How better to end a floppy year than with an uplifting Q&A with the legendary Cynthia Plaster Caster, she who, with the hopes of bedding rock stars, began casting their naughty bits in the 1960s? Her first cast is also her most famous, Jimi Hendrix. An equal-opportunity artist, she's recently started casting women's breasts. Here's hoping her casts are shape of things to come next year...
What does Cynthia Plaster Caster want for Christmas?
I want Santa to make a nice big pledge to my Kickstarter project to help me finish my memoir, Plaster of Paradise. I think the incentive most fitting for a man of his stature is the limited-edition copy of Jimi Hendrix's cast, for a pledge of $2,000.
Have you done a cast of Santa?
I have yet to cast any bearded man. But a superhero like Santa is always welcome in my collection. One of his elves can be the plater, while another can prop up his stomach so I can reach that dick.
Besides Santa, who are your dream casts?
I dream of casting Marianne Faithfull and Keith Richards. More of a pipe dream, because realistically, the times are long gone when they might've considered being casted. It tends to be a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing that happens shortly after I pop the question. You've got to work fast after the butterfly net has bagged the prey!
Simon Doonan: Writer, Bon Vivant, Window Dresser, Fashion Commentator
What did you do immediately before this questionnaire?
I gulped down a green tea from Starbucks.
What will you do immediately following this questionnaire?
I am in Seattle, so naturally I will go out and look for some grunge.
What is your idea of bliss?
Paddle-boarding with my husband.
What is your idea of misery?
Any medical procedure.
What is the strangest article of clothing in your closet?
Paul Smith made me a gorgeous jacket out of his mum's old curtains.
What is your proudest moment?
Appearing in the Kim Carnes video for Bette Davis Eyes in the early 80s.
What is your greatest regret?
Falling asleep during a Jimi Hendrix concert in 1970 and missing Voodoo Chile.
What catchphrase do you use the most?
Attention, girls!
Aside from a small handful of well-known exceptions, Rick Owens is fashion's most esoteric, recherché designer. He's like a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma under a black leather tunic. And yet, most of the time he can't wait to get out of his clothes, disrobing in the form of naked wax sculptures and flexing sleeveless arms at every turn. I've long known of this dichotomy, his ability to be both vampishly evasive and brutally honest, yet I learned it all over again as I caught up with him on the release of his massive (no, really) new monograph from Rizzoli...
It's been forever since your last and now-legendary interview on Hint. A lot has changed for you since then, and yet I feel like you're exactly the same person. What's your take on your evolution?
When was that last interview, about eight years ago? I don't think I've changed. I'm turning 50 this month and I hope I've kind of settled into who I am. There are still days that I look in the mirror and see a silly cunt, but I've learned to forgive my shortcomings. I'm not saying I've got it all figured out, but I'm not as worried about it as I used to be. I'm with the same business partners, same love story and they both feel great. I've certainly gotten more than my fair share and I know it.
For someone concerned her English is less than perfect (it's perfect), Carine Roitfeld sure has plenty to say. I had the pleasure of interviewing French Vogue's former editor-in-chief and fashion's freest spirit for The Independent. The topic was her fantastic new book, Irreverent (Rizzoli), an unconventional biography told mostly through images, 30 years worth, sprinkled throughout with short Q&As given by friends and one giant Q&A given by Purple magazine's Olivier Zahm. Naturally, our conversation began to veer, as conversations with visionaries (she'd say dreamer) often do, as ideas, perceptions, recollections, and other pearls of wisdom tumbled forth with disarming candor and charming nonchalance. Which is of course absolutely fine, because who wouldn't want to know as much as possible about being Carine Roitfeld?
On the book's genesis...
It was not my idea to make the book. Olivier Zahm proposed the book. He asked me if I would like to do a book with him for Rizzoli, and I thought why not? Because I really like Olivier. He had good ideas about the text for the book. He was working on the text and he said I only had to take care of the pictures. I know he is a smart person, he is one of the cleverest people in fashion. I said, "With you I have confidence in the book, but I really don't want to be nostalgic." I told him I don't want it to be like a lifetime achievement. I think when you are doing a book sometimes it looks like a lifetime achievement, like it's the end of your career, and this was not my thought process. The book was supposed to come out a year ago, but because Olivier was always late, and because at that time I was editor-in-chief at French Vogue, I had a lot of work and it was difficult physically to find all the magazines from the past thirty years. As I do not have archives, I had to go in my cave [cellar] and to the very last chest of my wardrobe to find old Face and Arena Homme Plus, and all these magazines from the past 30 years. I was very happy to look at all of them. It's funny because my son just came in my room with the luxe edition of the book and I am very happy with it. It’s exactly what I wanted from the beginning. I think it's very chic and I am very happy with the finished product. It's not too expensive, and hope that people will buy this one.
Inflatable balloon masks printed with the words "Blow Job." Horn prostheses on models' foreheads. Hairy T-shirts. Vests with wings. Tulle sculptures shaped like clipped trees. Blow-up doll bodysuits with long, snaky phalluses.
Those are just some of the wearable oddities that have sprung from the fertile mind of Walter Van Beirendonck, who's been pushing the boundaries of fashion for thirty years, addressing thorny issues such as AIDS, war, ecology, mass consumerism and the burqa. Along the way he's collaborated with artists (Orlan), industrial designers (Marc Newson) and dancers (the Royal Ballet of Flanders). In essence he's bridged the gap between art and fashion, proving that garments could also express extreme concepts, and he's always done so with ample humor.
Now, finally, Van Beirendonck is being consecrated with a retrospective, Dream the World Awake, at MoMu Antwerp. There will be 100 outfits on view, from his 1980 graduate collection through today, as well as costumes and videos from the U2 Popmart tour and a kind of wonderwall covered with the designer’s various inspirations. These include memorabilia, images of contemporary art, and ethnic objects that he has been collecting since childhood. We spoke with the bearded visionary about masks, love, art, Bowie, and, perhaps his greatest inspiration, penises.
David Armstrong is a master of suggestion, and it is a testament to this sensibility that his portraits of underwear-clad young men, in various states of dishabille and nonchalant repose, do not come off as lurid or salacious. Despite the appearance, these are not hustlers captured post-coital or bored playthings of rich old men. Collaborating with Armstrong in the creation of art, these are in fact models posing for his new book, 615 Jefferson Avenue, his address in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. This is also where Ryan McGinley, himself a portraitist of soft-focus youth, caught up with the photographer on everything from growing up with his lifelong friend Nan Goldin to still getting stiffies in his fifties...
Ryan McGinley: Since this book is called 615 Jefferson, we should explain that it’s actually the address of your infamous brownstone in Brooklyn, New York. It is also some sort of flophouse for young male models.
David Armstrong: I love that.
What do you love about it? Do you just like being surrounded by pretty boys?
Oh yeah, don’t you? They’re very decorative. And they’re always so sweet—like having kids around. They make macaroni and cheese and watch TV. It’s fun to have them here and I like running a rooming house.
Do you feel like Udo Kier in My Own Private Idaho, where River Phoenix is scrubbing the table in his Dutch-boy outfit?
No, no, no. I never do. The thing is, I’m always the one doing all the work for them. Sometimes I feel like Mrs. Doubtfire.
Kalup Linzy, Artist
What did you do immediately before this questionnaire?
Sip coffee.
What will you do immediately following this questionnaire?
Shower.
What is your idea of bliss?
The euphoric feeling of love when I'm engaged in creativity.
What is your idea of misery?
Right before things fall apart.
What is your proudest moment?
Receiving the Guggenheim fellowship.
What is your greatest regret?
Not making a feature film yet, but I plan to.
What would be the first sentence of your biography?
Once upon a time there lived a _______.
For close to 20 years, Hussein Chalayan has been one of fashion's most enigmatic designers, defined as much by his high-concept designs as the questions they raise. "Is it a table or a skirt?" "A hat or an oversized crustacean?" "Did Lady Gaga really knock off that bubble dress?" Cross-referencing fashion with notions of sculpture, architecture and science, Chalayan's aim has been to keep people guessing.
Three new projects go a long way in explaining the man of mystery: a solo exhibit at the preeminent Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris; a fragrance collaboration with Comme des Garçons; and the publication of a massive monograph, a painstaking process that Chalayan says took almost three years. Of course, answers have a way of inviting more questions—and we have some...
After Helmut Lang retired from fashion in 2005, following Prada Group's acquisition of his namesake label, he left behind an enviable career characterized by hard-edged minimalism, aggressive experimentation, high-tech fabrics and (still) legions of imitators. But what he gained is just as enviable: a quieter, slower-paced artist's life in a leafy, rolling part of Long Island. Far removed from the treacherous canyons of Seventh Avenue, the Austrian-American has been carving out, sometimes literally, a contemplative and more meaningful existence here for the last six years.
But as Lang would be the first to tell you, country living is hardly a retreat—and he has a new gallery show to prove it. Just as he's undergone a chrysalis, his latest solo exhibit consists of large-scale sculptures transformed from the charred remains of his fashion archives (you were expecting a sale?) into what could be mistaken for white-bark birch trees. That is, if it weren't for the tufts of purple fabric and shiny bits of plastic poking out here and there.
Make It Hard, as the show is called in a less-than-obscured double entendre, opens this weekend at Fireplace Project in East Hampton. Here, Lang explains how it came to be...
Lee Carter: It's been fascinating to watch your evolution from fashion designer to fine artist. Still, the molding and sculpting of material seems to be your main objective. How would you describe your relationship with material?
Helmut Lang: Material has always been important to me. Most of the time it is actually a starting point. I get inspired by the way I'm supposed to use it or inspired by the exact opposite.
What was the guiding concept for this exhibit of new sculpture at the Fireplace Project? And what sparked the idea in the first place?
Showing my work at the Fireplace Project was proposed to me by Neville Wakefield. I had, shortly before our conversation, started to work on the early stages of this sculpture series, and with time and exploration of material, it lead to a large volume of columnar forms, part of which will be displayed in this exhibition.
What methods did you use to destroy the reported 6000 garments from your fashion archives?
The pieces where put through a big shredder truck under my supervision.
Was there a particular part of the archives you most wanted to destroy, and why?
In 2009 and 2010, I donated a large volume of my body of work in fashion to the most important fashion, design and contemporary art collections worldwide. After a fire in the building where our studio in New York is located, which could have destroyed the rest of the archive, and after going for months through the pieces to see in which condition they are, I slowly became intrigued by the idea of destroying it myself and using it as raw material for my art. I shredded all the pieces without remorse or preference. It was about erasing the difference of what they once stood for.
Here, designer-director-hunk Tom Ford opens up on a range of surprising topics, from feeling like a loner to drinking too much post-Gucci to not existing sexually. Really!...
Mr. Ford, have you had a midlife crisis?
Yes. Leaving Gucci was devastating for me. Devastating because I had really put everything into that for fifteen years and all of a sudden I had no identity. “Who am I? What am I doing? I have no forum to speak to anyone anymore or to convey my thoughts or ideas.” Maybe I drank a little too much – living in London that’s a very easy thing to do. The emphasis in my life maybe switched to things that were not the important things. So yeah, I had a bit of a midlife crisis. I wish there was a better term for that. It comes to everybody, maybe in your thirties, maybe in your forties, maybe in your sixties or seventies, who knows. You get to the moment where you feel the clock is ticking and you are wondering if you are really getting the most out of your life.
If you have everything in life it is easier to lose yourself, it seems.
And if you do have everything it is also easier to understand that those are not the important things. Unfortunately a lot of people don’t get to that point. They spend their lives striving and still don’t learn those lessons. Other people figure it out at age twenty and they’re completely balanced and together and understand how to keep things in check from an early age.
How would you describe your current state of mind?
I feel that I don’t need anything for a good life. I grew up in New Mexico and the older I get I have less need for contemporary culture and big cities and all the stuff we are bombarded with. I am happier at my ranch in the middle of nowhere watching a bug carry leaves across the grass, listening to silence, riding my horse, and being in open space. So I have some sort of security that if I lost everything in my life, I would be very happy with the simple things because they are the ones that are important.
So the glamour you stand for doesn’t interest you?
After just being in New Mexico for two months, I realized that I could really work from anywhere. I am really a loner after all; I am really not a social person. Because of my job people think I am out every night, but I really hate all that. I am somebody who likes to be alone and see some close friends. I am a shy and introspective person.
Watch Eniko Mihalik luxuriate at the Carlton Hotel in Cannes and strut around the promenade in this sweet, breezy video for YSL Cruise 2012...
Wardrobe malfunctions aren't a possibility when you're Madonna dressed by Riccardo Tisci...
Fashion fans and history buffs alike will go weak in the knees over the book Louis Vuitton/Marc Jacobs...
Jan-Jan Van Essche's Antwerp-based men's line possesses a vaguely ethnic, urban-nomad, unisex appeal...…
A new rumor about her post-French Vogue plans seems to hatch every other day. This one, however, appears plausible...…
Fondazione Prada, Miuccia Prada and Patrizio Bertelli's palatial new art space in Venice, is beyond reproach...…