Tag Archives: Kate Moss

Emmanuelle: A Retrospective

I’m a terrible self-publicist.

Thrown into the bear pit of a job interview, I will generate more anxiety, sweat and tears than compelling reasons for my employment. The comprehensive school kid in me – with her disdain for the pomp and pretence of those more boastful – would struggle to be any other way.

Recently, I wrote a guest piece for ‘I Want to be an Alt’. A retrospective of Emmanuelle Alt’s editorial career with Vogue Paris, it is impossible to say whether it makes for a good read or otherwise; in the very least, Alt’s pictures are f-cking amazing.

Might you take a look and tell me what you think?


Right, that’s quite enough blowing of my own trumpet.



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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…?



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Ever wondered what might result if the world of Kate Moss were to collide with that of Readers Wives?

Nah, me either.

But here’s the pictorial answer for all those Pervy McPervyson’s who have…



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Lovely Bones

Cheryl Cole. 

Her face, child-like but for the maquillage of a woman.  Her eyes, doe-like but for lashes so fake they became tarantula.  Framed by the bubbliest of bubblegum pink, she stared out from the magazine rack.

A cover girl.

The face to launch a thousand gossip magazines, you might presume, wrapped in the cheap jewellery of salacious neon headlines. 

Not so.

For this cover, this magazine, was the October edition of Vogue.

The cover coincides, curiously, with another Vogue release – ‘Vogue Model: The Faces of Fashion’, a beautiful coffee-table tome celebrating ninety years of the magazine’s history and the many women – the models – to have adorned its velveteen pages.

In an age of content – and curiosity – fashion magazines have increasingly looked for endorsements from celebrities.  They fill the vacuum when it is not enough to simply recognise the face on the cover.  We must also know the minutiae of her diet, sex life and medical history.  All the better if she is embroiled in scandal.

But is this right?

I will purchase Vogue, faithfully as a lover, each month.  This October – though I prevaricated, biting my lip and lingering beside the magazine rack longer than is reasonably proper for even a shoplifter – I walked away.

It was a Homeric struggle not experienced the edition before when Kate Moss straddled the cover in a brass-buttoned Burberry peacoat with the kohled eyes of a rock star.

Recognisable – yet, paradoxically, little known – my favourite models (some of whom are pictured here) allow the clothes to speak without the baggage and brouhaha of celebrity.  Fashion without fameClothes not the clotheshorse.  Or, as Stefano Pilati has roundly summed: ‘To me, fashion photography is with a model; otherwise, it’s a portrait.’ 

So let me know. 

Is the marriage of fashion magazine and celebrity a wise one?  Does it homogenise – and potentially damage – a high fashion magazine to have their cover girl simultaneously emblazoned across those of gossip magazines? 

Or could it be… am I simply a cantankerous snob unable to progress with the times?

{P.S: For those who love (envy, stick pins into voodoo dolls, yearn to look like) models as much as me, you should skip over to my Tumblr page… right about here.}

|Fashion Gone Rogue, Fashionising|


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Vogue.  Kate Moss.  Beautifully Disarrayed.  ‘Don’t Give a F*ck’ Insouciance. 

Maddening perfection.



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Still Got It

|Fashion Gone Rogue|

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