the lace there used to be.

Berlin people is reluctant to throw away stuff. Stuff that has been around, and gets filled with habits, and thoughts, and intimacy, until you can't really suffer to keep them anymore. But Berlin people has grown a sense of guilt in throwing things away. It's probably because old Berlin stuff is often filled with suffering, and in front of suffering and seniority we have all been taught to feel uncomfortable. So they swap it. They sell their stuff to someone who they believe will care about it, and they buy someone else's stuff, because they are used to feel the value suffering has given to things, which could be movingly interesting when it's not their own. Things go from owner to owner, they collect feelings, they move again.
With faded old photos things are even more complex. Because they carry feelings from the very begin of their existence, and later events usually deepen them further. You can read these from the way the subject poses, the fixed gestures, the inner tension, the evasive look, the white lips' curve.
I'm sharing a bit of what I've found.

this one looks so gallantly fake. There's lace even within the doll's hair. Pottery is spotless and hats are pure joy. On the left, behind the man, you can catch a glimpse of another noble tea-party. I wish I know when that was taken. That forest totally looks like the one Marie Antoniette firstly met the Dauphin of France. I mean in the overly famous movie with Kristen, which was bah, but OH-THESE-COSTUMES.

This one dates 1939 and makes me daydream intensively. Where did they come from? I'm persuaded that river is the Mississippi. Because of the boat, maybe, or because I've seen so many movies within these surroundings. They are all snobbishly sulky, and their leader looks like a weary Mary Poppins.

This one dates 24 November 1917. It's astonishing how they all look alike. They seem a living genealogical tree. Biology is amazing.

He's like the luckiest newborn baby ever, while the girls on the right look like proudly sporting a Third Reich uniform. But I'm not sure about that, usually in movies they look shorter. But maybe for another reason. Still, the short one look quite similar to that woman on the right down there, maybe she was a model? Oh, damn, I'll never know that.

Frilled collar, dévoré, passementerie, lace, dentelles, macramé. Oh, I actually miss these people now.


2011 summer boy.

2011 summer is on the doorstep, boy. Time to sum up.
Models get angrier and angrier. This time it wouldn't have been astounding if someone actually jumped off the catwalk to punch guests. Someone even shaved, in order to sport better the ordinary skin appeal. Oh, this time it was everywhere, with predictable turn-ups and combat boots. Very few were wearing socks. They would have looked regular carrying on a bottle of cheap beer or a chick with faded hair. Still, they are so pretty you would forgive them everything.
Apart from them there was some fishing influence and pretty much wideness. By the way I'm collecting here the most delightful looks from those shows I liked most. Find therefore objectivity elsewhere.

Ann Demeulemeester

Dior Homme



Rick Owens

Walter Van Beirendonck. Now that's a man.
All pics via style.com


Anthon and Peter play Didi and Gogo.

Samuel was pretty a genius, no doubt about that. Still, someone ventured the opinion "Waiting for Godot" could be improved. How, you ask indignant. With fashion, clearly. And youth.
Lewis Carroll's time is over babies. Sorry, Natalia. We're committed intellectuals now. Fairy-tales inspired editorials were too shallow, we want theatre now. What better than tragicomedy then? Where you who are as shrewd as I am can gather implied messages about senselessness of life, incommunicability, the identity crisis of modern times and that sort of things and astutely relate them to the fashion system.
Now we fight to prove fashion is not frivolous. Not always. And we do that with boys. Anthon Wellsjo and Peter Bruder.
And honestly I find that a marvelous idea.

"There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet." (Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot)

Editorial "His is he hour" by Andrea Spotorno. Via homotography.


Class of 2006.

This dates back to 2006. Even though, it never withers. It keeps breaking my heart, making me sobbing with awe. It's one of the most noble and polished editorial I've seen so far, and in my opinion the best creature Paolo Roversi can proudly call his own. I love how you happen to unperceive how blurred everything really looks, and I love how focus is tiny and sharp like a judgment through their eyes, especially in Irina Zender's portrait. How models look so severe and calm even if they are so young, somehow aware and slightly bored. I love the soft flash, and the sienna pastiche which gets darker at the corners and supports clothes in giving every shoot a peculiar country look. Hanne-Gaby Odiele looks so fresh, and her hair color so healthy and daintily vintage. I love that Miu Miu broiderie dress worn by Felicity Gilbert, Meeli Mulari's tie, and every garment over Michaela H. New faces like rosebuds in the fashion industry.

Paolo Roversi for Vogue UK, january 2006, scans via The Fashion Box.

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