exhibit T

i took this shot whilst prancing in LA last weekend...my friend tippy in a lounge chair outside the Getty museum, perfectly coordinated as always in that "ah i feel like wearing this today...oh look, and it just works."  yeah, she's one of those. but because she is one of my best friends, i shant be jealous...just simply inspired.

and for the first time, i felt a bit like the sartorialist, noticing the details of a person's style that are worth taking closer inspection. she's got a floral/fauna theme going on here, modernized by the striking black, gold, neutral color mix.

starting with the necklace -a cascade of gold leaves - accenting the floral embroidery on the peach-toned sleeveless blouse, down to the cabochon ring flanked by a filagree gold setting, resting against a black calf leather oversized clutch whose gold ball clasp complements the shape of the ring.  all whilst nonchalantly sitting in a woven garden chair of black and corn.

gotta love it.

coocoo for rococo...et al

i've discovered a love for rococo styling...fancy, swirly, whimsical, ornate...of the early 18th century French interiors, architecture, and music.

the gilded walls and frames, doorknobs, chairs, tapestry in rich colors brought me back to my original artistic aesthetic, and reaffirmed that my beloved color combination of rose, navy, and phthalo jade weren't crazy.  the gold also adds that grandeur and lux to the ornateness of the French decor. oh, and the chandelier, gotta love that.

check out tippy (center) and me, checking ourselves out, in a mirrored exhibit at the Getty museum this past weekend, LA '09. sometimes it takes a breath of fresh air, like a new city, a new activity, a new person, to re-perspective-ize ol' life.

la fievre de la cabine

it's been one of those weekends where i find lots of inspiration whilst breathing in the air of nature.

case in point...my friend's cabin-of-a-house in stony brook, long island, is literally like experiencing a story-kind-of-fairytale of a lifestyle. a one-headlight drive on the dirt driveway alone makes you feel like you've been plopped into a story, or even movie.  if i was a camerawoman at that moment, that's exactly how i would document it.  you sort of get lost in the tunnel-vision of the headlight, so mesmerized that you forget that you're heading towards a destination. 

it's night. we arrive towards the "house," where a campfire's already been flickering away, and a circle of people are sitting, enjoying themselves with beer and food in hand. it's like, "really? this is happening?" small groups are chatting away and the fire is burning. smiles abound. i know this scene isn't anything novel, but compared to the loft-style/greenpoint/nyc/devil-wears-prada lifestyle that i carry on with, this is quite a change of scenery to say the least.  "hey i'm karen, i just arrived after a 3-hour ride on the train that was stopped due to police investigation. but it's finally good to be here. nice to meet ya."  i meet a music therapist and split a raspberry tart with my friend kim. then levy sets up his drums and i go into the "music room" for a mini-jam session with him and some of his ex-bandmates.  there wasn't an amp to the keyboard but was still fun anyway. someone said i was doing "epic" things with the keys....i credit that all to TPF. haha.

the thing is, this is everyday for my friend levy.  campfires, beaching at 3-am, tent-sleeping...cabin fever has become the normal standard.  and yet everyone who lives there is a post-doc candidate...the interior of the house strikes the fancy of the the marine biologist, chef, musician....full of energy, intelligence, partying....Life.

2 jam sessions later (replete with bagpipes), we roast marshmallows, then hit the beach. the Beach is like their backyard, a short one-minute stair-case walk from the house, though could've been a bit treacherous without a flashlight.  stretching along the horizon, the low-tide remains calm for the evening, and someone lights up fireworks. i do my usual "whoooaaaa"...people splash into the water, others sit on the beach, and i'm sitting on the ledge of the "crack house," a small square "room" graffitied up and filled with a single surfboard propped diagonally along the planked floor. it would've been a perfect photoshoot opportunity. the juxtaposition of high-end clothes and beauty against a shitty boarded up crack house. to each their own artistic beauty.  it was such a refreshing view, at 2am.  so graceful and calming to look out onto a few blinking lights on the water, shadows of heads and arms splashing, and the zing of fireworks.  endless horizon along the deepest midnite navy sky.

it's back to the cabin for mini weiner and kielbasa roasting...radiohead provided the backdrop, then turned to MJ. we set up tents in record time...caught a bit of sleep just as the rain started to tap dance on our makeshift roof.

and scene. 

...just got the chills listening to John Mayer's cover of Free Fallin'...from "Where The Light Is, LIve in Lost Angeles." 

we're talkin' about....

leave it to cathy horyn to offer fashion brain-food. here are excerpts from her interview with Louise Wilson, course director of the M.A. program at Central Saint Martins (the "Harvard" of Fashion):

My mantra now is the only thing these students have to offer is youth, and if they can’t offer that, then we’re all in trouble.

 

“It’s not about working hard. It’s about feeling sick and waiting for the idea and not knowing what to do but making sure you have the skills so that when you do get the idea, you can do it without relying on other people.”

 

There are immensely talented people around but I feel huge vortexes of them are sucked into this mediocre world where nobody criticizes and it’s all terribly politically correct.

 

That’s another thing I’ve noticed today—everything is farmed out. Someone else is going to cut it, and someone else is going to supply the fabrics. The hands-on gets more and more removed. If Lee McQueen or Christopher Kane had nothing, they could still make their garments. They have the skills.

from what i gather from Louise's thoughts, it's about returning to the root of what Fashion is all about...youth, dreamery, possibilities, focused through the grounded necessities of skills and craftsmanship. perhaps only then can true design surface.

just a thought.