Pizza Party

Although I'm meant to be chained to my desk for the next six months (I'm working hard, I promise! My elastic constants are converging nicely), sometimes you get invited to an event you simply can't turn down. And when that event involves dressing up in chef's whites *and* eating then just try to stop me...

Charlie, Lexxi and I (aka the #A2A team) were the only fashion bloggers invited to join a night of pizza making at Assaggetti on Haymarket. They'd both been before and gave it great reviews - I was certainly not let down! It was so much fun to watch the old-school Italian chef whipping up pizza dough, stretching it out and cooking it for around 2 minutes in the searing hot oven. And then we got to try it for ourselves! A word of warning: nail jobs, avant-garde jewellery and sticky dough do not mix well.

However, given our sartorial obsessions, we possibly enjoyed wearing the chef's uniform even more than eating the delicious pizza. I think the kitchen staff were less than impressed by our impromptu photoshoot ("Details, details! We need details!") but doesn't Charlie look amazing with her sailor's hat and totes-Wang clutch?  So chic!  It may be time to join Uniform Dating.

Spicebomb

The other evening I was casually sipping champagne at the Charlotte Street Hotel and catching up with other fashion bloggers I haven't seen since last year when, subito, we were kidnapped by hunky men all dressed in black, dragged across London to an abandoned parking garage, packed into an industrial lift, led into a pitch black room and then were subjected to an explosion of ridiculous proportions.  No, this was not just another Wednesday night (or the Grindr-fuelled fulfilment of some bizarre personal rape fantasy) but in fact the elaborate UK launch of Viktor & Rolf's new men's perfume, Spicebomb.  

If this is the world of Viktor & Rolf then I'm happy to pull up a chair and stay a while.  Pink peppercorn martinis and buckets of champagne served up in a grimy warehouse space, molecular gastronomy finger-food (I particularly liked the spherification of olive but nobody else seemed to be a fan...) and a glitter bomb that covered us and our drinks in red sparkles.  Yup, I could get used to this. [Stasie's note: we've actually been invited into the V&R world once before!]

Oh, and I almost forgot about the perfume!  It has a spice and muskiness that certainly marks it out as the masculine counterpart to Flowerbomb, but the almost artificial sweetness would probably be better described as (I can't believe I'm going to use this word) metrosexual (*cringe*).  This is definitely one for the gays, of which we are a fan :-)

Jean-Paul Gaultier menswear A/W 2012

Being born in the 80s but a true child of the 90s I grew up with the glamorous fashion ideal of Cindy, Naomi and Linda necking a bottle of Bolli, snorting a line of coke and climbing off their Greek shipping heirs' laps long enough to swagger and pout their way down a catwalk, keeping just enough energy to shower their chosen designer with kisses and flowers at the end of the spectacle.  Then I went to London Fashion Week and saw the reality of sexless twigs marching stony-faced to some avant-garde dance music, the whole show being over in under 5 minutes.

THANK GOD I WENT TO PARIS.  Jean-Paul Gaultier clearly had his formative years in just the right decade and, thanks to being invited to his latest menswear show, I can now say I know what a défilé should feel like.  Held in his own three-storey high salle des fêtes (that's what perfume money gets you), we drank champagne for 45 minutes before the show began and continued for a good hour afterwards.  Models brought us macarons and a German TV channel interviewed me for the national news, all as I slid deeper and deeper into a delirious stupor.  The feeling was compounded by being bumped-up to the front row.  And then the show started... 

Andrej Pejic! Tattooed abs! Models climbing the scaffolding! I may have let out an audible squeal.  Apparently everyone else picked up on the theme of the show as soon as the music began - Sherlock Holmes's Discombobulate theme track.  Unfortunately I don't watch shit movies like that but I soon caught JP's drift with the brick-prints (a 'trend', apparently), waistcoats, jauntily angled hats and sweeping capes.  The styling really tied the somewhat eclectic collection together and amongst it all I picked out some truly wonderful pieces.  The black jackets and coats with a pixelated green and silvery white tweed running through, leather highlights on cuffs and sleeves, a floor-length black fur lined gilet and a fabulous cropped tailcoat.  The swooshy, pleated black skirt was infinitely better than the JW Anderson one I was hankering after last season and has instantly shot to the top of my list for A/W 12.  And, finally, someone showed velvet/velour tops that I've been dreaming of for the past year! Oh, and they come in wine red with classic JPG sailor stripes? Who am I to argue.       

Plastic fantastic

The word genius gets bandied about quite a lot in the fashion world and I'm not convinced it's ever justified in such a context.  But if there is one contemporary menswear designer I could even consider coming close to my definition for the term it would be Raf Simons, particularly as seen through the lens of the Jil Sander brand he currently heads.  It seems like every season Raf comes up with a singular piece of design, that extra special item that works its way deep into my subconscious and continuously nags at me for the six months after fashion week until it finally hits the stores and I am forced to reach into my ever shrinking coin purse.  Each cycle this article of lust will convince me to pay full price, right at the start of the season (the floral t-shirt in my header bar would be the perfect case in point).  It's an illness, and I've got it bad.

I've already raved about the Jil Sander Spring collection here and here.  The only decision left was whether I need the python print shoes, a python print t-shirt or one of the incredible strap-on harness bags?  I think from the photos you can tell how I chose to answer that question.  Sure it fits my iPad but AS IF I'm wasting this baby on carrying some mere electricals around.  This PVC/leather beauty would be much more suited to holding, say, show tickets (already done in Paris where I finally got my hands on it after several emails back and forth with the store), a laminated photo of Anastasia or - dare I double-dose on the plastic? - my Chris Kane squidgy clutch.  Anna even suggested wearing it sporran-style which kind of works as a first defence cock-block but, since it can easily be pushed aside, hardly functions effectively as a chastity belt.     

Issey Miyake menswear A/W 2012

It was such an honour to be invited to Paris to see the latest Issey Miyake menswear collection, as well as the main reason I capitulated and booked the Eurostar when I really should have been working.  You know I've written about the brand several times, I've bought pieces when I can afford them, and I've pretty much worshipped at this iconic Japanese stalwart for many a year (although not perhaps as fervently as Brandon Acton Bond!).  While other fashion houses often veer off in new directions with each head designer, Issey has stayed true to its original ethos even under the new creative leadership of a four-man design team.  But that's not to say the Issey Miyake man isn't evolving; Issey's certainly still relevant and chic in that kooky, easy-going way it always has been.

I have to admit I wasn't really a fan of the sportier options on show - was that a pair of jeans?! - but I realise I'm probably not the typical menswear customer and there were still lots of reinterpretations of house classics for me to enjoy.  The jackets came out top, either with a tartan that bled into black (kind of like what Shaun Samson has been doing in London since his CSM graduation) or with graded and washed-out stripes in red or blue.  There was an awesome red poncho that would look INSANE dashing around Mayfair and some black plastic polygonal gilets and jackets that were beautiful though, I'm guessing, a tad uncomfortable.  Given my current accessories obsession it's also not surprising that my favourite piece of the lot was a simple black bag worn over one shoulder and slung across the chest.  There's just something about practical accessories worn in unexpected locations that's really getting me going right now...     

Mama Mia!

Helloooo people, sorry for not posting here in a while but if you follow me on Twitter or Instagram you'll know that I've been on a whirlwind two-day trip to Paris for men's week.  I wasn't intending to go at all - The Thesis is calling - but then Issey Miyake invited me for the third time and I just couldn't say no again...  And after all it's Paris, who could resist?

I just got home last night, pretty much exhausted since I managed to really pack it in (5 shows, 1 shopping trip, 3 meals, 1 museum, and countless glasses of rosé champagne) so I'll try to get my show photos up ASAP - some of them are incredible! But I had to start with my amazing residence for the night - was it really just one night? - the so-trendy-it's-killing-me party hotel Mama Shelter.  While not exactly in the nicest area (I was convinced a man near Gambetta metro station was going to stab me for my fur handbag walking back at night), the Philippe Starck converted parking garage is chic and outrageous in the most hipster of ways.  Blacked-out carpets, polished concrete walls and seriously low-level lighting make it the perfect place to get up to naughtiness at night, as if I ever would :-)  The bedside lights are hidden inside playful cartoon masks, the bathroom products are Kiehl's, the ground floor hosts what is apparently the IT place to dine in Paris - I've never seen somewhere that busy on a Wednesday night.  It might have something to do with the male model waiters.  Mama Shelter has also converted me to the wonder of Apple TVs; a television, radio, computer and shop all rolled into one.  They even come with an iTunes stuffed with free movies (including an XXX version of Friends) and a camera to take your photos in bed (WARNING: these also get displayed in the bar downstairs - use with caution).  

I may have only been there for one night but I think I definitely took advantage of all the facilities when my school friend Claire came over for dinner.  And I'm planning on coming back very, very soon...    

In top photo I'm wearing an Acne 'Paris' sweatshirt, Club Monaco shirt, Odyn Vovk grey trousers.  Later I'm wearing a copper neoprene t-shirt by Giuseppe Virgone.  The random selection of accessories include by Jas MB fur handbag, a Christopher Kane 'Aqua' clutch, a tinsel headband by John Rocha.  The last photo shows my Liberty faux fur scarf and the Neil Barrett winter coat.   

xxx

Duck

Forest Green

That feeling of relief and satisfaction when you've waited so long for something and then finally you get that call from Toys R Us and she's in stock* spy him all lonely and sad on a table, hugely discounted, just waiting for a lover to take him home and fondle him on a daily basis. Maybe nobody else wanted him because of the fur associations (it's sheepskin – and anyway, I love a bear); maybe nobody thought they could fit their oversized camera inside (I can if I push hard enough). I guess they hadn't been poring over photos of him on Browns and Liberty websites for months. Perhaps even everybody else bought him in black – I did consider it – but it's a new year and I figure it's all about adding forgotten colours back into the mix. From my Production Artisanale sweatshirt to a new Over The Stripes t-shirt, (wine-)bottle green is working its way into my wardrobe.

I took the accompanying forest pictures in Pollok Park near my house in Glasgow over the Christmas holidays and I thought this was the perfect time to show them. There's something about the green and the natural materials of the bag that make me want to get back to Mother Earth. Or it could just be the Jivamukti course I've started, my flatmate's radical feministic reworkings of Tara, and my growing fascination with raw food.

Talking about waiting and satisfaction, I think my first-author paper is almost ready to go to publication! It's been a long, hard slog but I'm hoping that seeing my name in print will give me the inspiration I need to get the rest of this DPhil finished. If any of you are perverse enough to be interested in interatomic potentials for magnetic transition metals then I may post a link here once it's online.

*Like you didn't know that's Joey and Alicia Mae Emory

Come on everybody, chant with me...  

Om tare tuttare ture svaha

Green leather and sheepskin bag by Jas MB, coat by Neil Barrett, t-shirt by All Saints, trousers by Odyn Vovk.   

XXX
Duck