I want to live in Breton striped shirts from France. They've been hot since Bardot was a fresh young bombshell. See?
If it was good enough for Bardot, it'll do me just fine. Also, the Breton stripe isn't your typical simple shirt, it has a histiore all it's own. In 1858 the shirt became an official part of the French sailors' uniform through an act of law. The blue and white stripes were seen as an overboard man's best bet for visibility and rescue. As Ms. Chanel (that's Coco to you) brought her clothing revolution to the masses in the '20s, her most resounding message was that of comfort and suitability rather than etiquette and pinching formality. The work-wear clothing of sailors became perfect resort wear for her fans--trendy St. Tropez beach goers that sported their stripes as freedom fashion in the '30s and '40s. The '50s and '60s saw the shirt adopted by the avant-garde, like many symbols of the working class. Next up was Warhol, who made a habit of donning stripes because he thought they were pretty. From Sartre to Picasso to Warhol to Gaultier to you, the thread of the Breton is knotted all through pop and practical history. It never loses it's hip. There should be one on your back, or at least in your closet. Get the real deal from French purveyor Brittany Boutique, or pick up one of a million striped facsimiles and make it a staple of your clothing stable.
Lachapelle's blazing photo of Alexander McQueen. Nothing is added in digitally, it's all happening.
There's something overexposed about David Lachapelle, but I think it's intentional. His work, his aesthetic has been so used up in current culture that I've avoided profiling him. I thought his look was so over and pop media was as saturated with Lachapelle as his acid-bright color pallet. But then I meandered through the world of Youtube and found this lost Lost promo from the UK, and I was reminded of how his cinematic style is always executed so well, whether he's shooting a TV advert, or a fashion spread.
Lachapelle was an explosion in the '90s. He took fashion photography and cranked all of its knobs up to the max. The colors, the action, the props multiplied like so many bunnies--it was allso incredibly novel and necessary. The Maximalism of the '80s was splashed all over Lachapelle's work, but with an ironic edge that tugged at your laugh lines, and elicited a smirk rather than a sneer. Lachapelle's work was the extacy to the coke (think Guy Bourdain) of the '80s, and the club culture with all of its attendant substances and throbbing beats are where Lachapelle got his start.
A job at Studio 54 led to a meeting with Andy Warhol which led to a permanent spot on the team of Interview Magazine. From there Lachapelle just skyrocketed, and brought his tranny, club-hopping friends with him. His splashy style was perfect for the candy-sweet '90s and his work found a home in Rollingstone Magazine before long.
The standout feature of Chapelle's shots has always been their theatricality. The colors are so loud you can practically hear them, and the sets are works of wonder. Either painted in vibrant hues or stocked with row after row of poppy prop, the environments Chapelle and his talented team create are storytelling tools. A Chapelle portrait is no ordinay celeb snap, it's often an uber-heightened documentation of someone's persona, like when people claim they can photograph your aura. For instance, there's Pamela Anderson and her giant breasts hatching fully formed from a simple egg, there's Gaga surrounded by tiny, plastic bubbles, Madonna dancing in the streets with a block full of motley fans.
David's fashion work for Italian Vogue, I-D, and Delicae Vitae has all the same pop and crazy circumstance. Shoe stories are boltered by bodybuilders, and designer pieces are donned by models made to look like dolls. It's all like a dazzling disco on too much amphetimines, or rather maybe just enough. His style is everywhere, yes, but that too is a testament to his talents. Lachapelle is his own universe, and I love to visit through his photos.
I purchased these Warhol lip plates at the Whitney Museum a few months back and have been getting mouths full of compliments on them ever since. I put them on the coffee table for use as coasters and they are quite the conversation piece.
Want a sundae in a fitting dish? Scoop up the Warhol banana bowls for some seriously well-served splits.
Each set of serving ware won't set you back more than $20. Click the images above for ordering information.
