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Thursday, February 19, 2009

Sick Day

The Citizens Band's Sarah Sophie Flicker...

Most of my Fashion Week plans have been dashed by my consumptive, pneumonic, bubonic plague-like scourge that I can't seem to shake. I was really heartbroken to miss Thakoon. He is so sweet and his clothes make me happy—and anyone who dresses Michelle Obama is a superstar in my book. But I did hobble out to a few things I wouldn't dare miss!

One of those was Rodarte. Not just because I love Kate and Laura so much, but because their shows are truly works of art. I love the fact that those girls are so smart and pull their inspiration from places that, in the abstract, don't always make sense, but then you see the clothes and it all comes together. Their shows are also wonderful because everyone there is actually excited. There is always an air of community and happiness to see what the sisters have come up with—and this time they didn't disappoint! The show was very strong and a little Frankenstein-y, but when you saw the clothes up close, they were so intricate, delicate and painstakingly perfect yet so wearable. I felt transported to another world, like you do at the symphony or opera—when it's over you feel like you've been on a journey to far-off fantastic places.


I was meant to go to a lot of events that night, but my health and a babysitting crisis forced me to get real. The 6-9 pm time slot is no friend to a new mom, so I went over to Kim Hastreiter's place with a few girlfriends after putting my little rascal to bed. The dinner was for Diesel's Renzo Rosso. As always, Kim's apartment was aglow with a super cozy family feeling. Kim is really my art mom. She an important supporter of artists and has the most magical ability to introduce you to exactly who you should know. The place was packed: Mr. Mickey, Threeasfour, Michael Stipe, Thomas Dozol and so many other people I love—and incredible food. Kim always has something for us boring vegetarians, which I appreciate more than she will ever know.

Then we went to the Rodarte after-party. That was a real family affair too. It was at a great bar called The White Slab Palace, which, oddly, serves Aquavit. I'm Danish and don't see that a lot, probably because it tastes horrible, but it still made me happy. The party was a low-key kind of place, with great music, great conversation, a little debauchery—the perfect antidote to the normal uptight, un-fun after-party.

See, you gotta look for the silver lining. In this economic downturn Fashion Week has felt a lot less stuffy and a lot more free-wheeling and community-oriented. Times like this force us to be creative, to look for new ways of doing things and talk about things we don't normally share. This has all left me feeling really inspired and ready to create—by hook or by crook!

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Sunday, December 21, 2008

Lacoste of Fame

Captain Hook isn't the only one with a croc that won't stop ticking. There's plenty of air sur terre for Lacoste, which opened its umpteenth shop last Thursday on rue Vieille du Temple, the main drag of Paris' Marais district, where the boys are in the City of Light. Boys at the jam-packed opening tended to be in the hot young, champagne-loving French actor category, notably Stanislas Merhar, Saïd Taghmaoui and sloe-eyed Andy Gillet, who plays Celadon in 88-year-old French New Wave director Eric Rohmer's latest (and hopefully not his last) opus, The Romance of Astrea and Celadon.

The new store's windows were full of Michael Stipe's photo polo, designed by R.E.M.s frontman to give your near and dear the impression they're performing to a frenzied, sold-out stadium crowd. The shirt, third in Lacoste's Holiday Collector series, after Tom Dixon and Michael Young, is in a "limited" edition of 12,000. And for those who didn't get a chance to hang out in Zaha Hadid's Chanel Mobile Art Pavillion (too late now, it's been grounded), her croc-inspired, ergonomic, undulating foot gloves—er, shoes—for Lacoste will slither into stores in June. That's a bit later than previously announced, but hey, it's art.

—Rebecca Voight

Andy Gillet / Saïd Taghmaoui & Zoe Felix / Stanislas Merhar & friend

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Monday, June 30, 2008

That Was Me on the Corner

A hipster lover's delight spilled out on to the corner of Bowery and Bond Street last Thursday when Gregory Rogan hosted buddy Michael Stipe's first-ever solo art show, Relics, at his new shop. Music, art, film, fiction and fashion worlds coalesced as famous friends—Jake Paltrow, Jeff Koons, Chris Martin, Douglas Coupland—came out to support the R.E.M. frontman. But because of the tropical temperature inside the all-black store, the real party took place in front of the cream-colored cast-iron gem of a building, which was chosen, Rogan told us, "because it's where several neighborhoods meet, so it doesn't fit neatly into one box. Just like me. I am not very good as a fashion designer, I am reluctant to be an artist." He then compared the hood to Istanbul, the only city in the world to sit on two continents. So the man is not only talented, but also modest, well-traveled and poetic. We so want to hang out with him. Oh, he also professed his love for Raf Simons and Martin Margiela, two of our own favorites. Total compatibility. Yet it's different with genius musicians, whose charm doesn't always come as easily. When asked whether there was any nostalgic element to his artwork (once-important but now-obsolete artifacts such as cassette tapes, Polaroid cameras and books cast in bronze), a perfectly polite Stipe was unequivocal: "I despise nostalgia. If you listen to our work you notice I'm much more about sentimentality." Okay, my bad, can we go to Istanbul now?

Gregory Rogan and Michael Stipe

bronzed cassettes

P.S.1 curator Klaus Biesenbach & Terence Koh, Polaroid cameras, Rogan Bouwerie store

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