Summer mornings. Is there anything more pathos-inducing than the idea of our glorious summer dissipating into a distant memory? Will we look back in years to come on the Summer Of 2018 as the year of golden sunrises, a dreamlike did-it-really-happen myth, never to be experienced again in our lifetime? Hmmm, maybe that’s a tad melodramatic, but there’s something extra special about sun-soaked August mornings, especially those spent amongst lush foliage and blush-hued hydrangeas as far as the eye can see.
On the upside, this in-between gap of post-summer, not-quite-autumn has its own brand of optimism. (more…)
I feel a bit guilty saying this, but Alasdair McLennan’s story in UK Vogue’s September issue was my favourite. Even if, as a commenter on The Fashion Spot described it, “[it’s the] same editorial he’s been doing this entire decade”. (Ouch.) I know I should be raving about the Rihanna shoot or the Anton Corbijn shoot (which is lush) but sometimes I just want some tried and tested retro heritage candy, which this delivers. (more…)
Never not buying books about 1970s New York! Here’s a brilliant one on the New York downtown scene by Blondie’s Chris Stein. Point of View: Me, New York City, and the Punk Scene looks like a time capsule of New York at its run down, romanticized best, encompassing legendary characters (William Boroughs, Iggy Pop, Andy Warhol) amongst city streetscapes and New York nightlife. (more…)