women are never mere sidekicks to leading men: they are always protagonists, and often have more power, more intelligence and more emotional depth than their male counterparts. And they also have great style (next to Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's, Annie Hall is the movie character that inspires most girls when they dress up in the morning). So what's not to love about Woody Allen's muses? They have the wits, the charm and the style; in short, they can conquer the world. And now you too can become Mr. Allen's next muse! Just follow my 10 easy lessons. Success guaranteed!


Lesson 1: Embrace your inner nerdy intellectual.

After years of hiding what I really was to most people (a philosophy graduate who read Dickens at 11, quoted Bogart at 15 and mentioned Walter Benjamin in jokes at 20) for fear of being seen as a total freak (yeah, I was bullied at school for preferring Gershwin over the Backstreet Boys) I decided to come out of the closet and not give a damn what people thought. After all, if I mention Orson Welles in a conversation and people don't know who he is it's their problem. So go ahead, put your glasses on, wear clothes that hint your Columbia education (cozy cashmere sweaters and masculine-cut trousers are comfortable and culturally-conscious enough) and show to the world that your main concern in this life is whether Rousseau or Hobbes were right about humankind.

Lesson 2: Play femme fatale

As arty references go, you can't get much better than Hollywood's golden age film noir. And since you are a bit of a cultural nerd, of course you have read every line Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett ever wrote, so acting like a femme fatale should come naturally to you. Seducing men like this is easy: just add a sophistication touch to your usual Phd-in-progress look (a shiny brooch or bracelet, long gloves, a satin blouse or red lipstick), be mysterious about yourself (answer questions with other witty questions) and look down on men as if they were worms asking for mercy. This allows you to be sexy while staying powerful and independent, and it works with Woody every single time.

Lesson 3: Big, chaotic, messy families are the new black

Quit being embarrassed by your huge 150-cousin yelling family. A house inhabited by 38 people who love to eat, gossip and fight during Christmas/Passover can be annoying, granted, but hey, that's life! And not only that, it's way more colourful and fun, and has infinitely more dramatic possibilities than your average perfect waspy family.






Lesson 4: Expand your mind

All feminine characters in Woody Allen's pictures have one thing in common: they never stop evolving, growing and expanding their horizons. I think "I've started taking courses at Columbia" is one of the most repeated sentences in Allen's filmography. But it doesn't just have to be university courses. You have thousands of options, from Freudian therapy to art workshops, music lessons or zen meditation. Ultimately, expanding your mind helps you heal and strenghtens you, so you become happier with yourself and you are able to re-shape your life to find it more satisfactory (which in Woody's movies generally leads to breaking up a romantic relationship. Oh, the ironies of life...).

Lesson 5: Get the androgynous look on

There's no doubt about you being a woman. If you have followed the four previous lessons you are indeed an extremely feminine creature, and you show it through your gestures and actions. You don't need to show it any further with a Wonderbra and a strapless red minidress. Keep some mystery and some ambiguity by choosing to wear boyfriend jeans, crisp white shirts and woolen blazers. Any man who knows what femininity really is about will recognize it in you, even if you are disguised as Annie Hall. And any man who doesn't is just not worth it.

Lesson 6: Empower yourself...

If you carefully analyze Woody Allen's pictures, you'll often see him comically trying to take control of situations in a constant but subtle battle of the sexes, while, as a matter of fact, it's the women around him who lead things most of the time. All you need to know is that you have the power!

Lesson 7: ... but don't be afraid to be vulnerable

The fact that Woody's muses are generally empowered doesn't mean they are superwomen. Far from it, they are frequently subjected to situations that make them feel vulnerable, sad or insecure. All girls, at one point or another, feel identified with these moods. Why hide them? Woody never does.






Lesson 8: Black is the new black

At a loss for what to wear? Some things never go out of style, and head-to-toe black is one of them. Choose a little black dress or a V-neck cardigan and a scarf worn over trousers for an "intello-bobo" chic look (yeah, the French have the perfect words for this kind of things). Top it with a bohemian accessory for a maximum muse effect.

Lesson 9: Wear the right attire in bed

I don't mean sexy lingerie (altough of course feel free to wear it) but actual pyjamas. In Woody Allen's films many crucial dialogues take place when the characters are in bed. Comfortable apparel is hence mandatory: silk pyjama pants, cotton knickers and oversized t-shirts are perfect...

Lesson 10: Know your Cole Porter

Music is as important as New York in Woody's movies. He is a big fan of jazz, dixieland, Gershwin and Cole Porter. Learn to sing It Had To Be You and your training is completed: you are now Woody Allen's next muse... or at least a living version of his feminine characters!