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Thursday, January 22, 2009

Sao Paulo Fashion Week: Day 5

By Pia Catton...

Raquel Zimmermann worked the space-age suits at Animale last night. Her fierce look and take-no-prisoners walk was just right for the go-go Star Trek collection. Though the palette was nude and subtle, there was nothing vulnerable in the Sydney Opera House-like shoulders.


Another Raquel—Davidowicz, she of the ultra-chic house party I mentioned yesterday—delivered her collection for Uma. It was one of the few that made me think: I want that dress—in this case a sheath with a deep-blue sculpted skirt.

Between that dress and my newly Brazilified hair, I could pass for a local. My black-brown tresses are now a soft honey-brown with sunkissed touches of blonde. It took only four hours, three processes and two weeks of hair envy, but Luciano at L'Officiel III gave me exactly what I wanted. Obrigado, Luciano!

Though I haven't had much time to dig into Sao Paulo's cultural offerings, I was able to hit a show of previously unpublished Rankin photographs, presented by the glossy shopping mall Iguatemi. The portraits included Heidi Klum giving the finger and wearing leather jeans, Kate Moss in boots (and maybe a hat, but nothing else) and Gisele on all fours covered in a digitally manipulated substance made to look like diamonds. The bulk of the show was devoted to rock stars, but the best was an extreme close-up of Mary-Kate and Ashley, somehow made to look like beautiful, mythical creatures.

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Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Sao Paulo Fashion Week: Day 4

By Pia Catton...

When our car pulled up outside the home of Brazilian designer Raquel Davidowicz, the place looked and sounded like a night club on a tight cul-de-sac. A burly security guard stood in front of an opening in a flat cement wall that led to a secret garden of chic. The modernist house was surrounded by 15-foot palm trees and lush greenery—so glamorous that only a Sao Paulo fashion designer could handle it. The party, thrown for the international fashion press and attended by assorted industry types, had the kind of relaxed fancy that Hamptons hostesses dream about and New Yorkers are too neurotic to deliver on.

As the designer of the brand Uma, Raquel has her show on Thursday (watch this space), but was somehow together enough to warmly greet her 200 plus guests. Some of them milled around the pool, which glowed green under a spotlight above the roof. Many crowded around the bar, where one's champagne addiction could be sorely tested by passion-fruit caipirhinias and where even the schmoozing had a light touch. But talking about fashion seemed too work-y in a setting like this. Raquel said that the house had never been photographed for a shelter magazine, but give that about ten minutes. The bathroom counter, for instance, was loaded with about fifty Jeff Koons-esque rubber duckies in different styles.

Dinner was served in small tin boxes with napkins tied around them. Inside was tasty sauted beef and rice with vegetables, followed by chocolate mousse, truffles and a Romeo & Juliet (a fruit puree and soft cheese). The DJ played heavily from the requisite Hard Candy remixes—and to ward off hangovers, coconut water was in large supply. Despite the light rain (a constant presence in this city) a most divine time was had by all.

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