NSS Top HF Runway Model Ranks: F/W 2011

1. Caroline Brasch Nielsen..........4265
2. Arizona Muse.........................4050
3. Sigrid Agren............................3210
4. Jac Jagaciak............................3090
5. Kasia Struss............................2905
6. Zuzanna Bijoch........................2860
7. Karmen Pedaru.......................2855
8. Mirte Maas..............................2695
9. Ruby Aldridge..........................2570
10. Jacquelyn Jablonski..................2510
11. Josephine Skriver.....................2490
12. Daria Strokous.........................2485
13. Sun Fei Fei...............................2440
14. Daphne Groeneveld..................2260
15. Liu Wen...................................2220
16. Siri Tollerod..............................2160
17. Julia Saner................................2130
18. Joan Smalls...............................2125
19. Frida Gustavsson......................1925
20. Ginta Lapina.............................1660
21. Caterina Ravaglia......................1575
22. Magdalena Frackowiak.............1555
23. Aline Weber..............................1550
24. Patricia van der Vliet..................1540
25. Colinne Michaelis.......................1525
26. Anja Rubik.................................1475
27. Karlie Kloss...............................1450
28. Shu Pei Qin................................1430
29. Alla Kostromichova....................1390
30. Julija Steponaviciute....................1370
31. Freja Beha Erichsen....................1130
32. Candice Swanepoel.....................800
33. Coco Rocha................................900
34. Sasha Pivovarova........................505

Up-and-Coming Awesomeness, and Also, Australia

Attention, attention! It is that time of the year, my not so Swedish friends. A time of suspense and "oy moi gourd"-ing, a time of ecstasy and "oym soy excoyted"-ing. It's time for Australia's Next Top Module/Westie Scrag as well, but what I'm really getting at is the return of fashion season!

After a glorious summer (for some of us, perhaps; I have actually seen rather a lot of dreary rain of late), it is time to redirect our eyes and Prada sunglasses back to the international runways. First on the scene for those of us who are Not So Swedish, and thus Danish, is Copenhagen Fashion Week. Not just because it is amazing, and sort of like following indie musicians before they sell out, but also because we know that Copenhagen averages a little over four hours of sunshine a day each year, which makes us wonder why they bother presenting summer collections at all. It seems to me that vampire over-population would be a more pressing concern in a land of permanent night, (or at least lack of sun), but rest assured: DANSK word smiths, the Madsens appear to have seen Twilight, so they will know all about how Scandinavia offers vampires the perfect opportunity to tone down the sparkle. That they only watched Twilight because of KStew is besides the point.

So yes my darlings, I will be reviewing Copenhagen shortly, and after that is done and over with, I anticipate that preparations will have to be made for New York, London, Milan, and Paris. I have a whole system set up with spread sheets and quadratic equations and stuff, so my reviews will be based on scientific results and statistical analysis that none of the Australian modules would be able to do.

Except maybe the one that was born under the tree. I have a good feeling about her. Well, I think so, any way. There were like, 100 girls, minus one that was either picked off by Charlotte Dawson for looking like a Clearasil ad or by Alex Perry for not being expensive enough. And then they got rid of 79, either because they were too fat, too skinny, or not expensive. So I'm really not sure if girl-born-under-tree made the top 20. I can tell you the was one with pink and blue hair named Izzy did though. Pezza said he loved her, and I proceeded to chirp Grey's Anatomy jokes to my enormous teddy bear, Augustus III.

Oh yes, and there was a new Cassie, who is just as much of a bogan as Cassi van den Dungenmunchhausenshoovennoob was, just she's not as skinny, looks more like Dumbo the elephant than a crack whore with broken teeth, is apparently a bit more expensive than Cassi van den Dungenhaagendaasteiger because she said she'd like to work retail for "Supre or Gucci" instead of just "Supre," and is an "indishennussstrayen," which I hope means "aboriginal," because the concept of an aboriginal bogan will win Sarah Murdoch the Nobel Peace Prize, and AusNTM the rest of Australia's viewership. Oh, and before you comment on how they both have shit runway walks, New Cassie didn't shout "FUCK" at the end of the runway, so at least she's got that going for her. To my great disappointment, her lack of cursing also signals a lack of anger issues, which means that I cannot look forward to any potential new Lola van Vorsts (re: Izzy, and that girl that everyone thinks is pretty, but General Dawson and I think is pretty bitchy) recreating my favorite moment in the history of all Top Model franchises across the globe, and inducing a wall-punching session. (For those of you who need to be informed of this in full detail, click here to observe what will forever be referred to as "major angerness".)

Somewhere in the world, assuming she cares, our favorite bogan from Logan is shaking her head in disbelief at. Or getting ready for fashion season, because in case nobody noticed, somebody is apparently back in business after finishing her Kit-Cat bar, because I'm feeling especially punny today.

Hugo Boss S/S 2011

I was planning on quoting lyrics from "E.T." by Katy Perry as a caption for these photos, but the only words that sprang to mind were "Ima disrobe you, then ima probe you," which felt a little crass for the demure fashion crowd, besides not getting my point across at all. Short of it: looked like an alien, closed the show, I clapped a little.

But since I brought up Lola van Vorst earlier, can we discuss for a moment how Cat McNeil and Hilary Rhonda's lovechild dyed her hair blonde and went from being dead sexy to being, well, still dead sexy, but edgy and blonde too? She's been churning out new work like a poor man's Freja this summer, which she occasionally posts on her Tumblr and Twitter, which I followed because I have no more convenient ways of knowing when it's 11:11 in Sydney (It just passed, like, two hours ago, in case you're wondering. Cheers, sexy.). Not expecting to see her on runways this fall, but then, who am I to underestimate the power of invisible eyebrows?

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Tell me I'm wrong

She even has a tFS thread now, which I would have started if someone hadn't beaten me to it, and for all I know, you can put that on your resume. All I'm saying is that AusNTM started with 99 problems this season, but this bitch ain't one.

Your emails have been ever so kind this summer, all three of them were real soul-stirrers. Maybe sending one of those to Rrose Selavy will convince her to return to her Freja blogging ways. I apologize for my own extended absence... the beheading of Ned Stark in Game of Thrones was simply too much for me to handle. (Not because of Stark -- I knew that was going to happen because unlike everyone else in the world, I read that shit when I was twelve -- but because the Ring of Power has evidently driven Sean Bean to decide that life is no longer worth living.) I hope you have all enjoyed your summers (Or winters, depending where you are. Like Australia, or Westeros, for example.) as much as I have.

Sidebar: I also hope you noticed that Wayne Rooney got hair implants. Fingers crossed he shares his doctor with the Prince of Cambridge in the coming years.

I'll do my best to have a Copenhagen review up within the next two weeks, as well as finally finishing up the Top High Fashion Runway Model Ranks so you know who to watch this fashion season. Not that it really matters, the toppers will probably be at every farking show again this season, so you'll catch on quick enough. Laters!

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

P.S.: People who watch AusNTM would be well advised to start reading Jo Blogs and Bland Canyon. People who don't would be well advised to ditch Tyra Banks and start.

Photos courtesy of tFS user AriLove, juliawheeler.blogspot.com, lovelola.tumblr.com

It's A Beautiful Game

When I was three, my father read me The Little Mermaid. When she killed herself for the man she loved, I was extremely upset.

When I was six, I watched the news for the first time. When they announced that Princess Diana had died in a car crash, I broke down in tears.

When I was seven, I saw Titanic. When Leonardo Dicaprio turned blue and sank to the bottom of the Atlantic with the ship that was supposedly unsinkable, I was devastated.

When I was eight, I heard the song "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan. When my mother asked me what I thought of it, I replied: "Sad."

When I was thirteen, I read Anna Karenina. When Anna threw herself under the train, I was stricken for both she and Vronsky.

When I was fifteen, England played Portugal in the quarterfinals of the 2006 FIFA World Cup. When Cristiano Ronaldo scored his penalty kick, I was inconsolable.

I asked my father to reread The Little Mermaid the next night. I sometimes watch documentaries about Princess Diana in my spare time. Upon finishing Titanic, I insisted that we rewind the tape and watch again. The song "Angel" is on my "25 Most Played" list on iTunes. I reread Anna Karenina three years later. I recorded England vs Portugal on a DVD, and still watch it every now and again.

On no occasion have any of these things been less sad than the first time I experienced them. But I go back to them time and again despite that fact. Sometimes, I hope that the Titanic will miss the iceberg this time, or that Ronaldo hits the post. On others, I hope that Anna does get hit by the train; that the Little Mermaid does kill herself, employing some sort of reverse psychological practice on the powers that be. The remainder of the time, I prepare for the oncoming upset of Prince Harry at his mother's funeral, and steel myself for exposure to McLachlan's emotion-laden voice. None of these tactics ever work. But I still go back, and I never stop trying.

From what I understand, I am not the only person enthralled with overwhelming sadness. In fact, it would seem that tragic tales are the most popular ones. It is interesting to think that we are taught about fighting for success, and how winning is funner than losing. This is not wrong. It is easier to smile than to frown, and sobbing uncontrollably into an American flag when you are not American expends more energy and dignity than I care to relate. And yet, we still expose ourselves over and over to situations that threaten our states of general happiness, even when we know for certain that we will be disappointed, depressed, and/or dehydrated at the last. I am fairly certain that this function of human behaviour has absolutely no adaptive significance whatsoever. So why do we do it?

At moments like the one below, I can't help but think it is simply because despite the blood, sweat, and (most often) tears, it is one hell of a beautiful game.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and under most circumstances, I would be more than happy to oblige. As it stands, I can utter no more than a five-word phrase that has been more popular than ever before over the last three weeks:

"Marry me Hope, I'm Solo."

Well, that and "Stay gold, Ponyboy." But the irony in that statement is a bit too tough to handle just yet. Maybe tomorrow.

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

The Commercialization of Alexander McQueen: Part 1

So, after I was finished crying happily for my boyfriend Novak Djokovic today, I regressed back to hysterical weeping as I listened to "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?", a regrettable habit that developed curiously yesterday at approximately 3:48 PM GMT. Still teary eyed from all the cognitive dissonance that conflicting emotions tend to breed, I decided to calm myself with a tFS adventure, as I do (It is also a fantastic place whereby to discover other states of being, such as hatred and intense frustration, but we won't go into that.). As I flicked about through the forums, I stumbled upon a thread concerning the house of Alexander McQueen fashion house and the proposed increase in the label's commercialism following the Royal Wedding and it's significant involvement in those important cultural proceedings. I decided I had rather small opinion on the topic myself, and elected to reply. It would seem that my rather small opinion was actually a rather large opinion, and as such, I have deemed it appropriate to post my response to the blog; a decision not at all prompted by presiding guilt over my month and a half long absence. So, for your entertainment, my lords and ladies. I even decensored.

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I wouldn't say that the Royal Wedding has made the brand commercial at all to be honest. It certainly has increased public knowledge of the McQueen name (or perhaps Burton's), and interest in the house may have grown, but I don't think that it has really had much bearing on the commercial success of the house itself.

Regardless of how much interest and acclaim has been garnered by the designing of this bound-to-be-iconic wedding dress, the fact remains that the fashions of Alexander McQueen far exceed the depths of most people's pockets. Increased public interest will not make the public more wealthy, and as such, it will remain just that: interest.

It seems to me that the people who were able to buy McQueen's wares were in the know long before the wedding occurred. Whether they chose to spend was up to them, and as such, it seems more to be a matter of whether they found what the label was trying to sell appealing.

As has been established already, the dress was not what one would call "vintage McQueen" by any stretch; general opinion seems to be that it was too safe to be placed under that categorization. And yet, this dress is all anyone seems to have been talking about in the months leading up to and after the event in question. Upon it's unveiling, women (and some men) around the world oooh-ed and ahhhh-ed and proclaimed it a masterpiece. Brides-to-be decided that it was perfect and they wanted one just like it. One documentarian quipped that dress makers in Asia would have replicas prepared for shipment before Kate even made it to the altar. The dress was a veritable commercial success. Which is where I take issue with this notion of the house becoming commercialized: how can one proclaim an avant garde fashion house to be "commercial"?

Call me ignorant, but I have generally interpreted the terms "avant garde" and "commercial" as being nigh on direct contrasts of each other. What is "avant garde" is before it's time, and correspondingly confrontational for the general public precisely because it falls out of step with what is popular at the time, what they want, which we would define as "commercial" in that it stands to make money. Products that are "commercial" not only make money, but they are produced with the intent to do so. Seeing as the fashion industry is a business with an intent to make a buck, it's rather difficult to say that anyone involved doesn't harbour commercial motives in just about everything they do within that realm. However, we seem to have decided here that the house of McQueen is one with a reputation for maintaining a strong dedication to the art of fashion, and an avant garde art at that. So the problem arises with this conflict that has occurred between the historical reputation of the house as being of the artistic camp, and the newer collections and Royal Wedding endeavour under Sarah Burton as being of a commercial one.

What surprises me is that nobody has really commented on the elephant tap dancing in the corner, being that Alexander McQueen, the named man himself, is dead. He is gone, and Sarah Burton has inherited control of the house. With the loss of the man who was literally iconic to the brand by lending his name to it, there is a corresponding loss of stability. Burton may have been McQueen's right-hand girl for forever, but she is not Alexander McQueen, as a number of you have pointed out already. What reason is there for anybody to trust her to do what he managed, fielding often extremely provoking collections and ideas each season, throwing all caution to the wind?

One would assume that McQueen chose to keep Burton by his side for so long for a reason. Am I the only one who would deem it appropriate to believe that it could possibly be because she shared a similar knack for confrontational creativity? A meeting of the minds seems a necessity in this case, else she would have been sacked early on. Under this assumption, I would argue that Burton is of a feather with the late McQueen. Barring the wedding dress, she has continued much in the same vein as McQueen finished, and has received much acclaim for doing so.

But that word "same" is suspicious. Fashion changes from season to season, and the label under McQueen was not exempt from this. From fall to spring and back again, he would often explore extremes of expression, and while he maintained certain signatures that were some times subtle and other times obvious, it was rare that you could describe two seasons with that uncomfortable word, "same". But under Burton, we have seen two collections that we might describe as being "similar," and that is a terrifying thought. Perhaps even more frightening is the word "safe," but beyond causing rampant fear and shrieks of dismay in fans of the formerly rebellious house, I think it is the most important word in this discussion.

I would remind you that Alexander McQueen is dead at this point. A volatile man behind a volatile design house, but not just any design house: the one he founded. Lee Alexander McQueen gave his name to his brand, and as such, we are to perceive that it is his vision because it is his brand. We do not see the Gucci Group, or PPR, we see Alexander McQueen. As such, who's place was it to say "Bollocks, this shit ain't Alexander McQueen, this is just mindless rubbish!" while McQueen himself was still alive? Certainly, we could curse and throw things, and say we didn't like what he was doing, but under no circumstances did anyone have the right to say that McQueen was not promoting his own vision. He was him, not just any designer, but the designer. We didn't get a say. Sarah Burton, however, is not Alexander McQueen. She is Sarah Burton. So we are more than qualified to say she is not promoting another person's vision.

This is where we return to that word "safe". In working side by side with Alexander McQueen, Sarah Burton was relatively safe. Backlash for a collection would be more harshly felt by McQueen himself, but he appeared happy to take it (to a point) and keep Burton with him in spite of it all. It seems inconceivable that McQueen would sack her himself: he trusted her for so long and through so much that her place in his house was nearly permanent. However, in inheriting the Alexander McQueen brand, Sarah Burton was no longer safe. She was not safe. Suddenly, she was the face of a company in who's shadows she had hung for a decade and a half, and she had the misfortune of not having that ever important name, which meant she could be questioned, told she was not carrying on the legacy of the man who's name the brand bore. Certainly, nobody would question La Donatella. Nobody will question Alexander Wang, or Marc Jacobs, or Giorgio Armani for not carrying on the legacy of their brands because they are their brands, mind, body, and soul. But we question Karl Lagerfeld at Chanel. We question Peter Dundas at Pucci. John Galliano was recently run out of Christian Dior because he gave us reason to question his embodiment of another man's brand.

In light of this sudden and previously unexperienced pressure, it seems to me only logical that Sarah Burton would be "safe" with her first few collections for the house as she works to stabilize her own position in the company. I might even say it would be rash to take risks as would be expected of her predecessor so early in her reign. What if her risk proved a folly instead of a fairy tale? Unlike McQueen, there is no name standing between a catastrophe collection and the sack. She has no protection, no tenure. So she plays it safe with collections that are really quite fantastic if truth be told, just not as extreme, not as provocative as we expect from McQueen. In doing so, she gradually builds the trust and belief of the people watching her every move, and as this grows, her position becomes safer.

The opportunity to design the wedding dress for future Queen of England was a get out of jail free card for Sarah Burton. Burberry may very well be the most commercial of Britain's fashion labels, but after John Galliano's fall from grace, it is Alexander McQueen that is left as the pinnacle of British [I]fashion[/I] in this period of time. Tying the most prestigious fashion house to the Royals is a match made in heaven, but for no one more than Sarah Burton. Where her name is being sung as well as "the house of McQueen" in praise for the dress, she have given her name weight, and enormous weight at that. In doing so, she has bought herself time at the house of McQueen.

As we have seen, having a good name is not a protector against all questions, but it will save you a few blushes. Karl Lagerfeld has made plenty of mistakes at the head of Chanel, but we will forgive him a certain number because he is Karl Lagerfeld. As a result of Kate Middleton's dress, and a couple season's of "safe" collections, Burton has managed to obtain for herself a similar type of insurance. She is now relatively stable in her position. One might interpret this recovered state of "safety" as being akin to a position where you have nothing you can lose. In my mind, there is no better place than that from which to be dangerous.

____________________

I'm sure you've all noticed the "Part 1" in the title. I would encourage you to interpret that to mean I am not yet done on this subject. 

Peace, love, and floating,

Gill Ford

You've Got To Earn Your Leather In This Part of Town

Lady Gaga - Born This Way - 2011

Lady Gaga certainly earns her leather with her third record Born This Way. It comes in the form of a straitjacket, but then, most geniuses happen to also be total nutters, so you know, no holds barred. Born This Way is perhaps the most eclectic mix of songs since Madonna's greatest hits. The Elton John-esque rock ballad "Yoü and I" started making its rounds last year, you've heard the "Express Yourself"-inspired title track a million times already, and the schizophrenic tug-o-war that was "Judas" caused religious rallies from coast to coast. More recently, Gaga unleashed the power-pop perfection of "The Edge of Glory", which featured Clarence Clemons with a face-melting sax solo. Fashion fans might also remember Gaga's promotion through Nicola Formichetti's Thierry Mugler fashion shows this season, with the Berlin "Scheiße"-show and a remixed "Government Hooker" both featuring in Paris this season. 

Thankfully (or not, depending on how open you are to variety), the remaining tracks on Born This Way are no less consistent in their genres. "Americano" is the update of The Fame Monster's "Alejandro", but perhaps from Alejandro's perspective this time around, featuring Spanish guitars and brass instrumentation, as well as some great harmonizing and gunshots. I could see it fitting in nicely with a modernized rendition of Dirty Dancing. "Bloody Mary" is fittingly named, with the sound of the song indicating a virgin with blood on her hands, clearly going mad, with priests singing in chorus in the background. "Black Jesus + Amen Fashion" is sounding kinda 80s, "Highway Unicorn (Road To Love)" is sounding kinda 90s. Surprisingly, "Heavy Metal Lover" is not a heavy metal song (this role is filled by "Electric Chapel"), but is perhaps the sequel to The Fame Monster's "Dance in the Dark" (My favorite off that record, by the way. "Americano" stole my heart here. And then "Heavy Metal Lover" ate it). Oh, and let's not forget, on the two-disc edition, you also get the country version of "Born This Way".


There are a number of themes threaded through the record, with the strongest ones being no big surprise: religion, love for yourself and others for their individuality. But the religious message is not quite what the American Catholic League seems to be interpreting it as (is that even what they're called? I'm snatching at straws here). Judas isn't actually Judas, Mary isn't actually Mary, and Jesus isn't really Jesus. In fact, they are metaphors (surprise!). So what is the not-so-Virginal Gaga preaching to her loyal following of Little Monsters? In all it's non-sacrilegious, uncontroversial glory: Pop culture as religion.

Kind of anticlimactic, right? Well, at least given all those vehement haters claiming she's an Illuminati who's trying to take over the world with the power of Satan or whatever. I mean, yes, she is taking over the world. But she's promoting love, sax solos, and freaking unicorns. (Regardless of what religion you're following, are you seriously going to mount the claim that God hates unicorns? Ke$ha even had to put a disclaimer in her music video for "Blow" to assure everyone that "No unicorns were harmed in the making of this video". There's like, laws against this shit, they're an endangered species, you know.) Before Gaga, I'd never been religious about anything but the Spice Girls, so perhaps I'm a little biased. But in all honesty, take your holy books, discrimination, and halos. I find the image of an honest nutcase bottle-blond in a meat dress riding a unicorn with a disco stick sceptre and a lobster hat while preaching peace and love way more appealing.

Song order is quite pivotal here as well, I think. You get the sense of an actual journey, whereby Gaga traverses the roads of love and hate, peace and rebellion, failure and success, life and death. It is the final three tracks that bring you the most positive feelings though. In "Heavy Metal Lover", she heartbreakingly sings "I could be your girl girl girl girl girl girl, but would you love me if I ruled the world world world?" questioning whether she can have both true love and true greatness, or if they are mutually exclusive paths. With "The Queen", we see Gaga finally embracing the fame and love that is given to her freely by her fans (not to be confused with the fame she has manufactured for herself), and promising to be for them what they want her to be. "Yoü and I" brings hope for the lonely queen in the castle, and challenges the notion that you can never go home again. This all culminates in "The Edge of Glory", wherein Gaga has reached a point of near self-actualization as it were, achieving her fame, the adoration of her fans, and the individual love that she worried she might never receive. 


I'm not sure if one can make the judgement that Gaga isn't already glory manifest, but if she still has doubts, I don't want to abate them. Everytime I hear "The Edge of Glory" this image pops into my head of a dock built many years ago. The wood is old, but not well-worn by any means. Suddenly, you reach a point where the dock clearly ended at one point. Through the mist, you can see a sign that reads "The Edge of Glory". Carved into it are random things like "Elvis was here. Uh huhhhhhh". But the dock continues after this point. It is not well-made anymore, it is rickety, falling apart in places, the roughly cut boards hanging on by single nails. There are massive rocks leaping from the water on either side of your path. You keep following it into the fog, careful not to fall off the crooked, narrow path. Eventually you hear a strange pounding noise. It throbs in your head, faster than your resting heartbeat, and you are urged to "hurry up, Franklin". The mist starts to clear a little, and in the distance you see the source of the noise: a minuscule blonde woman relentlessly sledge hammering a mountain that stands directly in the way of her fragile but determined path. There is a standard tied to her back, flailing in the occasional breath of wind. It is bright red and declares "The Edge of Glory".

Lady Gaga is a perfectionist, which ironically carries with it the fact that she will never see herself as perfect. She may reach the edge of glory time and time again, but in her own mind, this concept of glory will forever be a carrot hanging on a string just beyond her reach. What is great and entertaining for us though, is that despite perfection being unattainable, perfectionists will continue to strive for it, so Lady Gaga will be reaching, and clawing, and stretching for it until the end of her days. Which will make for all manner of ridiculously wonderful things on which to feast our eyes, ears, hearts, and minds ( And other bodily orfices. I mean this seriously. Lady Gaga's bluffing with her muffin no longer. She wants your whiskey mouth all over her blond south.).

If you look at each song individually, it looks almost as if they don't fit together at all. I mean, who in their right mind would put a sax solo on the same record as an industrial Berlin club thumper? What kind of artist makes the cover of their record a picture of themselves melded into a motorcycle? What sane person would writhe about in what looks like a mass of colourful unicorn bogies in a music video? Well, no one. Which strengthens my overarching point here, being that Lady Gaga is a complete mental. But the day this woman goes to see an effective therapist is the day I lose all faith in pop music.

Psychosexual, pseudo-religious brilliance, for the win.

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

The Tale of a Fairy: A Study in Frejanomics and the Catherine McNeil Effect

There is little else in the world of fashion that is more exciting than the Chanel Cruise collections, which are shown in wealth-laden/fantastic/breath-taking locations each year. But this event is not anticipated for the clothes so much as for the inevitable euphoria that comes in the form of Kaiser Karl's endeavours into the world of cinema. Last year, he took us to St Tropez with the gripping feature Remember Now. But for 2012, he has really given it his all, travelling down the coast to the Antibes for The Tale of a Fairy (Part 1, Part 2), starring a frighteningly high-strung Kristen McMenamy, a gorgeous-as-ever Anna Mouglalis, and a curiously talkative Freja Beha Erichsen. There's some pretty boys as well.

Karl's filmmaking skills have certainly improved since last season; in terms of the cinematography, it was very well done, and the acting wasn't quite as horrendously embarrassing and discomforting as it was last time around. Of course, nobody really payed any attention to any of that sort of thing. I mean, I would totes magotes have found those facets interesting. I might even have paid attention to the clothes if Anna's numerous admirers were ever wearing any. As it was, I was distracted by the same thing as everyone else, being the Sapphic shenanigans that completely dominated the final 25% of the film, during which 90% of Freja Beha's fans sighed with cathartic satisfaction.

I mean, as scandalous as it is, who really gives a shit that Kristen McMenamy is apparently carrying on with Baptiste Giabiconi, who is apparently her godson? Who cares about how 'pretty' the film looked, or how 'creative' the collection was, or how 'improved' Karl's cinematic skills are? Keeping in mind that we have not been enticed to look forward to this annual event in the expectation of anything Oscar worthy, one would think that the latter might have been noted more by all the highly educated, realistic, and critical viewers who turned up for the affair. As this was not the case, The Tale of a Fairy will be from hereafter referred to as The Time Where Freja and Anna were Pashing in the Lou. Or, for a multitude of others, The Time Where Freja Was Pashing Someone I Didn't Know, But Imagined was Me, in the Lou. 

I don't know what Chanel herself would have to say about all of this, but I have a feeling that it's not really a good sign when the clothes you have made are not just overshadowed, but entirely ignored because you've filmed FBE enjoying the taste of another girl's cherry chapstick. I read an article a few days ago that I found rather interesting, and actually quite relevant to this case here. Under the title "Skinny Again, Crystal Renn," David P Dykes (the irony is killing you all right now, I know) of fashionising.com muses over the famous anorexic-turned-plus-sized model's recent shoot for TUSH with Ellen von Unwerth, and the concept of the "celebrity model," pioneered by (who else) Kate Moss and attempted by various others, none of whom have managed similar success. He notes that "the Catherine McNeil effect" (a.k.a., when the celebrity of a model takes precedence over their work) is one that a number of models have unfortunately fallen victim to as models become ever more interesting to the public. Renn, who is perhaps the most well known plus sized model in fashion right now (seriously, Tyra, shut the fuck up), is remarkably un-plus sized in the shoot. I would particularly like to draw attention to the final part of the article:

[...] when you're a model your career is dependent on helping fashion houses sell clothing and accessories but their target market sees your photos and take in solely the shape of your body, there's a danger for your career.

In the same vein, I am wondering whether Freja's personal life may threaten the longevity of her career. There are many brands making money off of her at the moment (Georg Jensen and Harry Winston, to name a few), and I am curious to know what about her appeal appears to be driving the sales (assuming that there are no confounding variables in the correlations between her being the face of a brand and that brand's sales spikes). Does Freja sell because of her 'look', or does she sell because of the asterix note that reads "lesbian"?

I find it hard to believe that enough people are aware of the numerous rumours surrounding her personal life for there to be any reason but the former. She is (in)famous across the fashion industry and it's followers, but I think it would be ridiculous at this point to suppose that the majority of the general public even know what her name is, let alone what team she purportedly bats for, and that seems to be the best thing for a model. But with Freja's ever-rising popularity and notoriety, I fear that she may find herself falling victim to a similar fate as her rumoured ex (Side note: if this ends up happening, how incredibly tragic is the tale of McBeha? Someone tell Karl. Sure, a tragic film might get you a SAG award, but a tragic film about lesbians? Charlize Theron and Natalie Portman will be the first to attest that those ones win freaking Oscars.). What happens when people do know her name, and even more dauntingly, care enough to investigate what's going on behind the scenes? How will designers (other than Karl, obviously) react to a model who the public views increasingly as "the lesbian model"?

If the most recent pigeon-holing of Freja as "the androgynous model" is anything to go by, labels are hard to shake in an industry where models are meant to be blank canvasses. The boyish cut Freja sported for a couple of years resulted in a drop in her workload that rattled her loyal fanbase. But hair grows back, and once hers did, the pigeon-holing began to happen less frequently, to the point where she is now garnering more attention from designers with more feminine aesthetics. It is my hope that the growing publicity surrounding Freja and her sexuality does not become a limiting factor in what is an already stellar career, but as Dykes so eloquently indicated, fashion is not supposed to be about the model, but the clothes and the message of the brand that model is promoting. Freja is a good model to be sure, but is she good enough for designers to risk including the (sometimes dangerous) term "lesbian" in their list of attributes? I certainly don't care, but then, I am not a market scientist.

Cometh the Catherine, cometh the Freja.

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

Top HF Runway Model Ranks

I've added a new page to the Not So Swedish blog, which will house the new Top High Fashion Runway Model Ranks. I know very few people who understand the system behind the models.com rankings, so I decided to devise my own. The details of how points are awarded are all on that page now, along with the preliminary rankings after the first round has been completed. For anyone interested, the top 10 is presently:

1. Julia Saner
2. Mirte Mass
3. Monika "Jac" Jagaciak
4. Anja Rubik
5. Ruby Aldridge
6. Arizona Muse
7. Daphne Groeneveld
8. Freja Beha Erichsen
9. Frida Gustavsson
10. Kasia Struss

I stress that these ranks are based on runway ONLY. Points are earned on the basis of how many shows a model walks, the quality of those shows, and whether they open or close. Bonuses are also awarded for certain milestones.

At the present time, I have no intentions of incorporating print work (magazine covers, editorials, advertising campaigns, etc.) into this, as such a task would be enormous, and one that I am incapable of completing on my own. In the future, this may change, but for now, I hope this new system is helpful!

Peace, love, and floating,

Gill Ford

God Save The Queen, Long Live The McQueen

In case you didn't already know, the Royal Wedding of William and Kate was uh-maaaazing. He looked smashing in his Irish Guard uniform. She looked stunning in her Sarah Burton-designed Alexander McQueen gown. My fiancée, Prince Harry, looked very dashing himself in his Blues and Royals (You are all invited to our wedding by the way, which will take place promptly in 5-10 years. Kisses!). Pippa Middleton also turned heads in another dress by the house of McQueen. I might also add that Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II wore yellow. Very on trend Ma'am. On trend, indeed.

Elton and David were in attendance, as were others of the "Royal (but of a different sort than the Madges and the Middleton)" folk, among them, Posh and Becks, and Rowan Atkinson. Fashion was very much on the front lines (as one can always expect with these things) and this was all fascinating, but I was momentarily distracted by trees. You think I'm being sarcastic, but I'm actually not. There were TREES in the Abbey, actual living trees! And I have to say, it was one of the best decisions they made in the field of decorum, not just because of the addition of the colour (which played magnificently with the red, white, and gold) but also because they drew attention to the love that the couple has been so very characterized by for the duration of this courtship. It's a natural love, one that is real, not manufactured or forced like we saw with Charles and Diana. 

That love was on display today, as much as the two tried to restrain it with the royal expectancy of chaste and moral public behaviour (Which we might translate for the low-brow among you as "boring". This is, of course,  excepting the original People's Princess, Diana; Fergie's recent dramas; and anything Prince Harry has done, ever.). They couldn't help but smile broadly through out, which left me in quite a state, especially seeing as I had completely used all my tissues by the time Kate made it to the altar in the gorgeous McQueen dress. I couldn't even help myself, I got completely worked up and sentimental, sighing with the "I will"s, giggling at one of the choir boys' eyebrows dancing a jig as he sang, crinkling my brow in empathy as Lizzy shed a tear, and letting out a wail when the newly wedded Cambridges mounted their little carriage and Duchess Catherine  turned to her husband and said through her wide grin "I am so happy!" I'm not even going to get into the doubling up of the Royal Kiss at Buckingham Palace. Dehydration is simply far too close for comfort, and would be a stain on this wonderful day. 

Say what you want about the Royal Family, there are few in the world capable of inspiring such pure fantasy in the minds and hearts of people. I was not yet born when Charles and Diana married in 1981, and as a result, I missed out on one of the grandest moments in modern culture. As magical as the story of Lady Di was, I think the one that is now in the works for Kate Middleton is one that is even more of a bedtime story than hers. By virtue of being a commoner who marries into royalty, not because she had a title, or certain type of blood, but purely for love, Kate Middleton keeps our wildest dreams and imaginations alive. And if there was any lingering doubt, when she stepped out in that McQueen dress, she proved that those flights of fancy will always live on... Necause true fairytales? They are immortal. 

God save the Queen, and long live the McQueen.

Peace, love, and floating,

Gill Ford

Have A Hoppy Easter!

I sent you models for Valentine's Day, so I suppose I should continue the trend. And because I care so much, I've taken the time to rummage in about in the historical vaults (okay, not so historic, but not like... yesterday) for  mixed media. I have triumphantly emerged with a commercial, a fashion show, and an editorial. I bet you're all expecting Sasha Pivovarova in Louis Vuitton's bunny ears, right? If that's the case, you're completely wrong (though, Sasha offers a brief introduction to her own friend of the Leporidae variety in Les filles en Vogue). No, for the darling readers of my blog, I give you the Easter Bunny himself. Who may or may not also be HRH Alexander McQueen (may he rest in peace). Or Robert Buckley.

Kate Moss for Basement's "Dream Collection" by Martín Romanella (2011)

Alexander McQueen - Spring/Summer 2009

"Street Chic" by Peter Lindbergh

Harper's Bazaar US - March 2009

Catherine McNeil and Robert Buckley

 

Happy Easter my fashionable, Not-So-Swedish friends! May your scavenging be successful, and your eggs aplenty. Kate Moss's most certainly are.

Peace, love, and floating,

Gill Ford

Photos courtesy of tFS user jacobs

On The Move

#justslayin RT @Ceejayklmnop: Catherine McNeil & Maryna Linchuk are now with @FordModels! Two more stunning girls on their roster.about 1 hour ago via TweetDeck

Please try to comprehend how incandescently happy this made me. The rumours are true... Cat McNeil is still alive! Bearing in mind she's been breaking for what seems like ages now, who knows when this new partnership will turn out any new work, but I'm very happy to see there's some positive movement on the front. Setting aside all the hairier politics... is this contract just with New York? Or has Ford taken over for Next overseas as well? 
Cat McNeil went bobbed and black the past November, with these the only official look at the new 'do 
Sweet deal for Maryna as well, who also booked the Dolce & Gabbana Fall/Winter 2011 campaign recently, and features on the cover of Vogue Russia for May. Congratulations! Best of luck with the new agency!
Cover girl and new Ford model, Maryna Linchuk
Well, things to see, people to do! May all our questions be answered quite soon! 
Peace, love, and floating,Gill Ford
Photos courtesy of tFS users candlebougie and tarsha

But In The Cultural Sense, I Just Speak In Future Tense

Can we PLEASE talk about Lady Gaga's newest single, "Judas"?

This monstrosity of a song was leaked (or, shall we say 'leaked') on April 15th, four days earlier than expected by the majority of the world's population. And I mean it, this is a monster of a song. Upon hearing it for the first time, I could only describe it as "what would happen if you locked ABBA in an asylum and made them sing hardcore German house music". There's a sort of schizophrenia to the track, with Gaga demonstrating her soft spot for 80s pop during the chorus (which actually has me thinking a lot of Cascada's "Everytime We Touch"), but evidently torn between this and modern industrial techno.

It's very much a successor to the throne previously held by "Poker Face" and "Bad Romance", but at it's lighter points, it always feels more sparkles and sequins than "Poker Face", and at it's darkest, it is definitely more deranged than "Bad Romance". Conceptually, the swinging between the two extremes works in Gaga's favour, as the song is about a woman torn between two men (Jesus and Judas, but strip away the Biblical references and thematically, it's just a bad romance with a good romance thrown into the mix) who are essentially polar opposites of good and evil. But it seems that this might prove to be a pitfall for a lot of fans and critics alike, with more than one declaring that the chorus sounds like it comes from another song. That's all well and good, but Gaga thrives on the conceptual side of music, so there is certainly the argument to be made for judgement being held specifically in that arena.

I think it's safe to say that no one is safe from Mother Monster. In all honesty, can you not just picture in your minds all of the strictly religious parents marking April 19th as the day that they rid their homes of anything that might allow their children to get their hands on this song? But then, beyond all expectations -- actually, I take that back, I think it's about time we expect the unexpected from Lady Gaga -- the song catches everyone off guard and appears early? Holy balls, you can't protect yourself, and quite frankly, it's useless to try against a woman clearly more skilled in guerrilla warfare than Che Guevara and Fidel Castro.

Earlier in this post, I put 'leaked' in quotation marks. Well, for those of you who aren't aware, Judas betrayed Jesus to the Jews, and then Jesus was crucified by the Romans. One might interpret the leaking of a highly anticipated single as being a betrayal of Gaga's trust. Now, I'm not saying that Gaga necessarily leaked the song on a fake Youtube account because the concept fit oh so perfectly with the title of the song. But I might be implying that. Strongly.

It helps if you think about the dates as well. Four days prior to the actual release date? Forgive me if I'm not clear on my Biblical facts... but didn't Judas betray Jesus four days before the Resurrection? And I don't think there is any doubt that dates were important to Gaga in deciding when this song would released, with the proposed drop falling scandalously close to Easter.

I'm not positive on any of this, obviously. But with the amount of thought that Gaga puts into everything she does certainly makes this all plausible. Lord knows she's been verbally crucified in the last few days as a result of this song, which is, admittedly, rather confrontational from the Christian perspective (Hold on to your holy water though, the video will be one hell of a ride; I daresay Amanda Ware would call it "a wet fish to the face".); but I wonder what we can expect from Gaga on the 19th? Attendees of that Nashville show, be warily excited for what's in store: I have a feeling she might have something special brewing for you...

So what do you reckon? Are you in love with "Judas"? Or has Gaga preyed on religion one too many times?

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

I'm Your Prostitute, You Gon' Get Some

The Kills - Midnight Boom - 2008

The Kills have been one of my favorite bands for months now (this post is very much overdue), and Midnight Boom is the record that I've been listening to pretty much nonstop since the New Year. Why am I so completely and obviously obsessed with VV and Hotel at this point in time? Well, let me see...

Never mind that their next record, Blood Pressures, is out TODAY...

Never mind that Alison Mosshart is a member of The Dead Weather and bffs with Jack White...

Never mind that Jamie Hince is marrying HRH Kate (that would be Moss, by the way, not Middleton)...

Never mind that they account for 2/3 of Polaroid and photobooth net incomes...

Never mind that they are effortlessly bad-ass and laidback at the same time...

You can take your pick, really. But when it comes down to it, I appreciate the musical/performance side of what they're all about. Well, that, and it was hilarious when Mosshart wore the same leopard print blouse to every show for like a year. You know what, though? Being rough around the edges never hurt anyone; in fact,  the Kills are the perfect arty garage rock/post punk revival bands because they have the street cred and antics to go along with their beat-driven music. And that leopard print blouse was comfortable, dammit.

*And don't forget to tack on the missing track "Night Train" if you aren't downloading from the UK. The whole record is like going on a bender, with the final track "Goodnight Bad Morning" representing your hangover. But with "Night Train" added on the end, you'll be ready to head back out on the town that night. Or at least drive off into the sun in a blaze of glory... Yeah, stay in school, kids.

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PJ Harvey - Let England Shake - 2011

I was reading reviews for PJ Harvey's newest record a week or so after it was released (I like to do this on occasion, to make sure that the critics aren't critically inept), and was most taken by the review by NME's Mike Williams. He proclaimed: "Francis Ford Coppola can lay claim to the war movie. Ernest Hemingway the war novel. Polly Jean Harvey, a 41-year-old from Dorset, has claimed the war album." NME gave the record a ten star rating (out of ten), and also awarded it the title "[PJ Harvey's] most brilliant record to date". As I was completely in awe of it myself, and I can't quite think of any better way of describing it, to be honest. So I'll just leave it at that. 

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Lykke Li - Wounded Rhymes - 2011

I love to play up my not so Swedish side on this blog, but there are times when you need to show a bit of Swedish blood love/lust. In no case is this more evident than that of Lykke Li's new record, Wounded Rhymes. My brother is not a fan, but aside for an occasional affinity for ABBA, he's got limited and questionable taste in music. Wounded Rhymes is well in the running for best record of 2011 in my opinion. Asked what type of music it is by a friend, I replied hesitantly with "tribal alternative indie electro-rock". And I can't really think of a better way to describe it. The drums are an enormous part of the album, pounding like an ominous heartbeat through each track; it's an impeccable example of how beat driven a lot of music out of Scandinavia is right now. You get Irish tin whistles here and there too, adding a wistful tinge to songs like "Love Out of Lust". Oh, you get all the regular bits like guitar, bass and synths too, by the way. In case you were starting to think this was going to sound like what the White Stripes (RIP) would have if they were around when Beowulf was written (having said that, some sections do sound like they might be very comfortable there).

Beyond being brilliant in the instrumental landscapes it paints, this record is also incredible lyrically. You get the sense that each song is simply a rendering of a poem from some anonymous poet, never intending the words on the page to be seen by any eyes other their own, and thus felt free to be unrestrainedly honest. You appreciate that freedom listening, because it allows for the expression of feelings that are much stronger and more heartfelt than a lot of what you get from other artists these days. I stress that 'artist,' by the way. With Wounded Rhymes, Lykke Li and producer Björn Yttling (of Peter Bjorn and John) have created a record that is not only great music, but also art. And no, those don't always go hand in hand.

*Also, Lykke would like everyone to know that "Get Some" is about power. Not sex. Yes, I'm aware that "I'm your prostitute, you gon' get some" doesn't exactly deter from this common misconception.

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It is now going on 2:30, and I have an essay that wants finishing (That Beowulf reference was a bit of a hint as to where my mind's at right now... here's to Tolkien, Galadriel, and "the backward view"!). Part 2 of La Vrai Trésor de Christian Dior soon to come, as well as a feature on a certain Alice in Wondøland...

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

La Vrai Trésor de Christian Dior: Partie 1

I've gotten a few questions regarding the whole John Galliano saga dominating the press of late, so I will (not) address them here. I am in complete agreement that the racist remarks John Galliano has allegedly made against the Jewish and Asian peoples are unacceptable. Hatred of any sort, whether against a religion, ethnicity, sex, gender, sexual orientation, or any other affiliation is despicable, and I regret that prejudice and discrimination are so prevalent in some form in the vast majority of societies around the world.

However, I refuse to make a judgement on the character of John Galliano or this situation at the present time. While I do not condone the words that he said in the video, nor the alleged racism he displayed at La Perle which brought about his arrest, there are always at least two sides to every story. I don't think that Galliano's side of events should be given any less weight than his accusers' simply because he drunkenly uttered some admittedly grotesque phrases on a different occasion.

As for firing Galliano, I think it was the best decision Dior could have made in the circumstances. Regardless of whether the incidents at La Perle were unprovoked or not, they need to distance themselves from Galliano's name to preserve their brand's reputation. It's just good business.

I have some questions for you all to contemplate though, while you wait for the materialization of my own opinion on the matter. There's no need for you to answer them at all, but I would encourage you to think about them anyway; it might help you think more critically about the situation at hand:

1) Can you judge a person based on one isolated incident? Or indeed, two?

2) How does one define a racist person? Can you be classified as racist if there are only limited examples of you having made racist comments or had racist thoughts?

3) Is there a difference between a person who simply thinks racist thoughts, one who speaks those thoughts aloud, and one who acts on those thoughts?

4) Is it right to cast a person from society because they have made a mistake? Can we forgive a mistake if an apology is forthcoming?

I have related before how I am taking psychology classes at university, and things of this sort (reasoning, judgement, prejudice, etc.) are all things that we have studied recently (Indeed, John Galliano's case has come up as a topic of discussion in my Social Psychology class not infrequently in recent weeks). Analyzing the different arguments for and against everyone involved in this from Galliano to Natalie Portman has been an interesting experience, especially given it's correspondence to my course material. I find the situation incredibly sad, but there is also something to be said for its value as a case study of social and cognitive psychology, political science, and the French legal system, not to mention the economics of the fashion industry.

Because I find this entire topic so interesting, I will continue writing on it as new information becomes available, and as I pick up on things. I would encourage you all to participate in the debate yourselves, but if you choose to do so, please respect each other's opinions: criticize constructively, or not at all.

My next topic in this series will be regarding Dior, their show at Paris Fashion Week, and such things. I cannot guarantee a date when this will be completed, as I am about to head into a second slew of midterms at school, but I will post it as quickly as I may.

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

Give Me Good Good Times Around The Bend

Okay, as requested, here's a 50-song snippet of my current playlist... I've tried to give as wide a variety of bands SLASH artists as I can, but there's a few repeats, just because I'm a little obsessed with particular records at the moment. Enjoy!

"August" by Cha Cha Cohen
"Copenhagen" by Kira Skov
"Getting Down" by the Kills
"Rainbow" by Oh Land
"Hey" by the Pixies
"Laugh, I Almost Died" by the Rolling Stones
"Blue Blood Blues" by the Dead Weather
"Let England Shake" by PJ Harvey
"Since I Been Loving You" by Led Zeppelin
"Your Touch" by the Black Keys
"Brain Cycles" by Radio Moscow
"Grounds For Divorce" by Elbow
"Mexican Dogs" by the Cold War Kids
"Barbra Streisand" by Duck Sauce
"Riders of the Freeway" by Kira and the Ghost Riders
"Jack Sparrow" by Hans Zimmer
"I Fought the Angels" by the Delgados
"Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts" by Brandon Flowers
"Girl With One Eye" by Florence + the Machine
"Goodbye Babylon" by the Black Keys
"If The World" by Guns 'n Roses
"A Smile That Explodes" by Joseph Arthur
"Debaser" by the Pixies
"New Fang" by Them Crooked Vultures
"Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones
"Around the Bend" by the Asteroids Galaxy Tour
"Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" by Arcade Fire
"Barcelona" by the Plastiscines
"Night Train" by the Kills
"Up Is Down" by Hans Zimmer
"Broke Down" by Radio Moscow
"Hotel California" by Alabama 3
"Sound Sleep" by Serebro
"Catherine" by PJ Harvey
"Eyes On Fire" by Blue Foundation
"Sigh No More" by Mumford & Sons
"Telephone (Instrumental)" by Lady Gaga
"Heart-Shaped Glasses (When The Heart Guides The Hand)" by Marilyn Manson
"Venus In Furs" by the Velvet Underground
"Dawn" by Jean-Yves Thibaudet
"Under the Sheets" by Ellie Goulding
"Impossible Germany" by Wilco
"Black Balloon" by the Kills
"Bloodbuzz Ohio" by the National
"Dull Life" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"Sun of a Gun" by Oh Land
"Poker Face (Space Cowboy Remix)" by Lady Gaga
"Opposites Attract" by Clint Mansell
"Give Me One Reason" by Tracy Chapman
"Forever Young" by the Youth Group

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

Stand Up Straight At The Foot Of Your Love

Okay my dear not so Swedish friends, here is what you should be listening to. Or what you should have been listening to since May 2010. Lord knows this applies to me as well.

The National - High Violet - 2010

The following is a story about one of the ways Gill Ford discovers new music.

Once upon a time in January, I took my monthly trip to HMV to pick up some more records to add to my extensive collection. Okay, you're right, my trips to HMV are more daily than anything else, but that's not important. When I go on these trips, I always have in mind at least one record that I know for sure I want. I decide on these perhaps because they are classic albums that are necessary additions, or perhaps I know that I like the band. I also have a rule that if I like three or more songs on the record, I am obliged to buy it. On this day, I went arrived with the intention of purchasing for myself the latest Cold War Kids record, Mine Is Yours. As you know, I'm a fan of the Cold War Kids, so I was destined to purchase it under that criterion. 

This is the first step of my music-buying process. The second is to find album number two (or three, or four, or whatever, dependent upon how impulsive I am planning to be on the day). This album is always a blind item. Criteria for selection as a blind item include: never having heard the band before; never having heard OF the band before; having heard good things about the band from other people; or a simple appreciation of aesthetic (cover art, title, song list, band name, etc.). I don't believe I had ever heard The National before, but I had heard this was a swell record. It had an interesting cover, and the title High Violet had me thinking of a certain exquisite brand of LSD. (Not that we at Not So Swedish condone the use of drugs. Stay in school, kids.) So one thing led to another, and before you could say "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," High Violet was officially the property of one Gill Ford. 

I returned to my humble abode, and listened through my new purchases. Lone behold, High Violet turned out to be totes brill (thanks to Nat for that rad descriptor). I actually mean it. Let's talk about tracks. That's another term for "songs" by the way. Turn your highbeams off, you filthy crackerjacks. I'm only reviewing a couple of songs on the record, because I don't want to ruin it completely, but I'm serious, this is one that you really ought to buy.

Tracks To Check Out:

1. "Terrible Love"
Oh alcoholism. Such a destructive and depressing subject, and yet, one hell of a moneymaker in the music world. For the people who capitalize on it, anyway. I suppose it's because we all love that sort of cathartic feeling we get when we realize that we are not suffering. Or at least, not as much as the character in the song. Take "Terrible Love," for example. This guy has begun drinking to deal with the death of his alcoholic best friend ("It takes an ocean not to break"). He is not yet caught in a web of addiction ("It's a terrible love and I'm walking with spiders"), but aside from his bottle, he is alone in his depression because he doesn't want to talk to anybody about what he's feeling ("It's quiet company"). He goes to the funeral, and, being vividly reminded of what the addiction has done to his friend, he resolves that they would not have wanted the same thing for him, though this had been his original plan ("But I won't follow you into the rabbit hole, I said I would, but then I saw your shivered bones: they didn't want me to"). So, we hear this, and we think "good job laddie, you're climbing out of it!", but then he reiterates the part about "walking with spiders" and it taking "an ocean not to break," and it now sounds like painful denial of the fact that he's already halfway down that rabbit hole.

2. "Anyone's Ghost"
Let's see how many birds we can hit with this stone of an album... "Anyone's Ghost" is about that stalker-esque obsession One gets for One's Unobtainable Lover. In this case, the Lover is very insecure, and has incredible difficulty letting people in, preferring to spend time alone. This has caused Lover's past relationships to last little more than a month, because no one can handle the issues of being submersed in all the issues. Key lines in the song for me we "You said it was not in my heart, it was; You said it should tear a kid apart, it does." Lover has difficulty believing the love of One because it is not obviously visible, but One is desperately in love, such that his entire identity and existence is at war with itself, fighting over a refusal to sacrifice independence and his obsession for Lover. He fears that if he gives in to the love he feels, his life will revolve around his Lover's, and he will cease to be little more than a ghost.

3. "Little Faith"
Still counting? Add adultery to the list of alcoholism and adoration. Well, maybe not actual adultery, but the suspicion of. I thought about this one for a while actually, fitting the verses to what seemed appropriate. The biggest clues were the use of the name Anna, and the fact that another song on the album was originally named after Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov. The connection to Tolstoy's Anna Karenina was thus uncovered in all it's tragic, tear-jerking glory. We have the story of a modern day Anna and Vronsky in the song "Little Faith;" Vronsky, a young and handsome army man, and Anna, a beautiful but aging Russian royal. After a long affair, Anna has divorced her husband (Karenin) and eloped with Vronsky, but as time has passed, they have come to find that their relationship is no longer as fulfilling as it once was. Anna feels Vronsky is growing apart from her and suspects he is cheating. She swings between phases of anger at his perceived distance from her (starting fights to get some sense of feeling), and depression over this and the pain and ostracism she has earned for herself by cheating on Karenin (which Vronsky tries to cure with jokes and outings that she used to enjoy). Much of the song is from Anna's perspective, though we also get Vronsky's, where he indicates that he is aware of her suspicions, and sarcastically remarks that she won't be satisfied with his dedication to her until all the beautiful women in the world are gone, and she won't be able to trust her own love until the world has forgiven her for cheating on her husband. All the while, he feels guilty for having tempted her, because had he not done so, she would not be experiencing the pain she is now, and Karenin (who was actually a pretty upstanding fellow prior to all this love nonsense) would not have been left so damaged. Until they can both forgive themselves for their sins, they are playing at being nuns and priests. Oh, in the book, Anna develops an addiction to opiates, and both she and Vronsky experience incidences of suicide ideation, attempt, and completion. Hooray for consistent themes!

4. "Afraid Of Everyone"
Mental illness, check. Legitimately, the poor fellow is so psychologically instable, there are no drugs capable of sorting it out. Well, speaking as a student of this field, that is the case with many things in psychopharmacology. But hey, two thumbs up for that placebo effect huh?

5. "Bloodbuzz Ohio"
Aaaand we have apathy! This guy borrows money from everyone, not just friends, but his family. Which becomes a massive problem when it's the only reason you keep them around. He "never [thinks] about love when [he thinks] about home". Why? Because home is where the hoard is. But let's rewind a little bit. Why does he need this money? The girlfriend. Who he loves dearly, so it's not like he's an antisocial jackass to everyone; he's perfectly capable of feeling love. Just only for her. When she finds out about how he's draining everyone dry, he denies it, claiming to be a totally upstanding guy. He fails to convince her, and ends up throwing himself on her windshield in a mad attempt to stop her from driving away.

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Again, not condoning the use of drugs. But you have to admit, it makes for fucking great music.

Peace, love, and floating,
Gill Ford

Prove The Importance Of My Clothes, Of My Pose, I Suppose

Saturday at NYFW kicked off with the runway return of Johnson Hartig and his Libertine label, and though his partner in crime, Cindy Greene, was not to be found by his side, there was no shortage of support, with the sisters Rodarte and Thom Browne all in attendance. As for the clothes, against all the odds, Libertine Fall 2011 exceeded expectations. Combining 60s silhouettes a la Jackie O with all those pretty colours you might remember from that time when you experimented with LSD, Hartig didn't hesitate to bring back the fucked-with-vintage feel of the label, but updated it with the electric palette. Screen printed graphics were of course a must, but also present were metallic brocade and sequins to amp up the sparkle. Though not for the faint of heart, this collection will win Libertine at least a few new fans, and mayhap peak the interest of old critics. I hope you're proud of yourself Johnson Hartig. I most certainly am.

Edun is becoming a bit of a favorite for me lately, and Sharon Wauchob held my attention with her Fall 2011 collection. As we've seen with collections from Rachel Zoe and Rebecca Minkoff most strongly so far this season, street style is very popular (not that we need a reminder, what with the popularity of blogs like Stockholm and Copenhagen Street Style, The Sartorialist, and Models Off Duty). There seems a rush to capitalize on this fascination with what people are donning on the concrete runway, and Wauchob has succeeded in doing so here, by creating a collection of pieces that actually look ready to wear. Oh, and that trench coat that opened the show? I'm seriously considering including it as an alternative to one of my leather jackets next season. You know I'm smitten when.

A presentation at Binetti transported viewers to the lap of luxury in the Middle East, whether that be the wonders of Ancient Egypt, or the modern extravagance of the UAB (I'm thinking Abu Dhabi, in particular). Jill Stuart continued the overriding 70s trends (that we are surely becoming very accustomed to by now), but added some shine to her collection with metallic colours on various pieces. Biggest thing for me here was the literal take on "animal print". Top points for thinking outside the box. Meanwhile, menswear was the inspiration at United Bamboo, with outerwear being particularly strong from Miho Aoki and Thuy Pham. Despite the strong masculine influence on the collection though, the designers kept it feminine by being creative with cuts and draping.


When Karlie Kloss stepped out to open the Prabal Gurung show, I thought to myself "Well hello raw sex appeal, how kind of you to return. I've surprisingly missed you." But in all honesty. Where has all the sexiness gone? I'm being terribly hypocritical right now being more one for understated sexy than the knock-you-out-with-my-double-Ds, make-you-swoon-over-the-generous-amount-of-junk-in-my-trunk type of sexy. But if there's one thing I can say, it's more difficult to appreciate one without the other. So Karlie Kloss comes swaying down the runway with her hair all a muss, and her dress looking very Catherine Zeta-Jones circa Zorro, and I'm feeling like fashion week finally got a dose of precisely what it's been missing. Sure, I've lost track of how many times I've said "70s glamour," but nothing thus far has been so blatantly harlequin romance novel as this. I'm pleased to say that the Gurung included several other of these shoulder-baring, cleavage-revealing looks, even if they were distinctly outnumbered by more modest ones. It was about time we brought sexy back. 

At Philosophy, Alberta Ferretti elected to dispense with the EXPLOSION OF COLOUR that was her Spring 2011 collection in favour of a calmer palette of pastels. All I could think was that she felt the retinas exposed to the seizure-inducing hues of last season needed a refractory period. 

Elsewhere, ADAM overcame the inconvenient arson of the knit elements of his collection a few weeks ago to unveil his designs on Fall (knitwear included, courtesy of some last minute favours from fairy godmothers). Lippes drew inspiration from the aboriginal peoples of North America this season, which provided an interesting cohesion with his usual aesthetic.

Mandy Coon drew the focus away from her crazed creativity and directed it instead at her talent and appreciation of line. Vivianne Tam went back to her roots and worked things from the angle of the Chinese opera, while Kaelen looked instead to the west - the one that's wild, that is - for inspiration. Presenting at the Pace Gallery, Kimberly Ovitz continued to grow into her own, providing several sweater-dressing options, and reminded us of just how well she drapes fabrics. Hexa by Kuho had a clever little trick to start off, and proceeded with a collection that was significantly less structured than in the label's last two seasons (indeed, one might describe Fall 2011 as nigh structureless). I admit to being a little disappointed with the result after being quite enamoured with Fall 2010 and Spring 2011. Better luck next season, I suppose?

I was not to remain in this state for long though, because Alexander Wang was set to show next. And as seems to be his habit, the coolest kid in New York came up with the goods. I say habit, but I suppose that if we take into consideration his last two collections, they were not received too favourably in all circles. But I reckon the appeal of Fall 2011 cannot be denied. Setting out with the intent of taking the mickey out of indulgence, Wang's collection consisted of all those vices we allow ourselves in the world of fashion, but interpreted in such a way that forced the thought "This is ridiculous." The important thing though? That thought is followed by "... but totally awesome." 

I mean, a boyfriend blazer fashioned of fur? Sounds fucked up, but it actually works. No doubt, we'll see Frida Gustavsson trekking about with it next fashion week, Jac Jagaciak and a Chloe bag on either arm. The potentially overlong silky tendrils trailing from those two and others are probably going to be hazardous for anyone on an escalator (or just walking, in general), but you know they're going to look mythic as they catch in the breeze of passing cars. Capes and ponchos were rendered rockified in black leather, and that coveted Chanel quilting was also added as an after thought.

The point is that Alexander Wang took the shit we want, turned it into something uncool, and then revamped it into something we can't wait to get our dainty, opal and diamond-clad talons on come autumn. The technical term for that is reinvention, if I'm not mistaken. But feel free to use your own descriptors for this. Totes brill? Yeah, I thought so.  

Charlotte Ronson continued with her 90s theme from last season, but kept things cozy with cardis and oversized jumpers. She's also the first person to use olive green with the military look this season. What else was she first for? Booking my bff Irina Lazareanu for a Fall 2011 show. Well, in womenswear, anyway. Glad to see that lady back on runways, I've missed her quirks. Not to mention, the Penguin Situation is likely spiralling out of control with no news stations asking those three all-important questions.

At Band of Outsiders, Scott Sternberg brought us contrasting aesthetics of his Boy and Girl collections, with the former being along the lines of preppy-meets-camper and the latter being (predictably) more feminine. Jane Ibrahim at Maisonette 1977 brought an urban rocker sensibility to the fold, but what was most fascinating about her collection wear the shoes... Anyone know how comfy those beauteous things are? Erin Fetherston proved that it is folly to judge fashion by it's price tag, transitioning from her high priced original line to a more affordable (but not less chic) option. Harem pants sort of swung out of fashion when people realized the only person who could really pull them off was Sienna Miller, but that didn't stop Pierre Morisset from bringing them back in leather and denim at G-Star.  

Parkas and combat boots-turned-heels were popular at Altuzarra this season, as the designer sought to meld feminine with utilitarian ideals. And let's be honest, parkas and combat boots are most useful in autumn and winter. The stilettos and silky gowns? Not so much, but we've got to fit the fair lady in there somewhere. It was really the outerwear that held the collection together, and you got the sense that the models were on their way to various events (e.g., the office, school, the Arctic Academy Awards) and had thrown their biggest, coziest coat over whatever they were wearing while they were in transit. Our Oscar nominees were worried that they wouldn't have the time to change out of their boots before hitting the red carpet, so they decided to go with their fluffy bejeweled heels instead. The point, I suppose, was that in winter, there is nothing for it: sometimes, it's just too cold to wear the sleekest wool coat (though, some of these were included as well). Sometimes, you just need to sacrifice that silhouette for a puffier one. Suck it up and take the parka, you'll at least be saved from threats of the hypothermic variety. It's almost as though the parka was assumed to be uncool, but useful. In Altuzarra's capable hands though, the parka is a wonder to behold. In particular, I've got my eyes fixed on the white ones given a walk by Caroline and Kasia. L O L O L O V E. 

Daryl Kerrigan made her much anticipated return to the runway with a collection sure to impress fans and critics alike. The Irish designer took inspiration from the forest, which appeared in the colouration of her pieces, most literally in the tree-print that pervaded a number of covetable items, particularly the cape in her opening look. But before you complain about looking like a little woodland faerie (Though, on second thought, wouldn't we all love to join Sasha, Vlada, and Gemma in that exclusive category?) note that there's a city street look to the collection, with the inclusion of leather and suede leggings in black and tan, respectively. It was another instance of those designers who is a master in the field of street styling, though with a more natural pallet than those chosen by Minkoff and Zoe. Really loving the cropped shearling vest and the Rick Owens-esque draped leather jacket in olive. Welcome back to a label that has been missed!

In the final show of the day at Toni Francesc, the inspiration of nature took a mythical turn, with the designer specifically envisioning the life of a phoenix from death in ashes to resurrection. This was especially to be noted in the story told by the colours, which progressed from stony browns and grays to orange and gold. 

Peace, love, and floating,

Gill Ford

Photos courtesy of style.com,