The Exoticism of Rifat Ozbek

“Four or five years ago, if you were lucky enough to meet Robert Forrest, the marketing director for Rifat Ozbek, he would give you a ticket to see the fashions of the Turkish-born designer. The small showings were held in a loft in the unlikely-sounding Haunch of Venison Yard, an alley between Claridge's and Bond Street. Buyers and reporters would ascend four flights of stairs and enter a Turkish fantasy, where tea and fruit were served while models paraded Mr. Ozbek's exotic styles.

Now Mr. Ozbek has been in business for five years, and his shows have become the hot ticket in British fashion and one of the more compelling reasons for the fashion faithful to come to London at all.

He still operates out of Haunch of Venison Yard, but as a measure of his success this season Mr. Ozbek held two heavily attended fashion shows in a West London television studio.

The intensity of the debate over his fall collection - split down the middle between lovers and haters - is another index of his importance.

Mr. Ozbek has had to grapple with many of the problems that confront young American designers, as well as some that are peculiar to London. ''When our volume increased, we couldn't get the right commitments from our English contractors,'' Mr. Forrest said. ''They pushed the collection through in half the time, and it just wasn't made as well. It's part of the fashion malaise in English factories.''

The designer clothes are now produced under a licensing arrangement with Aeffe, an Italian manufacturer that also produces the Franco Moschino line. Mr. Ozbek's company, a partnership between him and Gulf International, expects to have about $4 million in sales this year of his designer clothes and his casual line, called O and made in Turkey.

Unlike other London designers, however, Mr. Ozbek is selling more and more to the United States, Mr. Forrest said. His largest accounts are Saks Fifth Avenue and Madeleine Galley, a Los Angeles store.”

Source link here.

Rifat was British Designer of the Year in '88 and '92 with exotic gorgeous clothes that sometimes sold straight out of the shipping box. Rifat worked with rich colors and textures, embroidery and decoration, slashes of silver buttons or leopard against rich colors. Very rich bohemian clothes.

Campbell Soup Company: Lessons About Copyright And Art

That was then ... it's very hard to understand fashion designers policy regarding copyrighted material being loosely woven into a work of art. Louis Vuitton sued, twice, a Danish art student, Nadia Plesner, for using an image (not even an LV) to raise money for Darfur orphans. A stylistic take-off on the ubiquitous image of Paris Hilton holding a designer bag in one hand while cuddling a tiny yipping dog in the other.

Curiously Louis Vuitton itself was sued for fraud for selling Murakami framed works of art which were discovered to simply be the material used for  its bags during the collision of art and commerce at the Murakami exhibit at MOCA in Los Angeles.

Louis Vuitton is supporting young artists again through its Louis Vuitton Young Arts Project.

Lessons that should have been learned from Campbell Soup.

In Which Chanel Diversifies: Holland & Holland

Chanel. Designer guns? Well actually yes. Chanel purchased the world's finest, most expensive gun house in 1996. The kind of rifles and shotguns that can and do come in at over 100,000.00. Sport guns, not evil hand guns. Collectors who (hopefully) will display these beauties (sans bullets) that are incredibly collectible, as are Samurai swords which one sincerely hopes are not played with but safely hung on a certain kind of wall. The company was founded by Harry Holland back in 1835. 

Not to fret. Holland & Holland is very much about fine gentlemen's and ladies fashion, classical, very English upper class and totally cool. Ready to wear jackets around 1600.00 and bespoke mens suits from 3000.00. Exciting to know that the foray into Chinese manufacturing (why does this happen???) failed and tailoring has returned to Great Britain, where it completely belongs. An example that Levi Strauss could emulate and should because national treasures are inspirational and we all need a good shot of pride.

Holland & Holland from Holland & Holland on Vimeo.

the Haute Couture Silk Flowers & Feathers Of Legeron

Long ago, in the era prior to WWII, there were as many small houses in Paris serving the Haute Couture as there were crafts. There could have been several hundred small ateliers crafting hand-made flowers and feather confections and now there is Legeron, a house created in 1880. Legeron continues in the same painfully tedious, exquisitely fine manner as at its beginnings. The slow process of pinning fabric gently to a wooden frame before its bath into gum, starch or flours, the fabric is then placed on a cushion before being punched and formed on implements that may be over 100 years old, the petals then cut by hand and bathed in aniline dyes and alcohol at 90 degrees; when the alcohol has evaporated, shades of dye are placed on the edges. The petals are left to dry on a rack overnight, a process that is slow and produces the colors of fantasy and nature in a world of time equals money. 

The "tiny hands" then soften the petals on a damp blotter, ancient tools to crimp and create twirls and ruffles are used along with heat and sometimes wax to hold the delicate fine shapes. Each petal is glued to a brass base one by one, the emergent flower is then again allowed to dry for several more hours and only then is the brass stem covered in silk and the flower is complete. Heirloom flowers carefully produced one by one that cost the earth but last forever. The amazing craft remains for now.

Legeron Paris link here. 

Searching For Photographs Is Better When You're Quite Organized ..

Artifacts ... the hubris of jpegs in iPhoto not categorized, lost amongst doubles and triples. The Antonio Lopez illustrations were stolen, the Missoni pillows Rosita sent one long ago Christmas washed too many times. The odd lamp was from Janet Charlton's Sunset Boulevard shop, a retailer before she became the Hollywood gossip source. Raymond Enkeboll hand-carved Mexican furniture and books, walls of books.

A lot more austere now. But clustered in my computer are 40,000 photos, my antique pie safe from Wolf's in New York stuffed with boxes of photos and albums half begun. If I could do over a whole lot of years of photos, there could have been a better way. For now, there's just the odd exhilaration of a sudden memory poking through. Still haven't come across many of my Sunset Plaza shop but happy for these.

Manolo Blahnik shoes, Eric Javets hats, Erickson Beamon jewels and the very orange jacket in the last photo is a Rifat Ozbek bolero.

The Art Of Hogan McLaughlin

Hogan McLaughlin ... Large scale and sometimes not, finely detailed ink drawings. Very large scale, very fine. Extraordinary work.

1. Dead Queen (8 feet by 6 feet)

2. Insomniac Olympics (5 feet by 3 feet)

3. A Song Of Ice And Fire 

4. Future Dream Part II (8.5" x 11")

5. Future Dream Part I (8.5" x 11")

6. Blood Drawing (3.5" x 5")

7. For Taryn (3.5" x 5")

Hogan McLaughlin Tumblr link

Hogan McLaughlin Website link

“Within the first 15 minutes, I knew he had a gift. He is a voice that has to be heard. His drawings and illustrations are extraordinary in their execution and detail and through those drawings, they needed to be brought to life. He has the innate artistic gift that is like finding a rare flower blossoming in the wasteland. I believe in him and what he is doing.”

-Daphne Guinness



Born in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois, Hogan McLaughlin began drawing and dancing at age two. He continued training as a dancer throughout his childhood before joining the contemporary ballet company, Hubbard Street Dance Chicago, at age 16. There he had the opportunity to tour internationally and work with some of the world’s top artists and choreographers. Upon leaving the company in 2009, Mr. McLaughlin moved to New York to pursue a career in visual art working in large-scale ink pieces, some reaching nine feet tall. In 2011, he met artist Daphne Guinness on Twitter who was taken by his Goreyesque illustrated book, The Homicidal Heiress. Shortly after, he was given the opportunity to produce fashion pieces based on his illustrations. Aided by stylist GK Reid, two of his drawings were brought to life for a film and photo shoot with Markus Klinko and Indrani, featuring Ms. Guinness. The pieces were later featured in the windows of Barneys New York as a part of Ms. Guinness’ personal installation, and from there, were installed in The Museum at F.I.T.’s Daphne Guinness exhibition. In September of 2011, he released his first 11-piece fashion collection and had the pleasure of dressing Ms. Guinness for F.I.T.’s opening event. He currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, and is working to establish and expand his label, Hogan McLaughlin.

Where Have All Their Names Gone? And Could They PLEASE Have Them Back?

Seriously, I don't remember, maybe I never knew, what happened at Romeo Gigli. One season my former husband and I were happily buying a collection that was just so good, the Milan showroom  bustling and happy and the clothes will sell out in the store. It's all magic, he's just so good and then ... rumors and cancellations, tension and tut-tut's. The label is no longer his and that business, that really incredibly wonderful business, is over.

Jil Sander is elegant, blond and the dark romanticism of her aesthetic was always minimal. The extraneous looked like frou-frou and the pure sensuality of fine fabrics mattered. Certain stores like Linda Dresner on Madison Avenue, Maxfield, Savannah in Santa Monica, Bagutta in Sohu ... had waiting lists because it was so good. Something happened, a chance encounter with Miuccia's rotund husband and first she was in, then she was out, then she was ever so briefly in and then it was very much over.

Roland Mouret had The Dress, the skinny tight magically constructed dress that sold for more on eBay than even in shops. It was essential, a mood that suited Victoria Beckham who understands it better than anyone. The name was gone, some European shoes or maybe dresses for the European Gap's and somehow, I do believe, he was able to find backers to buy back his name. His very name ...

Whatever happened to the intensely masterful Herve Leger should be a fashion school lesson, a movie and new laws to protect creators from predatory entanglements. Just shaking my head, literally, imagining the fate of YSL if Pierre Berge had not been by his side, protecting his brand. Years and years, a couple of decades have gone by and the genius, the expensive and seductive dresses of the real Herve (yes, my former husband sold those very expensive confections like very fine wine; on the essential movie star, it was goddess dressing) was lost to Max Azria, who owns the name and produces, umm, dresses with Herve's labels. Tight dresses but wholly capricious and no longer suitable except for lesser starlets who appreciate a nice frock and have no idea what was lost. Mr. Azria has done well, indeed. The real Herve Leger? The most classically fine, sensual dresses both for his Haute Couture and ready to wear .. under a different name, which is something that the Courts of the world would not permit for any other artist class. Herve Leroux and they are for goddesses. Imagine ..

John Galliano offended Mr. Arnault by not immediately taking two advil and calling to profusely apologize. Or so it is said. In this day and age where many of us have watched helplessly and with great anger a loved one lose their battle with addiction and descend into degradation and defeat, Mr. Arnault could have stood by his friend, his great designer. He did not. Oh. Mr. Arnault owns a substantial 70% or so of the John Galliano name. Carrying on without John, when he has alleged that John had offended him. I cannot begin to understand it.

The list is far longer and I am sure that at some point in many creator's lives they would sign anything and say thank you for an investment to keep on going. The practice of devouring a designer's name beyond a reasonable amount of time, seven years might be a number to consider as it is frequently used in non-compete clauses, is reprehensible. In London, when a good piece of art goes to auction, there may be a portion sent to the estate of the artist. It seems it is only in fashion that this level of abuse exists.

My own skirmish during a War of The Roses divorce over my name has made me very militant about this. Conceding Giorgio St Angelo to end the legal battle was silly. I wish I hadn't. I loved Giorgio and his clothes. It's hard to do legal battle when all you really want to do is buy and sell pretty dresses.

The battles over copyright protection continue, the battles over counterfeit designer goods continue and there is no battle that I know of to deprive shark investors of the use of a designer's name after some amount of time.

Alas.

Dear Levi Strauss, Time To Come Home To America

Alas. On May 9, 2002, Levi Strauss moved all production to China which sort of ends its American dream. Vintage Levis labelled Made In America come with premium prices, available at very expensive boutiques such as Fred Segal in Los Angeles. That particular American dream, that proud American history subverted and gone, the implosion of American jobs and a nice label gone bad.

Levi's is all Chinese made. Ralph Lauren, Gap, Guess, some J. Crew, so many bits and pieces of "American" clothing is not made here. Not an American issue alone, no. Prada revealed during its IPO process that about 20% of its production is Made In China. Armani has some production in China, which is confusing the luxury customer in China who of course wants the rich Made In Italy label.

At my Uncle Leo's funeral, somehow his widow Doris revealed that she shops at Walmart for everything from cosmetics to clothes. A cousin pointed out gently that there are Made In America skin care formulations that cost less and Doris rejected that out of hand. Which surprised, confused and upset me. Dov Charnin has gotten press for his good ideas, livable wages for products made in Los Angeles, and bad press for things that have nothing to do with a great concept. Near China Town in Los Angeles, at a large sort of mall with stalls not stores, you can find white T's five for 10.00 (along with cheap, I mean low down quality and price, everything else. Dov's American Apparel T's are not the cheapest but they are terribly cute and not at all unaffordable. (Yes, I do think that the new management at American Apparel is working hard and smart to fix image issues and the clothes throughout are college cute and easy to wear. Yay for Los Angeles, really that's what I think.)

I wonder how much is perception - cheap crap is better than searching for American made (Italian for shoes because American shoes were killed and oh yes, they were as good - YSL shoes made by Schwartz & Benjamin in the '70's were maybe better than Italian fine shoe construction) that is good, maybe better.

It's sort of like buying apples and salad things at a Farmer's Market; fresher, cheaper, probably organic, win-win. A good habit but oh so much easier to park at a commercial market and troll for more expensive, not quite as farm fresh and probably not all organic.

Booth Moore, the fashion critic at the Los Angeles Times, recently questioned this. We do have Frye, Pendleton, Stetson ... and more. We have more than that and oh yes it can be Made in America. A friend of mine, Daniel Storto, refused to let an entire town die that once upon America thrived as a glove manufacturing center. He bought Gloverston and that is where his gloves are made that every designer in Europe and New York begs for. As it should be. 

Dear Levis, think it over, it is never too late to come home and do it better. And those American 501's were better than gold in Paris and still are.

Wondering About The Impossibly Elegant Long Legs

a Salvador Dali image

Man Ray, Ingres' Violin

There was a moment that I flirted with having a tattoo, maybe a flower anklet that would peek past the bottom of black leggings. I couldn't decide on a color or which flower and eventually the urge went away.   

Jackson wanted a tattoo when he was fifteen and that was ok. I understood the impulse and we agreed that he could have it in two years. The same tattoo he wanted, not another one. He had more growing to do and perhaps his aesthetic would change. Two years seemed reasonable and when he was seventeen he made the appointment with Jun Cha. Not an impulse and not wandering in to any shop and hoping. He had to wait another four months for Jun; sometimes the waiting is longer. People fly in from the rest of the world for Jun. 

It took nine hours for the first appointment. Jackson winced a few times, took a few breaks to stretch and late that night it was done. Exquisite and fine, something very personal that had meaning for him. Six months later Jun completed it in six hours. A lot of hours to peacefully accept the staccato needling. But to no avail when it came time for a flu shot. The usual horrified, "no, no shot, go away, I won't get the flu." Ah, shots are different.

The Man Ray image came first. I tore it out of something and tucked it under my checkbook cover where I could unfold it and imagine it was me. I never did it. The photograph is breathtaking but in truth I've never even held a violin. It has no magic for me. I wanted the photograph, not the tattoo.  The image grew fainter over time and I seldom looked at it. Last month I threw it out. 

Yesterday I found the Dali elephant; the impossibly elegant long horses legs attached and now it's printed, folded carefully and I think about it. And wonder what it would be like.

It Was A Very Good Year, It Really Was

These amazing images are from Franca Sozzana's first Italian Vogue in 1988. I loved the clothes that year. It was sublime and madly beautiful, intrinsically valued. Dolce & Gabbana's Sicilian Merry Widow, the classic but slightly off white shirts and black pants ... so gorgeous and simply not possible to stick in a box marked Back Then.

It was a very good year. 

So strange to look at magazines from Back Then and know precisely how dated it is. Something gives it away: the hair, the makeup, the clothes. Not so much with these.

Happy Anniversary, Franca. Brava.

You can link here for access to Italian Vogue's 1965 issue, its first, and Franca's first issue in 1988.

Charley Gallay At Bleicher Project Space

Bleicher Project Space presents for the month of October:

Foto! Ray-Gun! Mambo!

Photographic works by Charley Gallay

October 2nd – 31st

Opening Reception: October 15th, 2011 5pm

Bleicher Project Space
Bleicher Gallery 355 North La Brea Ave Los Angeles CA 90036

Curated by Shannon Rowland

Foto! Ray-Gun! Mambo! features a selection of Los Angeles photographer Charley Gallay’s recent lurid, cinematic portraiture. Occupying the unsettled border between then and now, the photographs in Foto! Ray-Gun! Mambo! evoke both a technicolor exuberance and the transistor twang of lonesome America.

Charley Gallay shoots for an unnamed photo agency and, as such, his images have appeared in numerous publications, including the NYTimes, Elle and Vanity Fair. Moreover, at one time Hallmark™ produced a greeting card based on a photograph of Willie Nelson that he took on-stage while Willie was playing “Whiskey River” at dusk, in the desert, in front of fifty-thousand people. True story. It was beautiful.

Charley Gallay. Yes.

The Incredibe Happiness Of VaVaVoom and Todd Oldham

A Todd Oldham moment? Well, maybe much more than that. Yes, the first thing you do is smile, break out into a tapping foot and then you stop. Va-va-voom but when did these happy, sexy, vibrant pieces become classics? Hmmmm.

The early '90's had become a sea of black, museum-like shops with all the black pieces spaced precisely 1'2" apart from the next and the austerity didn't match the heart-thumping prices. Chic, good taste, and maybe you wondered if you could die from more of the same, eyes-rolling and then WHOA. A perfect black jacket with outré buttons more like jewels than utilitarian quiet little things, leopard silk lining with a fuzzy leopard collar? A hand beaded beyond words skirt except that it just happened to be the Mona Lisa? 

None of the polite glances at a notebook at the show, none of the obligatory polite hand clapping but a full on enthusiasm not seen since black became the new black.

A sort of grungey kid, Todd Oldham was sold at the mighty upscale Onward Kashiyama showroom (yes, where long ago Scott Schuman toiled and was reincarnated as the first millionaire of the blogerratti). Fancy boutiques and expensive department stores were lured in because the clothes stood up with exuberant quality, details (oh those buttons) and for the first time in a decade of minimal and black, the buyers could actually see and smile at clothes that were luxurious and wearable. A year where my good pal Carol Childs actually lost a black skirt into the murk of the puddled blackness at Blakes Hotel in London.

And, oh joy, they sold like hotcakes. A nice LA Times story linked here from back Then. A collection I loved and did I say sold like hotcakes? They really did and after watching the handful of videos from Then, I think they'd sell today. 

Charles James, Halston, Diana Vreeland: A Little Known History Of Then

This was NOT what I expected. After watching the trailer for the Halston movie, I wanted to find photos of what I remember from my first buying trip: Charles James half-hidden by a newspaper, trails of cigarette smoke, and perhaps Elsa Perretti and a sterling belt buckle. Specifically, the Vreeland comment (offhand, a wave of that hand perhaps, dismissive and something else I can't know):

"Hmmmm. As for stealing, if you're not copied you're nobody."

And what would that be to borrow an Haute Couture original to order a Seventh Avenue manufacturer (yes, there was once a monstrously large fashion industry in New York) to copy it, in gratitude or something else yet again, humbly pony up for advertising? Whilst Sidney Gittler at Ohrbach's paid "cautions" to attend the Haute Couture shows and stand (sit?) in the back with promises to purchase several Haute Couture bodies to take back to New York to ... be copied. Hmmmm, indeed.

Is it a venal sin to be cross with a designer who indignantly speaks out against a Vreeland policy? He was ignored, something that has happened many times at WWD with designers and even now one scratches their head that Carine Roitfeld was not invited to a certain show in Paris recently.

Really, this was not a great forensic look back to blink about the business behind.

Did Halston ask for Charles James help, he the ultimate master of construction, in the manufacture of his earliest collections? Yes. Was there copying? Hmmmm. There was a certain tight sleeve, knits that hugged the body at the moment that Sonia Rykiel and her extraordinary factories produced that look. His American translation was breezier, his atelier and his understanding of women (helping to fit and sell on the floor, not a designer removed and protected). Was he influenced by the very birth of prey a porter? Of course. Fashion from the street, which was then the streets of Left Bank Paris, spilled into consciousness.

A wry look back at the earlier days of the business of fashion. History, beautifully documented history.

Thinking About Dresses, In A Shop

Welcome to my inbox ... multiply this by the square root of a lot more and that's archived, tucked away, some with labels like Fashion or Taxes. An unlikely pairing but this is 2011 and anything goes.

The shows are very much on and I think Vogue UK hands down won my affection by letting its readers choose which shows to be notified about. Slideshows and delivered so quickly, the best part of technology.

Buyers are likely to have upset tummies and genteel albeit well-heeled fear bordering on headline-induced panic. Headlines screaming dangerous conditions for the European banks and GDP declines, unemployment ramping and the symbolic Wall Streets of major cities invaded with squatters that are angry and supporters that want to make sure they can continue the vigil well-fed, with doctors standing by, ex-Marines volunteering to protect them from rough handling, entertainment is provided and speakers encourage and support the movement. However, fashion needs orders from shops to survive and the absolutely unrelenting grimness of this moment is making this a season not as usual.

2008 was rough and then it got better. We hoped. We bought dresses, discovered that we could order almost everything online, return it without a fuss and were hooked. A generational change accompanied by shops own fashion videos, all the Vogue's having street style and fashion style blogs and media that we could read on an iPhone or iPad. Sometime in 2010 shops were doing well, some of the weaker ones weeded out and mad markdowns were a nice memory. Back to end of the season reductions and nice balance sheets, a stock market that actually did a round trip and you were whole again.

I tucked away the handful of snips for Tom Ford's decision to hold back on the video and photographs actually relieved. Something not at saturation levels. Usually when things are economically rocky or depressing, there's a rush of creativity at an outsider level. It's true again. Hogan McLaughlin, Trash-Couture, Sylvia Heisel and Eilis Boyle certainly would make your toes curl in delight, make you want to pony up to full retail and impulsively text all your friends to come look at what they're doing.

Having had a shop and missing it so much now, my heart goes out to the indie shops that are struggling with minimums, poor deliveries, editorial credits that go to the larger stores while rent and the cost of being in business is staggering. Buying in Europe, even with mileage offsetting some or all of the flights, is a small fortune, even with the weakness in the Euro.

Dear retailers, become enthusiastic and turn over every single thing in the showroom to find only the perfect clothes. Buy the sizes you can sell and don't try to stock every single size, color and fabric. Think of picking pieces for a T-stand, only the loveliest, like a curated exhibition. Tell the menacing, greedy showroom staff that this is what you want, you don't want another shop in your city to have it and you do need editorial credits. You can't have a one-way relationship where you simply give in to silly minimums and multiple locations. If the shipment is past due, and you really can't accept it, call them. Let them know and perhaps they will offer a little discount, you will ask for a large one and it can work out. Be nice, be very nice. If a rocker chick or a socialite buys their dress, let them know. It makes them unreasonably happy. If you've been buying the collection for some time and it's gotten a new designer, often in Italy, and it's nothing like what you have been selling well, gently tell them that you will need to test a few pieces. You can always find a simple something, keep the doors open because if you're not loving it, the rest of their customers likely won't and the awkward designer will soon be out. Especially in Italy, it's about the factory and knowing what they can do.

You have to love what you do and you have to get a little tougher. It's just the worst feeling to have a each of expensive slinky designer evening dresses and your competition is the designer coaxing actresses, your customers, into the dress for a red carpet and there is no sale.

So many dresses paraded each season and they are not all going to sell. The slideshows are done, the magazines have chosen some for editorials and there's backstage photos even unto the lunch plate.

It's a business, it's having a rocky moment and you have to be more open to finding the next indie who could become the next big thing as the once Sicilian-widow house of Dolce & Gabbana was. All of the editorials about the collections are about collections, not the specific gorgeous finds there are. Big difference and brushed aside too easily. The work is in the showroom. A great show is fun and will likely have little bearing on the buying.  Great windows and a great website, a chatty blog, photos of the pieces as they come in your shop to be posted to Facebook and tumblr and twitter .. a fresh pot of coffee, bottled water, cookies and an impeccable shop make it fun all over again. Lost in the democracy of fashion is the experience of your favorite sales person calling you to come in right now because the most beautiful piece, so right for you, could sell out.

Retail is cool again. The antidote to the isolation of the computer screen and with cookies.