Archive for the ‘Fashion’ Category

Kenneth Cole Tweet Window ImageI meant to post this earlier, but as with everything these lazy-yet-hectic days of winter wherein we’re left to suffer the vengeful wrath of our billionaire Emperor Bloomberg and the weather machine created by his team of captive scientists, I’m running a little behind.

Anyway, last week, designer(ish) Kenneth Cole sent out the following to his 11,000 Twitter followers:

Millions in uproar in #Cairo. Rumor is they heard our new spring collection is now available online at http://bit.ly/KCairo -KC
(more…)

Okay, so I’ve had a mancrush on Tom Ford since his days turning Gucci into the sickest fashion house on the scene (and the template for Rock & Republic’s poor-man’s-Gucci aesthetic). The man understands the art of sexifying a woman in ways that make me question his sexuality. (Much like my fawning over him makes me question mine.)

Anyway, as I don’t have an ad airing during this year’s VMAs (and I’m not twelve), I won’t be watching this year. But apparently, I’m not the only one missing the party. Beyoncé and a bevy of gorgeous women of different ages (Julianne Moore could still get it) are at Tom Ford’s secret presentation this week, marking his much-whispered-about return to womenswear. (more…)

I love fragrance ads. No other subgenre fully embraces the conceptual, the pretentous, the over-the-top quite like it. When the pursuits of subtlety and tastefulness are removed from the equation, there’s no longer room for mediocrity — you’re either totally brilliant or an awesome trainwreck.

For this reason, I thoroughly enjoyed the ’90s golden age of fragrance ads. From Kate Moss’ iconic whisper to Vanessa Paradis’ haunting whistle, to Égoiste’s cringeworthy awesomeness, the ’90s had all the best shit. (more…)

“You fucking bitch!”

Oh, don’t mind her. That’s just Anna Wintour. She’s standing on a banquette, head swaying drunkenly back and forth, her left hand on the wall for balance. She raises her right arm, champagne flute aloft as she greets another luxuriously dressed woman. “Babes! Where have you been, you fucking whore?!”, she says, as she plants a huge, wet one on her lips.

This was the vision that floated into my head when I heard about Anna Wintour dancing in the DJ booth with Diddy and Usher at the recent afterparty for this year’s Met Costume Institute Gala. When anyone else (see half of Meatpacking) does shit like this, it’s annoying as hell. Yet, placing A. Wintour in that tableau totally gave me a semi.

Imagine my joy when I realized I wasn’t too far off. There was, in fact, another awesomely powerful woman partying hard in the group, and it was… (more…)