The Work of a Critic in the Age of Digital Reproduction
With each video I watched, the same questions kept popping into my head. What exactly am I supposed to review?
Feature and Op-Ed articles
With each video I watched, the same questions kept popping into my head. What exactly am I supposed to review?
Being a part of SZ community, you probably know that we love the interplay of music and fashion. The two intrinsically go together. Music merch has always been dear to us, and this is our first attempt to give StyleZeitgeist that spin in physical form. Remember how in high school you wore a band tee and saw someone wearing one too and it was a reason to struck up a conversation and maybe make a friend? We hope these pins will be like that. After all SZ has began as a community and remains one.
Editor’s Note: This article was originally published in 2011 in the first print issue of the short-lived Sebastian magazine from London’s Hostem boutique. I thought it deserves a wider audience, so I decided to reprint it with permission. I made nominal changes, but its 2011 version, including the images, is pretty much preserved. ———————————————————————————————– The…
I am straight. This must be stated for the purpose of this article, because it’s about my history of buying women’s clothes.
At the Sacai show Saturday I was thinking whether a designer who sticks to a formula will sooner or later tire her audience out.
Once again the fashion horde descended on Paris, the city of great beauty and inconvenience, to see what the best of menswear designers would offer.
As a reader of this magazine you may not be familiar with Pitti Uomo, the largest menswear trade show in the world that takes place in Florence twice a year, right before the Milan fashion week.
In 1978 in London the young musician by the name Daniel Miller recorded two songs, “T.V.O.D.” and “Warm Leatherette” under the moniker The Normal.
The trio of Saturday shows from the Comme des Garcons universe made me breathe a sigh of relief for the fact that there are no Japanese luxury fashion conglomerates who have to answer to their shareholders first and to fashion second (or say fifth).
Paris, France – “Dries, now there is a real designer,” sighed my AirBnB landlord, after expressing his frustration about working for a major, and majorly uninspiring Parisian house. Indeed, he is and he proved it yet again with another sublime show. Each seat had a red rose on it with handwritten “DVN” X some other initials, which I only understood were that of Christian Lacroix, the legendary Parisian designer whose label has been defunct for some time and whom Van Noten brought on to collaborate for this collection. This was a “collab” in the Van Noten vein – a sign of mutual respect that did not stink of a money grab like many collaborations do. It was soulful, not cynical. And the clothes were sublime, with faint military influences on some pieces and with couture-like shapes on others that had Lacroix’s signature on them. Of course there were explosion of flowers, color, and couture-like embroidery. When Dries Van Noten brought Lacroix for the final bow it was a fashion moment fo sure. This was a longing for an idealized past of the kind I can get behind – bringing out people to refresh our collective fashion amnesia. Which made me think that we are not exactly forgetful – we do remember the greats… when we are reminded of their existence.