How cool to be quoted in Noelle Faulkner’s article for Vogue Australia on the emerging anti-perfect aesthetic.
In her piece, ‘The Whole Picture’ (in the August issue), she charts the convergence of discreet fashion and beauty, particularly the growing shift away from obvious enhancements in pursuit of so-called perfection (pillow cheeks, snatched jawlines, uber-pumped lips) and towards a more self-accepting, everyday aesthetic. (more…)
The post-Covid hedonism wave we were promised doesn’t seem to have quite materialised. There are glimpses of it – a whiff of a smoking revival, the return of the indie sleaze aesthetic – but mostly it’s a lingering backward glance to wilder times.
Discothèque candles got the memo and ran with it. Founded by L.A ladies Jessie Willner and Hanover Booth, the intoxicatingly-scented and gorgeously packaged candles are named after storied clubbing landmarks of their time – think Hacienda, Crisco Disco, Paradise Garage and the Mudd Club. (more…)
Let’s say it now, there’s not a lot of newness around at the mo. The world’s in flux, designers are scared for their jobs, no one’s taking risks and the big brands especially just wanna sell. Who can blame them? BOF’sAngelo Flaccavento was maybe a bit harsh with his ‘clothes to die from not for’ (lol) summing up of MFW SS23, but he had a point. It’s a commercial season, so let’s just get that out of the way. Honestly, I’m not sad about the black-everything revival, I can’t complain about the loafer love-fest and as a New Luddite, it’s great to see women’s watches in the spotlight. Read on for my round-up of what I’ll be wearing and doing this season… (more…)
“They bled in velvet-tufted hotel suites and town-house living rooms. They bled in conference rooms at Condé Nast and Net-a-Porter. They bled at the bar of the now- defunct Cafe Clover in New York’s West Village neighborhood while the scents of lavender waffles and quinoa pancakes collided in the air for one of the brand’s earliest recorded press events, in 2016. I didn’t get to go, but my boss at the time did. She returned to the office a few fluid ounces lighter, painted with a newfound glow. Not the glow that could, in theory, be delivered by the blood’s own healing proteins when applied topically to the skin—her blood cream would arrive a week later—but the incandescence of somebody recently exposed to an intense source of light. She had met Barbara, and she had fallen in love. The doctor’s charisma had seared her to the bone.” (more…)
