Jungle Book

“It’s not about Marilyn Monroe moving to India and having an acid trip,” Alber Elbaz wisecracked at the presentation of his pre-fall collection for Lanvin.

Instead, his observation that more women are wearing evening for day – “Why save the best dishes for guests?” mused the aspiring philosopher backstage – gave Elbaz inspiration for a collection marrying the finest of both.

A floor-grazing skirt – made liquid in champagne silk – had the masculine nonchalance of palazzo pants when paired with an oversized rib-knit sweater.  Bourgeois tweed came shot through with gold and patchwork fur. Ruffled day dresses – cut simply in black and navy scuba – were stacked with a Mille-feuille of pearl necklaces.

Each came finished with charcoal grey tights to remind, and remind again, that the collection offers a luxe reinterpretation of dressing for day.

|The Fashion Spot, Quotes: Style.com|

Sex

Interview Magazine: And why are all the hot chicks over 30?

Kate Moss: Oh, you’re sweet.  Well, really, I think it’s because we know.  We have experience.

Interview Magazine: Older women can talk.

Kate Moss: I could talk when I was 20. I’m alot better in the sack now.

Perhaps there are advantages to this turning thirty lark…?

|Fashionising|

Enfant Terrible

Yesterday started unremarkably enough.

And then it happened.

News came.

Emmanuelle Alt – a Balmain-clad rock star amongst fashion stylists – was named the shiny new and box fresh Editor-in-Chief of Vogue Paris.

The decision to elevate her – in the aftermath of Carine ‘My Middle Name Is Controversy’ Roitfeld’s tenure – intimates that the magazine is not set for a radical change of course.

“Vogue Paris is doing very well and I wanted to entrust the editorship to someone who can provide continuity while bringing new life,” Xavier Ramotet, the president of Condé Nast France, commented yesterday.

It is this reference to continuity that reassures.

Alt takes the helm after a decade of service under Roitfeld and symbolises, in every way, the progeny – the literal enfant terrible – of Carine’s cradle. 

It is impossible to disassociate Madame Roitfeld from Paris Vogue, but – under Alt’s new direction – we can be certain that her legacy and sensual aesthetic will not be sharp-shouldered entirely aside. 

The appointment – and all that it auspiciously represents for the magazine’s continued relevance – might best be summed by Emmanuelle herself in the closing words of this video. 

“Joy everywhere,” indeed.

|Jak & Jil|

Beginning

So, that’s out the way for another year… 

Christmas, I mean.

Although the season brings cheer to many, Napoleon mutates – on first sniff of a mince pie – into the Grinch and is not restored to his affable self until the clock chimes on the twelfth night of Christmas.

It can make for a climate more implosive than the Middle East and calls for diplomacy much beyond my ‘I’m hungover/ The turkey is still raw after nine hours of cooking/ If my family were sold in a shop, I wouldn’t pick them off the shelf’ emotional state.

Thankfully, with my return to the office tomorrow – and the comforting normalcy of a ‘Work, Eat, Sleep’ routine – this period of enforced coexistence with Dr. Seuss’ (non) fictional character will draw to a close.

In the wake of a less than Hallmark-perfect Christmas, it would be madness beyond fathom to compound my disappointment with a list of impossible to keep – soon to be broken – New Year’s resolutions…

Wouldn’t it?

1. When Napoleon asks whether I might pass an editorial gaze over his PhD drafts, I will do so with the grace and good humour shown towards one of my authors.  I will no longer (a) Sneer, (b) Snort, (c) Roll my eyes with teenage melodrama, or (d) Scrawl ‘This is Crap’ in the margins.

2. I will take up drinking.  I’ve never been one to follow the flock and, with everyone else quitting firewater at this time of the year, there’ll be more to go around for me.

3. Having promised to do so many times, I will finally save my pennies for a Burberry trench and skip around smugly come the rain showers of April.  April 2015, that is.  Burberry coats are bloody expensive.

4. I will no longer compare myself to others.  My low self-esteem is taking a holiday.

In the spirit of hope and turning over a new leaf, I had also thought to add one final resolution promising to update my blog more frequently…

But let’s keep things realistic, kids.

|Retrofuturs|