Opening with a scene bearing an uncanny resemblance to a sugarcoated equivalent of Lars von Trier’s Melancholia, the lost-looking Kate treads precariously through a desolate expanse of pink and grey rock. Decked in knee-high super shiny silver boots and a cropped white wool jacket, she glances shyly from side to side as her beautifully embroidered miniskirt glimmers in the dawn.

Stephanie Di Giusto’s new film is one of futuristic fantasy, using impressive special effects to showcase Vanessa Bruno’s elegant new collection. However, its ambiguous narrative, overused images and lack of focus on the clothes makes the Moonlight appear less succinct in comparison to last winter’s LØV video that also featured the Californian actress.

The music and the powerful use of nature in this new video help to create an atmosphere for the brand, catering to fresh, free-spirited and empowered women. But certain images, in particular the scene where Kate glides carelessly across the desert on a motorcycle as a horse runs parallel to her, gravitate towards the cliché.

The music adds to this mysterious mood: beginning as a soft humming it gradually builds, getting louder as Kate gains more confidence. It ends on a quavering note as Kate stands triumphantly on the rock: in her element and fully empowered.

The narrative is ambiguous and adds to Kate’s surreal space-cowgirl character. But there is little connection between each of the different looks. Unlike the LØV video, that has one clear and concise theme that effectively communicates a mood for the clothes. In this new video, the focuses is more on Kate Bosworth’s beauty rather than showcasing the actual looks.

But isn’t the whole point of these types of videos to promote and display the designer’s new collection? Recently brands have been giving more prevalence to the fact that there is a celebrity representing instead of focusing on the quality of their actual designs. What are your thoughts? Have you effectively been enticed by Vanessa Bruno’s collection after watching Moonlight?

www.vanessabruno.com

After a long month of waiting (the team asks everyone to keep their experience secret and their pictures until the last day of representation), we can finally unveil you about the latest screening of secret cinema.

For one afternoon we were taken back to post-war times, dressed up wearing hats and long coats. Strict officers took us around in the picturesque streets of Clerkenwell, to finally lead us to the Farmiloe Building. There we found out we had arrived in a place where no one could talk proper English. It was either German, Russian or French. Luckily we did speak German and could handle a conversation, as opposed to many other participants who looked lost and were struggling, although we are sure they had loads of fun.

By seeing all the Chilli Bockwurst and Sauerkraut available we presumed we were in Vienna. Every floor of the building was a discovery with a new thing to experience and some fresh clues about the movie that was about to be shown. Embassies’ offices where unlucky ones were convoked, a Casanova bar with groovy music, where you were invited to gamble and if you were courageous enough to climb up to the attic, you could visit the most tremendous doctor that would provide you some illegal remedies.

At some point, siren alarms rang out and a mysterious dead both was carried on a stretcher. It was at that precise moment that they took us to one of the many available cinema rooms. We just had the time to grab some pop corn on the way, before the film started. Finally we got to see if our guesses were right. The screening was of the infamous movie « The Third Man ».

This film noir by Carol Reed relates the story of the writer Holly Martins arriving to Vienna to meet with his childhood friend Harry Lime. Unfortunately by the time he arrives, Harry has been hit by a car crossing the street. After talking to Harry’s friends, who have all a different story to tell about the peculiar accident, Holly starts thinking that there is something mysterious about his death. The more he investigates on what really happened, the more he founds out Harry is probably not who he thought he was…

But we will leave you with the mystery, in case you have not seen the film yet. Do watch it. It is a masterpiece and the soundtrack stays in your head long after you have finished it. Secret cinema is one of London’s best experiences. Especially if you like dressing up just as much as cinema. Look out for their next spring session coming up really soon…

It seems like nowadays you can judge the evolution of society by the number of ‘x’ at the end of a message. It all started with the still expressive ‘xo xo’; it then turned into the more cryptic ‘xx’ to end up with the minimalistic ‘x’. That point of extreme synthetic calligraphy reached, the symbol could hardly become shorter.

What to do then? The trend simply went down the wonderful realm of randomness: there is no standard number of ‘x’ anymore, but they sure have to be many. The unending sequence of ‘kisses’ becomes a shortcut to demonstrate affection – love is now measured in the number of ‘x’, friendship is proved with typography. Utterly meaningless, the ‘xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx…’ is transformed into an empty signifier, a coded message that does not need to be decoded anymore. While the extreme shortness of a lonely ‘x’ could have been the result of laziness (one did not even need punctuation anymore), it still held graphical and perhaps even linguistic value. xxxx…, however, is more disturbing (are more disturbing?): it is the opposite of the late years’ trend for shortening everything in virtual communication – what is brilliantly named ‘language SMS’ in French. Virtual communication is not synthetic anymore: it is excessive. Excessive, and yet without content.

This is true for phenomena far more important and impactful than the evolution of greetings: take television. We are witnessing as of late a proliferation of culinary shows, literally in every possible sauce. There is Gordon-Crudelia-Demon-Ramsay, Jamie-Mr-Marketing-Oliver, Come Dine (and down) with me, and so on and so forth. The format is so successful that it quickly reached every country. You will tell me that culinary shows are surely no invention of the virtual age; yet never would have we been confronted to so many of them. Impossible to avoid Jamie’s face at any hour of the day, whether on TV, at the bookshop, in the street or in any kind of advertisement.

The interesting fact is, however, that this culinary excess remains mostly virtual. The concept of a culinary show, which was to present recipes that would later be copied, is collapsing into an amusing (if not alarming) game. Surely no one will try to replicate the mostly disastrous menus of Come Dine with me: the show’s main quality, in fact, is the ease with which its format turns its participants into humiliated and humiliating monsters. Food is the pretext to show the worst instincts – in that, admittedly, some of these shows are creepier than a good crime film.

Another sad point is that the image of food is replacing food. One only needs to think of the ‘food porn’ trend (1): a photographic consumption of a physical need is craziness, but it works. Same for watching Ramsay & co: most of us will never be able to afford such sophisticated food, let alone cooking it in those locations. They sell us dreams & nightmares: “Hell’s Kitchen” functions on the discrepancy between the myth of the horribly treated ‘sous-chef’ and the marvels he or she produces. As a spectator however, little is left of these excesses. Perhaps the delusional fulfilling of a need (no matter if it is food or cruelty); possibly the laugh at people who are worse than we are (think Jamie Oliver’s “rescuing” the world with cuisine); surely the bombarding marketing, which is in contrast anything but virtual.

The same virtual-excess-without-content pattern repeats itself over and over, from those hyperbolic and never realizable wishlists (Polyvore, Google Boutiques, etc.)  to the digital consumption of books through kindles, ipads and other devices (nothing particularly original either, if we think that for centuries text travelled through oral communication and the ‘books’ that shaped our culture were even less physical than ebooks)… One could argue that content is still conveyed through ebooks, which is perfectly true, although the ease of the medium often turns the content into micro-information.

And what about maps? The proliferation of GPS systems – often faulty – on any device makes us forget about the physical reality of a space and wander through entirely digital entities. With everything mapped, there is no need for memory anymore, no need for a grasp on reality even when we experience it physically. If we think of computer systems or television channels as our moderns cities and their topographies – something artists already figured out in the late Seventies, at the eve of our virtual age – how can we bypass content-less information and go back to reality? No need for apocalyptic actions, perhaps the answer is as prosaic as it gets: cooking dinner, greeting a physical human being, shopping, reading a book made of paper, struggling with a mysterious map, and, above all, leave our phones out of battery for some time.

There is something extremely satisfying, if not coherent, in virtually complaining through a digital magazine… But do not forget, 160grams is a paper grammage. An excess of costly paper we digitally reject.

xoxo

(1) Nothing that new either: Roland Barthes already commented on the artificiality of “food porn” in Mythologies‘ segment about Elle… sentences that are still applicable today (translation by Annette-Lavers):

“This ornamental cookery is indeed supported by wholly mythical economics. This is an openly dream-like cookery, as proved in fact by the photographs in Elle, which never show the dishes except from a high angle, as objects at once near and inaccessible, whose consumption can perfectly well be accomplished simply by looking. It is, in the fullest meaning of the word, a cuisine of advertisement, totally magical, especially when one remembers that this magazine is widely read in small-income groups. The latter, in fact, explains the former: it is because Elle is addressed to a genuinely working-class public that it is very careful not to take for granted that cooking must be economical. Compare with L’Express, whose exclusively middle-class public enjoys a comfortable purchasing power: its cookery is real, not magical. Elle gives the recipe of fancy partridges, L’Express gives that of salade niçoise. The readers of Elle are entitled only to fiction; one can suggest real dishes to those of L’Express, in the certainty that they will be able to prepare them.”

The illustrations are by Anna Blachut. 

In 1974, Liliana Cavani’s tale about war and twisted love made Charlotte Rampling a superstar. She was a concentration camp survivor, and her memories about the strange relationship between her and her tormentor (Dirk Bogarde) inspired the pop culture in general. The image of Rampling wearing only suspenders and a general’s cap became iconic, with even contemporary actresses like Kirsten Dunst using it as party costumes. Last year, Louis Vuitton showed similar styles on the models, and magazine ads and covers included the same styling – you can find our analysis of the trend here. Today, we want to remember the tribute that gothic-punk singer Siousxie Sioux of Siousxie and the Banshees did back in the 80′s, when soldier caps were not the hot trend they are today.

Un Ballo in Maschera – Theatre St Gallen, Switzerland

An Opera by Giuseppe Verdi

Text by Antonio Somma

“Your death awa its on the hands of your friends!”

In 1792, the King of Sweden, Gustav III, was killed: the result of a political conspiracy against him. He was shot while attending a masked ball and died 13 days later from his wounds. For the libretto, Scribe retained the names of some of the historical figures involved, the conspiracy, and the killing at the masked ball. The rest of the play – the characterizations, the romance, the fortune-telling, etc. – is Scribe’s invention and the opera is not historically accurate.

In Verdi’s drama about life and death of the Swedish king Gustav III, a shocking deadly fate, feverish desire for love, scenes full of darkness and secrets kept from each other are lurking everywhere in an operatic abyss, most obviously in the scene of the masked ball, when the king is murdered by his former best friend, Renato. The plot is characterized by the impossible love of Gustavus for Amelia, a love that is determined by unbridled passion and dedication. Un ballo in maschera awaits wastefully with haunting melodies, which succeeds in Verdi’s composition to create an atmosphere of lust for life and death of the subliminal desire.

This new production by the St Gall’s Opera, a minimalistic set with grey steps, fluorescent lights which created/changed the ambience in many occasions (a pity that some of them were used many times and after the second time were not a surprise anymore) and a a double-faced unit which changed from the front of a house to a set of treads, was perhaps not to everyone’s taste.

The costumes were smart, modern and even colourful in some cases, helping to bring some life into the gloomy opera.

Proposing an austere stage might not catch the attention and the weight of the opera, the essence of it.We always wonder how the audience will react to the decisions of the creative team, how the director’s idea will become reality? When ideas and intentions are good, how can they be brought even forward? There is always a risk when taking decisions about such matters, especially when the audience is well informed and composed of opera followers. Many might not agree on such art expressions – should the producers please or inspire their audience? Perhaps a closer study on where and when to present such a design could be helpful.

The cast was wisely picked, some members to mention are Liuba Sokolova -Ulrica (The Witch), Katia Pellegrino – Amelia, Luca Grassi – Renato and Hector Sandoval as Gustav III.

Some people booed when part of the creative team appeared on stage, others clapped and cheer, truth is we can never please an entire audience!

“I do think it is always good to bet on new approaches.”

Vanessa Datorre Illustration

The film opens with a series of shots in an idyllic but evidently isolated farm, as the camera moves inside the house to show a room full of sleeping women I couldn’t help but be reminded of Coppola’s Virgin Suicides. The slight disarray of pots and pans coupled with the mingling oestrogen make it seem as though the Lisbon sisters continued their solitary, unhappy lives after all. Director Sean Durkin, who is both ambitious and assured in his debut feature, instantly establishes a sense of ominous foreboding that continues as a subtle simmer throughout the film.

The camera then follows Martha (or Marcy May as she is re-named) when she breaks out and runs through the woods, away from subjugation and towards what she hopes will be assimilation into ‘normal’ life with her sister and brother-in-law. Unfortunately her experiences within the cult have left her scarred and returning to society proves a difficult task for the fragile Martha.

The pace of the film is relatively slow, it’s like watching someone drop a glass then waiting for a painstakingly beautiful 120 minutes for it to finally shatter. Cracks slowly emerge in the form of Durkin’s clever visual rhymes, in which Martha’s past at the farm is seamlessly interlaced with her present, where she’s desperately trying to adjust to life at her sister’s lake house. Shots of Olsen swimming in the lake are matched with Pre-Raphaelite-style glimpses of naked bodies frolicking in natural pools. At times it’s hard to distinguish between past, present and imagination, drawing us further into Martha’s paranoia.

The cinematography will steal your breath; frames are composed elegantly with a studied choice of focal length and depth of field. Some shots linger a little longer than necessary but this adds to the eerie tension that builds throughout the film, as does the haunting sound design.

John Hawkes, even more haggard and wild here than in Winter’s Bone gives a mesmerising performance as the cult leader, undercurrents of menace bubble beneath his charismatic façade. The result is pitch-perfect creepiness. Despite the fact that it’s now been ten days since I saw this film, I think I’ve managed to mention it about once every hour to anyone who’ll listen, and unfortunately for those of you that know me, I don’t think I’ll be stopping anytime soon.

Martha Marcy May Marlene is out February 3rd

When taking influence from the fashion of the past, most of our contemporary designers have timeless favorites such as Christian Dior, Cristobal Balenciaga or Pierre Balmain, and when it comes to Haute Couture, no other time is seen as more splendorous than the 60′s. Glamour, embroideries, sequined fabrics, bright colours and textures, all to dress up the most important women in fashion. Magazines, models and fashion editorials showed the perfect way to get into a dress for a cocktail party, and one of them was an original but elegant Balmain design: a pink top with a mint skirt, embellished by the matching sparkling neckline and waistline. That was way back in 1966, and for the Fall/Winter 2008-2009 Dior collection, John Galliano designed a very mod collection full of elegant dresses to party; one of them was a very similar two-toned pink/orange dress, with sequined neckline and waistline.

City Lights, made in 1931 three years after the invention of talkies, is one of Charlie Chaplin’s finest cinematic contributions.

As proven by the success of Michel Hazanavicius’ 2011 offering, silent films have a universal appeal, serving to remind us that celluloid is a talented polyglot and even the most profound of feelings can be conveyed without any words at all.

Despite its age City Lights is a romantic comedy that can travel forwards into modern times, still carrying all the chuckles and ‘n’aaawws’ I’m sure it produced upon its release.  Chaplin’s Little Tramp character is a widely recognised symbol even today, with his oversized trousers and too-tight jacket he draws attention to the way clothing functions in society. His costume is his social stamp, separating him from all but the drunken millionaire who becomes his patron and the blind flower girl he falls for.

In his passionate quest to restore the sight of the girl he loves, the tramp finds himself in a myriad of mirthful situations. The scene in which he artfully dodges the punches of his opponent by dancing around the referee is genuinely funnier than anything Jim Carrey has ever been in. The sovereign of slapstick still reigns supreme whilst telling a touching tale of an affection that ignores the superficial. A lesson to be learnt, perhaps, by all of us whose incessant search for the real-life Ryan Gosling is going to result in a generation of spinsters sat quoting lines from ‘The Notebook’ that we memorised aged thirteen.

There’s a reason the final scene of this film is oft-cited as one of the greatest in the silent era, and that reason becomes evident when you see it. As Chaplin himself said ‘It’s a beautiful scene’ and you don’t toot your own horn over nothing!

City Lights is on 26^th January at The Ritzy Picture House, Brixton.

Last Sunday, during Paris menswear F/W 2012 week, we had the opportunity to attend to the London Show rooms Men’s opening brunch which took place in Le Loft, in the heart of the Marais. In its fifth season in Paris, the Show room seems to be more than consolidated. One step inside was enough to witness its enchanting British atmosphere. With the unexpected presence of style.com’s Tim Blanks accompanied by Sarah Mower, British fashion council’s team – designers, models, journalists and buyers – celebrated London design with a great variety of food and drinks.

This edition featured 19 emerging designers, who were presented in depth, despite being so different from each other – it  portrayed a characteristic feel of the historic and multicultural city of London. We want to highlight Christopher Raeburn for his sustainable jackets; Lou Dalton for her charming yet sporty jumpers; Sibling for their British streetstyle-inspired collection; E.Tautz for his Savile Row suits; Omar Kashoura for his quality of well-crafted shirts and jumpers and Lee Roach for bringing feminine cuts to a men’s collection.

Definitely worth checking them out for those interested in menswear and emerging fashion design…

More information at: www.britishfashioncouncil.com