Post-Alexander Wang, Balenciaga clearly has its eye on a vanguardist à la Nicolas Ghesquière, who previously held the post of artistic director, spearheading its progressive revival. The person the house hired is Demna Gvasalia — a name only the fashion cognoscenti would recognize. The news was announced today, not even a week since Wang's last collection for the house.
Gvasalia — born in Georgia (as in the Causasus) and trained in Antwerp at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts — is the main designer of the four-year-old Paris label Vetements, which, as the name suggests, retains an underground, anonymous aura not unlike Hood By Air in New York. It's also not unlike Maison Margiela, where Gvasalia spent three years as a senior designer. Following that, he put in time as senior women's designer at Louis Vuitton, working under both Marc Jacobs and Nicholas Ghesquière — which brings it full circle. Moving to Balenciaga, however, means decamping LVMH for Kering.
Gvasalia's debut collection for Balenciaga bow in March.
Debuting tomorrow on the French TV channel Arte (but airing in full now on VanityFair.fr), 'Le Testament d'Alexander McQueen' manages to distill the British designer's wild 20-year career into one impossible hour. Created by journalist and filmmaker Loïc Prigent (who made similar treatments of Karl Lagerfeld and Sonia Rykiel). the documentary brings together a multitude of video interviews and reams upon reams of video footage, focusing mostly on his last four shows.
Ever since an excerpt from Grace Jones' new memoirs was released a few weeks ago, in which she spoke of a copycat pop star whom she called Doris, everyone has wanted to know: Who is Doris? A BBC interview with Jones seems to have the answer...
Why did you decide to say no to Lay Gaga when she asked to perform with you? “I say no a lot." Were you not tempted? "No. For me, a collaboration has to start by planting a seed and seeing if your chemistry works together, and then you have an exchange of ideas. If someone just comes and says, ‘Work with me,’ my initial thing is to say, ‘No, it doesn’t work like that for me.’"
London Fashion Week, already the bastard child of the shows, has been upstaged by the Prime Minister. Designers and their dresses can't compete with allegations about the leader of the sexually repressed world receiving fellatio from a dead pig to gain entry into the secret aristocratic society of Piers Gaveston.
You couldn't make it up, and why would Lord Ashcroft want to? Porn revenge, perhaps? No pictures yet, but give it time. Dave is on record saying he had a "normal" student experience. My days as an undergraduate with farting wankers at drama school must have been abnormal. I never felt inclined towards either necrophilia or bestiality, though I did suffer students simulating sex with skeletons during my brief interlude at medical school.
The PM's wife Sam Cam may be an odd choice to lead Vanity Fair's best-dressed list, but you have to love a lady in red who sits front row at Roksanda on the day the world discovered her husband's pig love. But let's applaud Sam even if she does have a unisex name and poor taste in men.
In a provocation worthy of her punk legacy, Vivienne Westwood rolled up to David Cameron’s home in a tank — a tank! — to protest the British prime minister's "undemocratic" pro-fracking measures.
The designer, 74, assumed the gunner's position at the top of the tank as it rumbled toward Cameron's home in Oxfordshire. The protest was in response to last month’s announcement that the British government, led by Cameron, would provide fracking licences in various locations around the Midlands area while exempting his own constituency. “It’s time for regime change in Britain," she shouted while dismounting the tank. "Cameron plans to force householders to surrender their land and endure fracking underneath their homes. Britons no longer have any choice but to fight back.”
“Cameron," she continued, "accuses foreign leaders such as President Gaddafi and President Assad of supposedly using chemicals on their own people as a justification for regime change. But he is doing precisely that here in Britain by forcing toxic, life-threatening fracking chemicals on his own people against the advice of his own chief scientist."
An excerpt from Grace Jones' upcoming memoirs, I'll Never Write My Memoirs (September 24), has been released — and already she's settling scores. While the book promises to shed light on her rough-and-tumble early years as a model and clubber, in the excerpt she takes aim at all the newbies who stand on her shoulders without knowing it...
"I come from the underground. I am never comfortable in the middle of the stream, flowing in the same direction as everyone else. I think people assume that’s where I want to be, famous for being famous, because as part of what I do there is a high level of showing off. But my instinct is always to resist the pull of the obvious. It’s not easy.
There's an Instagram page that exists solely to mock hipster chicks. A photographer in Oregon, who prefers to remain anonymous, props up Barbie dolls in uber-authentic locations, doing uber-authentic things, and doling out uber-inspirational bons mots.
Please, anonymous photographer, have a go at fashion models and their inspo Instagrams?