A Poetic Steampunk Hand Made Dress

Sometimes it's just one poetic dress that matters. This one, one of many Jenny Eve lives with sold under the name of Madame Chic de France, link here.

Her description ...


"Black rayon/viscose fabric
The applique in front the dress is like a half dress . I made it with a cream linen fabric and beads applique ( silver and white colours ) , tulle hand dyed with tea and pleated + black ruffles in black rayon/viscose 
Vintage finest lace ribbon from Belgium, dating early 1900s , hand dyed with tea , to adjust the black dress on the back.
The long sleeves are in black rayon , the padding shoulders with linen fabric and tulle , like the front part of the dress .
They are fixed with black metal snap closures . You can wear the dress without sleeves .
In pictures n°4 sleeves " work in progress "  One of a kind.

To work with beautiful materials , to sew by hand in Europe , to create one of a kind garments, it costs money and time .
I cannot make garment for 50 USD .....

Many garments which I create are conceived to adjust themselves to the sizes S , M and sometimes L
They adjust themselves with pleats, darts , straps .
Design , creation and realization are made with this idea of free size for a garment piece unique .

All my fabrics are washed before using them, and when garments are finished, they are hand washed."

The accessories ... exquisite.

Dancing Not Fashion, Perhaps A Myth Or A Fairy Tale

Sometimes it's not about fashion, it's about dancing. Or fishing. Always music. Archetypes, fairy tales and myths that touch our collective unconscious before morphing, but have mattered. Reaching through the language of myth, afternoons curled up with a set of Joseph Campbell books and videos and a bit of time. 

We dress methodically, hunting for what we need and want, and some things we love. Sighing over the perfect Manolo Blahnik black faille shoe, the one with a rhinestone buckle, or a vintage evening bag that we changed from vintage then to somehow now by replacing a single chain with silk ribbons. There were clothes that our teachers and parents rolled their eyes at and that made the wearing better, I think. 

Greedy to see the pictures of Dorothy's glittering slippers, Audrey Hepburn's LBD from Breakfast at Tiffany, everything Elizabeth Taylor at Christie's auction. The wild innocence of a flapper with bobbed hair even as you knew she was naughty at a speakeasy, the harsh slash of lipstick and darken brows and shoulder pads that borrowed from Joan Crawford's imperious movie star image in the forties, the modern stay-at-home (ha!!) wife and mother of the fifties whose cinched waist and pastel house dresses were as cute as her daughter's poodle skirts and sweater sets. Hippies and elegance in the sixties, mini skirts and sheaths and little hats that segued to Halston's jerseys and caftans, false eyelashes and party nights while the pret-a-porter exploded in Paris, YSL and Le Smoking. Boys too ... spats to cowboy boots and Elvis.

"Polka Dots Are A Way To Infinity" Yayoi Kusama

Yayoi Kusama. Avant-garde artist, fashion designer, writer, woman and now beginning a collaboration with Marc Jacobs that will be in shop in July '12. Clothing, accessories, bags ... art and commerce as Marc did with Stephen Sprouse, Murakami, Richard Prince. 

Yayoi Kusama is not a young woman although her eagerness and condensed excitement and compulsion cannot be suppressed. Once as important as Andy Warhol, perhaps more so, she was forgotten by the art world when confined to a mental institution in '75 in Japan. A beautiful woman with lovers left behind .. perhaps Joseph Cornell and Donald Judd. Art that sometimes originates in her hallucinations. She stays near the institution even as her work is found again, shown in major retrospectives at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, Walker Art Institute in Milwaukee, Tate Modern in London and the Whitney in New York. 

Her beautiful world. Her website is linked here. Infinity Net: The Autobiography of Yayoi Kusama is linked here.

"A polka-dot has the form of the sun, which is a symbol of the energy of the whole world and our living life, and also the form of the moon, which is calm. Round, soft, colourful, senseless and unknowing.

 Polka-dots can't stay alone; like the communicative life of people, two or three polka-dots become movement.

Polka-dots are a way to infinity.

It was not so simple, not so easy to come up with this way of living that I've had. I was given a sad life by fate, but I think I won a happy life. 

 Not one day has passed when I didn't think of suicide, but I'm very glad to be alive now. 

Most people are so preoccupied with their illness, sickness, and they live a very ordinary life. 

I was so involved and so engrossed with painting, and knew from my childhood that it could help me to overcome unhappiness.

If it were not for art, I would have killed myself a long time ago."  

The 'Extravagants' Of The Market: A Diana Vreeland Memo

Memo from Diana Vreeland

February 24, 1969

I think that the most completely constructive thing that Vogue can do for its readers is when we show a group of inexpensive clothes for summer — we do a group of really cheap dresses.... for example — JUNE if we can do 10 pages of dresses for under $30.00.
You say it is not possible to dress for under $30.00.......

To put it frankly, everybody wears them — it is just that we don't show it.

Whose market will have these clothes? I am speaking of Banlon houses like Nestroy, etc. I cannot believe that by interesting a certain group of the market — perhaps they are Kezia's houses — please — check — that people would be interested in doing something for us as this special price.

With health, a good figure and brown skin in the summer, people should spend very little money on their clothes.

Could these people investigate at once.... I understand that we are now through with the selection of the extravagants of the market... until we start going into autumn. By through, I mean we are through looking at them though certainly we will put some of the beautiful organzas in, etc....

Nylon, dacron, synthetics, hersey....

I would like to have an answer from each and every one of you as to where these things could be found, and what you are going to do about them....

In the case of Babs and Baron de Gunzburg — they will certainly say "this is not my market". The point is that it is your Fashion Department and you should make suggestions to the girls....

Mrs. Mellon can make suggestions from her shirt collection — the shirts done in cotton this summer.

Visionaire 37: Vreeland Memos [Box Set] [Hardcover]

Available at Amazon.com link here

The mysterious package  of over 400 memos dashed off by Ms. Vreeland to her secretary as she made up for the day, sent anonymously to Visionaire, became the red boxed set of 160 memos of Visionaire 37 in 2002. And made me fall in love with her all over again. Frivolous, imperious, whimsical and extraordinarily pragmatic ... her delicious why don't you's and joyful understanding that perhaps even a color could define a season and all the grand collections. 

Why not a summer dress, a cotton shirt, the "nylon, dacron, synthetics, hersey" ... (I think hersey referred to a particular textile manufacturer, not the name of a new fabric). 

Forever David Bowie

David Bowie's 65th birthday, Elvis Presley's 77th birthday and while it's not Mick Jagger's birthday, he is a hardy 68 years old.

Forever young ... but actually getting older. Azzedine Alaia, Rae Kawakubo, Karl Lagerfeld, Giorgio Armani, Ralph Lauren ... aging. 

Hogan McLaughlin .. twenty-two. Brilliant and coming up. His website here. 

Cloudy Moody Skewed Beauty

Slightly ominous, cloudy dark beach days skew the light and the images are removed from anything banal. A plastic camera leaking light, a Holga or a Diana, with oversized square images shattering the edges.

Lagerfeld shocking the light meter with his white hair and darkness, contrast muted.

Unlikely and suitable for threatening plain white walls.

Lovely Aesthetic Ghosts

"... everyone needs aesthetic ghosts in order to live. " YSL

Ropes of pearls, little black dresses, white gloves, ruby red lips, Shalimar perfume, khaki and plain white T's, corsets, ballet flats, languid silk flowers, charm bracelets, Levis 501's fragile from so many washes, crisp white blouses, pencil skirts, black faille mules, armloads of bracelets, over-the-knee boots, smoky smudged eyes, a Kawakubo intricate skirt, a Rick Owens cardigan, crocheted shawls, black bad-ass skintight jeans ... the images don't change.  Always the things I bring home to fondly place next to others very like them.

My mother asked for extra butter on her popcorn and we always sat in the last row at the movies. I have to remember to ask others where they want to sit having come to understand that not everyone likes extra butter or the last row. When she was very weak and drifting away, those last days of hers, I showed her pictures of glamorous women in opulent evening dresses. She thought they were too revealing and she frowned. I sat on the carpeted floor of a store dressing room when I was small listening to her stage-whisper to another woman that she shouldn't chew gum in public. I looked away, not knowing that decades later I'd notice a woman chewing gum in the car next to me and those memories would rush back.

Life wasn't grand, not when you're wearing a navy school uniform with a (terrible) white blouse with an anemic Peter Pan collar and aren't allowed to roll your white socks down below your ankle and your saddle shoes are scuffed. I followed my mother through the basement at Ohrbach's where the copies from the Haute Couture hung and wondered whether she'd scowl at loose buttonhole threads or worse. It pleased and surprised me that salesladies were more eager to please my mother, bringing armloads of dresses for her consideration, than some of the other women shopping. She thanked them graciously, telling them she would think about a dress or two. 

It's a sunny day and perfect to see a movie, wander into a shop. I could use a white T, maybe black jeans, All Saints skinny black jeans that is.

Popovers ... Really

Neiman Marcus popovers are served hot from the oven, risen maybe 4" and accompanied by the most decadent amount of butter whipped with fresh strawberry preserves. Sumptuous, decadent and so satisfying, gorgeous airy things. Memories of your mother's delicate department store tea room, the kind that had lovely fashion shows at lunch, flood in. Small discreet pleasures of food and memories.

Sometimes when it's cold or the world seems too large and chaotic, I read recipes and old cookbooks. Chasen's Hobo Steak, the Bistro's Chocolate Souffle, an early Martha Stewart cookbook with cranberry pie and another with a yam soufflé.

Oops. A period of ignoring my blog, again. Big mistake, because sending bits of fashion (and just this week) a bit of the more romantic, some long-gone great dishes is almost as satisfying as chocolate pudding or just roasted French coffee, smoky and deep.

Ingredients

3 1/2 Cups of Whole Milk

4 Cups of All-Purpose Flour

1 1/2 Tsp Salt

1 Tsp Baking Powder

6 Large Eggs, at room temperature

Place milk in bowl and microwave on high for two minutes or until warm to the touch (yes, of course you can gently do this in a saucepan but it leaves a scummy film that I hate cleaning)

Sift flour, salt and baking powder in a large mixing bowl

Crack eggs in another large bowl with an electric mixer  and whisk on medium for about three foamy frothy minutes (or whisk forever by hand, satisfying in a peculiar way but your arm must ache terribly before it's done). Turn down mixer speed to low and add warm milk

Gradually add flour mixture and beat for two minutes. Let batter rest at room temperature for about 1 hour

Preheat oven to 450 degrees

Spray popover pan generously with nonstick spray (yuck, really .. you can wipe with a nice light oil with a towel, what are nonstick sprays made of ???). Fill popover pans almost to the top with batter and place popover pan on cookie sheet. Transfer to oven and bake for 15 minutes before turning oven down to 375 and bake for 30 to 35 minutes more, until popovers are deep golden brown.

Remove from oven and pop out popovers on a cooling rack.

Serve with Strawberry Butter, yum.

To make the strawberry butter, place 1 1/2 cups of butter at room temperature in a bowl and beat in 1 cup of strawberry preserves. That's it.


Drag out gorgeous crisp white napkins and admire.

What to wear? Jammies are nice. Anything will do. There are thankfully no fashion rules here.

The Exoticism of Rifat Ozbek

“Four or five years ago, if you were lucky enough to meet Robert Forrest, the marketing director for Rifat Ozbek, he would give you a ticket to see the fashions of the Turkish-born designer. The small showings were held in a loft in the unlikely-sounding Haunch of Venison Yard, an alley between Claridge's and Bond Street. Buyers and reporters would ascend four flights of stairs and enter a Turkish fantasy, where tea and fruit were served while models paraded Mr. Ozbek's exotic styles.

Now Mr. Ozbek has been in business for five years, and his shows have become the hot ticket in British fashion and one of the more compelling reasons for the fashion faithful to come to London at all.

He still operates out of Haunch of Venison Yard, but as a measure of his success this season Mr. Ozbek held two heavily attended fashion shows in a West London television studio.

The intensity of the debate over his fall collection - split down the middle between lovers and haters - is another index of his importance.

Mr. Ozbek has had to grapple with many of the problems that confront young American designers, as well as some that are peculiar to London. ''When our volume increased, we couldn't get the right commitments from our English contractors,'' Mr. Forrest said. ''They pushed the collection through in half the time, and it just wasn't made as well. It's part of the fashion malaise in English factories.''

The designer clothes are now produced under a licensing arrangement with Aeffe, an Italian manufacturer that also produces the Franco Moschino line. Mr. Ozbek's company, a partnership between him and Gulf International, expects to have about $4 million in sales this year of his designer clothes and his casual line, called O and made in Turkey.

Unlike other London designers, however, Mr. Ozbek is selling more and more to the United States, Mr. Forrest said. His largest accounts are Saks Fifth Avenue and Madeleine Galley, a Los Angeles store.”

Source link here.

Rifat was British Designer of the Year in '88 and '92 with exotic gorgeous clothes that sometimes sold straight out of the shipping box. Rifat worked with rich colors and textures, embroidery and decoration, slashes of silver buttons or leopard against rich colors. Very rich bohemian clothes.

Campbell Soup Company: Lessons About Copyright And Art

That was then ... it's very hard to understand fashion designers policy regarding copyrighted material being loosely woven into a work of art. Louis Vuitton sued, twice, a Danish art student, Nadia Plesner, for using an image (not even an LV) to raise money for Darfur orphans. A stylistic take-off on the ubiquitous image of Paris Hilton holding a designer bag in one hand while cuddling a tiny yipping dog in the other.

Curiously Louis Vuitton itself was sued for fraud for selling Murakami framed works of art which were discovered to simply be the material used for  its bags during the collision of art and commerce at the Murakami exhibit at MOCA in Los Angeles.

Louis Vuitton is supporting young artists again through its Louis Vuitton Young Arts Project.

Lessons that should have been learned from Campbell Soup.

In Which Chanel Diversifies: Holland & Holland

Chanel. Designer guns? Well actually yes. Chanel purchased the world's finest, most expensive gun house in 1996. The kind of rifles and shotguns that can and do come in at over 100,000.00. Sport guns, not evil hand guns. Collectors who (hopefully) will display these beauties (sans bullets) that are incredibly collectible, as are Samurai swords which one sincerely hopes are not played with but safely hung on a certain kind of wall. The company was founded by Harry Holland back in 1835. 

Not to fret. Holland & Holland is very much about fine gentlemen's and ladies fashion, classical, very English upper class and totally cool. Ready to wear jackets around 1600.00 and bespoke mens suits from 3000.00. Exciting to know that the foray into Chinese manufacturing (why does this happen???) failed and tailoring has returned to Great Britain, where it completely belongs. An example that Levi Strauss could emulate and should because national treasures are inspirational and we all need a good shot of pride.

Holland & Holland from Holland & Holland on Vimeo.

the Haute Couture Silk Flowers & Feathers Of Legeron

Long ago, in the era prior to WWII, there were as many small houses in Paris serving the Haute Couture as there were crafts. There could have been several hundred small ateliers crafting hand-made flowers and feather confections and now there is Legeron, a house created in 1880. Legeron continues in the same painfully tedious, exquisitely fine manner as at its beginnings. The slow process of pinning fabric gently to a wooden frame before its bath into gum, starch or flours, the fabric is then placed on a cushion before being punched and formed on implements that may be over 100 years old, the petals then cut by hand and bathed in aniline dyes and alcohol at 90 degrees; when the alcohol has evaporated, shades of dye are placed on the edges. The petals are left to dry on a rack overnight, a process that is slow and produces the colors of fantasy and nature in a world of time equals money. 

The "tiny hands" then soften the petals on a damp blotter, ancient tools to crimp and create twirls and ruffles are used along with heat and sometimes wax to hold the delicate fine shapes. Each petal is glued to a brass base one by one, the emergent flower is then again allowed to dry for several more hours and only then is the brass stem covered in silk and the flower is complete. Heirloom flowers carefully produced one by one that cost the earth but last forever. The amazing craft remains for now.

Legeron Paris link here. 

Searching For Photographs Is Better When You're Quite Organized ..

Artifacts ... the hubris of jpegs in iPhoto not categorized, lost amongst doubles and triples. The Antonio Lopez illustrations were stolen, the Missoni pillows Rosita sent one long ago Christmas washed too many times. The odd lamp was from Janet Charlton's Sunset Boulevard shop, a retailer before she became the Hollywood gossip source. Raymond Enkeboll hand-carved Mexican furniture and books, walls of books.

A lot more austere now. But clustered in my computer are 40,000 photos, my antique pie safe from Wolf's in New York stuffed with boxes of photos and albums half begun. If I could do over a whole lot of years of photos, there could have been a better way. For now, there's just the odd exhilaration of a sudden memory poking through. Still haven't come across many of my Sunset Plaza shop but happy for these.

Manolo Blahnik shoes, Eric Javets hats, Erickson Beamon jewels and the very orange jacket in the last photo is a Rifat Ozbek bolero.

The Art Of Hogan McLaughlin

Hogan McLaughlin ... Large scale and sometimes not, finely detailed ink drawings. Very large scale, very fine. Extraordinary work.

1. Dead Queen (8 feet by 6 feet)

2. Insomniac Olympics (5 feet by 3 feet)

3. A Song Of Ice And Fire 

4. Future Dream Part II (8.5" x 11")

5. Future Dream Part I (8.5" x 11")

6. Blood Drawing (3.5" x 5")

7. For Taryn (3.5" x 5")

Hogan McLaughlin Tumblr link

Hogan McLaughlin Website link

“Within the first 15 minutes, I knew he had a gift. He is a voice that has to be heard. His drawings and illustrations are extraordinary in their execution and detail and through those drawings, they needed to be brought to life. He has the innate artistic gift that is like finding a rare flower blossoming in the wasteland. I believe in him and what he is doing.”

-Daphne Guinness



Born in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois, Hogan McLaughlin began drawing and dancing at age two. He continued training as a dancer throughout his childhood before joining the contemporary ballet company, Hubbard Street Dance Chicago, at age 16. There he had the opportunity to tour internationally and work with some of the world’s top artists and choreographers. Upon leaving the company in 2009, Mr. McLaughlin moved to New York to pursue a career in visual art working in large-scale ink pieces, some reaching nine feet tall. In 2011, he met artist Daphne Guinness on Twitter who was taken by his Goreyesque illustrated book, The Homicidal Heiress. Shortly after, he was given the opportunity to produce fashion pieces based on his illustrations. Aided by stylist GK Reid, two of his drawings were brought to life for a film and photo shoot with Markus Klinko and Indrani, featuring Ms. Guinness. The pieces were later featured in the windows of Barneys New York as a part of Ms. Guinness’ personal installation, and from there, were installed in The Museum at F.I.T.’s Daphne Guinness exhibition. In September of 2011, he released his first 11-piece fashion collection and had the pleasure of dressing Ms. Guinness for F.I.T.’s opening event. He currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, and is working to establish and expand his label, Hogan McLaughlin.

Where Have All Their Names Gone? And Could They PLEASE Have Them Back?

Seriously, I don't remember, maybe I never knew, what happened at Romeo Gigli. One season my former husband and I were happily buying a collection that was just so good, the Milan showroom  bustling and happy and the clothes will sell out in the store. It's all magic, he's just so good and then ... rumors and cancellations, tension and tut-tut's. The label is no longer his and that business, that really incredibly wonderful business, is over.

Jil Sander is elegant, blond and the dark romanticism of her aesthetic was always minimal. The extraneous looked like frou-frou and the pure sensuality of fine fabrics mattered. Certain stores like Linda Dresner on Madison Avenue, Maxfield, Savannah in Santa Monica, Bagutta in Sohu ... had waiting lists because it was so good. Something happened, a chance encounter with Miuccia's rotund husband and first she was in, then she was out, then she was ever so briefly in and then it was very much over.

Roland Mouret had The Dress, the skinny tight magically constructed dress that sold for more on eBay than even in shops. It was essential, a mood that suited Victoria Beckham who understands it better than anyone. The name was gone, some European shoes or maybe dresses for the European Gap's and somehow, I do believe, he was able to find backers to buy back his name. His very name ...

Whatever happened to the intensely masterful Herve Leger should be a fashion school lesson, a movie and new laws to protect creators from predatory entanglements. Just shaking my head, literally, imagining the fate of YSL if Pierre Berge had not been by his side, protecting his brand. Years and years, a couple of decades have gone by and the genius, the expensive and seductive dresses of the real Herve (yes, my former husband sold those very expensive confections like very fine wine; on the essential movie star, it was goddess dressing) was lost to Max Azria, who owns the name and produces, umm, dresses with Herve's labels. Tight dresses but wholly capricious and no longer suitable except for lesser starlets who appreciate a nice frock and have no idea what was lost. Mr. Azria has done well, indeed. The real Herve Leger? The most classically fine, sensual dresses both for his Haute Couture and ready to wear .. under a different name, which is something that the Courts of the world would not permit for any other artist class. Herve Leroux and they are for goddesses. Imagine ..

John Galliano offended Mr. Arnault by not immediately taking two advil and calling to profusely apologize. Or so it is said. In this day and age where many of us have watched helplessly and with great anger a loved one lose their battle with addiction and descend into degradation and defeat, Mr. Arnault could have stood by his friend, his great designer. He did not. Oh. Mr. Arnault owns a substantial 70% or so of the John Galliano name. Carrying on without John, when he has alleged that John had offended him. I cannot begin to understand it.

The list is far longer and I am sure that at some point in many creator's lives they would sign anything and say thank you for an investment to keep on going. The practice of devouring a designer's name beyond a reasonable amount of time, seven years might be a number to consider as it is frequently used in non-compete clauses, is reprehensible. In London, when a good piece of art goes to auction, there may be a portion sent to the estate of the artist. It seems it is only in fashion that this level of abuse exists.

My own skirmish during a War of The Roses divorce over my name has made me very militant about this. Conceding Giorgio St Angelo to end the legal battle was silly. I wish I hadn't. I loved Giorgio and his clothes. It's hard to do legal battle when all you really want to do is buy and sell pretty dresses.

The battles over copyright protection continue, the battles over counterfeit designer goods continue and there is no battle that I know of to deprive shark investors of the use of a designer's name after some amount of time.

Alas.

Dear Levi Strauss, Time To Come Home To America

Alas. On May 9, 2002, Levi Strauss moved all production to China which sort of ends its American dream. Vintage Levis labelled Made In America come with premium prices, available at very expensive boutiques such as Fred Segal in Los Angeles. That particular American dream, that proud American history subverted and gone, the implosion of American jobs and a nice label gone bad.

Levi's is all Chinese made. Ralph Lauren, Gap, Guess, some J. Crew, so many bits and pieces of "American" clothing is not made here. Not an American issue alone, no. Prada revealed during its IPO process that about 20% of its production is Made In China. Armani has some production in China, which is confusing the luxury customer in China who of course wants the rich Made In Italy label.

At my Uncle Leo's funeral, somehow his widow Doris revealed that she shops at Walmart for everything from cosmetics to clothes. A cousin pointed out gently that there are Made In America skin care formulations that cost less and Doris rejected that out of hand. Which surprised, confused and upset me. Dov Charnin has gotten press for his good ideas, livable wages for products made in Los Angeles, and bad press for things that have nothing to do with a great concept. Near China Town in Los Angeles, at a large sort of mall with stalls not stores, you can find white T's five for 10.00 (along with cheap, I mean low down quality and price, everything else. Dov's American Apparel T's are not the cheapest but they are terribly cute and not at all unaffordable. (Yes, I do think that the new management at American Apparel is working hard and smart to fix image issues and the clothes throughout are college cute and easy to wear. Yay for Los Angeles, really that's what I think.)

I wonder how much is perception - cheap crap is better than searching for American made (Italian for shoes because American shoes were killed and oh yes, they were as good - YSL shoes made by Schwartz & Benjamin in the '70's were maybe better than Italian fine shoe construction) that is good, maybe better.

It's sort of like buying apples and salad things at a Farmer's Market; fresher, cheaper, probably organic, win-win. A good habit but oh so much easier to park at a commercial market and troll for more expensive, not quite as farm fresh and probably not all organic.

Booth Moore, the fashion critic at the Los Angeles Times, recently questioned this. We do have Frye, Pendleton, Stetson ... and more. We have more than that and oh yes it can be Made in America. A friend of mine, Daniel Storto, refused to let an entire town die that once upon America thrived as a glove manufacturing center. He bought Gloverston and that is where his gloves are made that every designer in Europe and New York begs for. As it should be. 

Dear Levis, think it over, it is never too late to come home and do it better. And those American 501's were better than gold in Paris and still are.

Wondering About The Impossibly Elegant Long Legs

a Salvador Dali image

Man Ray, Ingres' Violin

There was a moment that I flirted with having a tattoo, maybe a flower anklet that would peek past the bottom of black leggings. I couldn't decide on a color or which flower and eventually the urge went away.   

Jackson wanted a tattoo when he was fifteen and that was ok. I understood the impulse and we agreed that he could have it in two years. The same tattoo he wanted, not another one. He had more growing to do and perhaps his aesthetic would change. Two years seemed reasonable and when he was seventeen he made the appointment with Jun Cha. Not an impulse and not wandering in to any shop and hoping. He had to wait another four months for Jun; sometimes the waiting is longer. People fly in from the rest of the world for Jun. 

It took nine hours for the first appointment. Jackson winced a few times, took a few breaks to stretch and late that night it was done. Exquisite and fine, something very personal that had meaning for him. Six months later Jun completed it in six hours. A lot of hours to peacefully accept the staccato needling. But to no avail when it came time for a flu shot. The usual horrified, "no, no shot, go away, I won't get the flu." Ah, shots are different.

The Man Ray image came first. I tore it out of something and tucked it under my checkbook cover where I could unfold it and imagine it was me. I never did it. The photograph is breathtaking but in truth I've never even held a violin. It has no magic for me. I wanted the photograph, not the tattoo.  The image grew fainter over time and I seldom looked at it. Last month I threw it out. 

Yesterday I found the Dali elephant; the impossibly elegant long horses legs attached and now it's printed, folded carefully and I think about it. And wonder what it would be like.

It Was A Very Good Year, It Really Was

These amazing images are from Franca Sozzana's first Italian Vogue in 1988. I loved the clothes that year. It was sublime and madly beautiful, intrinsically valued. Dolce & Gabbana's Sicilian Merry Widow, the classic but slightly off white shirts and black pants ... so gorgeous and simply not possible to stick in a box marked Back Then.

It was a very good year. 

So strange to look at magazines from Back Then and know precisely how dated it is. Something gives it away: the hair, the makeup, the clothes. Not so much with these.

Happy Anniversary, Franca. Brava.

You can link here for access to Italian Vogue's 1965 issue, its first, and Franca's first issue in 1988.

Charley Gallay At Bleicher Project Space

Bleicher Project Space presents for the month of October:

Foto! Ray-Gun! Mambo!

Photographic works by Charley Gallay

October 2nd – 31st

Opening Reception: October 15th, 2011 5pm

Bleicher Project Space
Bleicher Gallery 355 North La Brea Ave Los Angeles CA 90036

Curated by Shannon Rowland

Foto! Ray-Gun! Mambo! features a selection of Los Angeles photographer Charley Gallay’s recent lurid, cinematic portraiture. Occupying the unsettled border between then and now, the photographs in Foto! Ray-Gun! Mambo! evoke both a technicolor exuberance and the transistor twang of lonesome America.

Charley Gallay shoots for an unnamed photo agency and, as such, his images have appeared in numerous publications, including the NYTimes, Elle and Vanity Fair. Moreover, at one time Hallmark™ produced a greeting card based on a photograph of Willie Nelson that he took on-stage while Willie was playing “Whiskey River” at dusk, in the desert, in front of fifty-thousand people. True story. It was beautiful.

Charley Gallay. Yes.