Essentially this is about what is real and what is something other. It seems like the lines that once delineated fantasy from reality have vanished. More significantly real, live people have begun to distort themselves in ways that are, to me anyways, alarming. I’m going to give an extreme example and then try to work back from that.
Hard to believe these are real people, isn’t it? (In one case, and I’ll let you guess which one, there is some real doubt as to the actual existence of the person represented in the picture.) What I find alarming though is not the degree to which both these images are constructed or even if they’re actual pictures of actual people who actually look like this. Actually.
No, the alarming aspect is these people are now absolutely plausible. Whether they exist at this moment or not is irrelevant– because sooner or later they’ll be our neighbor or even us. Presently they exist as outliers but that won’t last long I don’t think. These body types are becoming more and more prevalent every day. Just look around. Read more
I was an imaginative child, but so was every kid who was born before Lego came in kits. More than that, I was a strange child surrounded by much older siblings and exposed to Devo and Monty Python far too young. Mum could tell you the story of how I was a fussy eater and the only way she could get me to eat spaghetti was on a towel on the floor under a beach umbrella. I don’t know why this appealed to me but perhaps it had to do with the 1977 Hawaiian sunset wall mural in the living room. It only worked for spaghetti apparently, but it’s proof that at an early age, home decor and my imagination were inextricably linked. The seed was planted like so many Chia-pets of the era, but unlike the clay trolls who sprouted hair within days, my seed would lay dormant for decades. Read more
One of the most important aspects of the film and Di’s challenge is our attempt to answer some very complicated and multi-faceted questions. Just for instance– the word style. Now there is a slippery and dangerous word.
This is a series of images created by Clive Branson–a talented and innovative photographer and long time creative partner of Di’s. An arresting mix of Di’s actual X-rays and conventional photographs, it highlight Di’s unique skeletal structure.
In the last two weeks I found myself in the company of two men largely responsible for shaping the way we dress in the last 30 plus years. Well, not literally in their company, but in the realm of their senses so to speak. I will admit I was only academically interested in both JeanPaul Gaultier and Bill Cunningham prior to witnessing their work, figuring at the very least, it would be good for the doc and the blog. I certainly didn’t expect to be as moved as I was seeing as I don’t quite understand why fashion is so fundamentally important to some people. Before this challenge I would buy clothes for many reasons, and I still enjoy dressing well but I find some people’s level of commitment to a certain designer or style bordering on ridiculous. The world is spinning in a perpetual catastrafuck: wars, terrorism, depression, environmental and natural disasters, disease, hunger, racism, religious persecution, and female subjugation kind of makes the debate on the length of this season’s hemlines almost criminal in it’s frivolity. Then I see a film like ‘Bill Cunningham New York’ or designer Jean-Paul Gaultier’s retrospective at Montreal’s Musee des Beaux Arts and I can begin to understand where this kind of unbridled enthusiasm for fashion comes from. Read more
Today I did something I haven’t done since starting this challenge; I bought a fashion magazine, and not just any fashion magazine, a September Issue. I didn’t get the ‘Vogue’ September Issue for several reasons, least of which that it’s cliche, but mainly because of the sexy 10 year-old thing and the fact that I’ve never been a big fan of Vogue anyway. Sure, Creative Director Grace Coddington is a styling genius and creates beautiful photographs of beautiful women in beautiful clothes, but it’s always been just that to me. When I want art I go to a gallery. Today I went with ‘In Style’, for the simple reason that it was the biggest September Issue I could find.
I’ve had a rough couple of days, physically and mentally. A busy weekend with not much sleep and my TMJ and chronic back pain worsened by what I will charitably call an accidental acupuncture ‘misadventure’ means I’ve been dreading coming up with something witty or astute to write about this week. Then I saw the answer in the form of a 2 pound (writer’s estimate) ladies monthly with a shiny Beyonce looking glam-diculous on the cover in a dress festooned with what I can only assume are bedazzled cookie-cutters. “I know,” I thought, “I can read the magazine as a test of my fortitude.” Not a bad idea, Me. It might also serve as a ‘comfort-food’ of sorts as I used to pore over fashion magazines like Details and Mirabella as a teen and rip out the best pictures for a bedroom wall collage. If I fail to be circumspect at least I can turn it into an angry screed that Tim will appreciate even if no on else does. Read more
Chanel joins all children’s pajamas from the Seventies and most fast food restaurant uniforms. Welcome to the club, Chanel!