Dust Off That Dead Horse.

In response to Rhonda Garelick's Op-Ed piece in yesterday's Times: As an aspiring fashion historian involved in the academic pursuit of a Masters Degree at FIT, I respect your desire to look at current fashion events through an historical lens. However, I take serious umbrage with your overreaching comparison of my field, fashion, to a Nazi collaborationist government. Yes, as anyone who knows the facts of world events past is aware, after France fell to the Germans in WWII, their interim government of 1940-1944 was allied with some of the harshest of Nazi Germany's policies. It's a dark time to remember and hard to fact swallow. Even darker and harder to swallow is why you are bringing this up now, which is to elaborate on the ravings of one inebriated man with a giant ego and questionable morals. John Galliano's disgusting remarks were horrendous. They were also hastily dealt some serious punishment, and may stand to warrant more. He's been fired, his opinions have been damned by his employer, and denounced by those who trusted and adored him. He's about all wrapped up, until French law deals whatever fines or imprisonment it sees fit. He's the source of the strife, but in your article, it's not he alone who is being dealt the blows.

With some thin evidence you flippantly bring fashion in line with Fascism. While digging up ideals, quotes, and circumstances from over 70 years ago to support such a claim is problematic in and of itself, there are some details that need to be addressed. Your assertion that fashion magazines began to publish diet and exercise features to maintain a physical ideal upheld by Aryans doesn't hold water. I am currently reading Carmel Snow's autobiography where she discusses popularizing diet pieces as a lifestyle feature in Harper's Bazaar as one of her first orders of business when she became editor of the magazine in 1934. It was an idea that caught on quite quickly after that. Also, yes, some French fashion folk are rumored or documented to have been sympathetic to the Vichy cause, but your assertion that "many in fashion were eager to play along" should be elaborated with more than one name, Lucien Lelong, whose quoted statement is far from damning. In the circumstances of war, who wants to look afraid? Who wants to appear anything but serene to the world? And, does your personal reading of Karl Lagerfeld's fashion as reminiscent of "a Goth interpretation of an 18th-century Prussian officer" make him fascist? Why are we bringing Karl into this? He didn't say anything in a bar, and other than being an imposing force in the vein of nearly any head of any major corporate capitalist venture, he's not behaving badly.

Here's the thing, your feckless lobbing of heavy comparisons is irresponsible. No one, not one person in the French fashion industry (even making such a delineation in today's global economy is absurd) is causing you actual physical harm if you do not adhere to the youth and beauty ideals proscribed in a magazine, or by a designer. No one is forcing you by threat of death to take up residence in couture, wax your eyebrows, strap on stilettos, or lose a few. As much as it blatantly promotes pretty, fashion, especially of late (see Gaga, see skeleton tattooed models, see transgendered campaign stars) is widening its breadth. Its inclusiveness is about on par with any other major field of business. So yes, "fashion has moved far beyond the worst of the Vichy years," very far. Far enough that comparing fashion to fascism is lazy and grasping. Sensationalism knows no bounds, I guess. I'd rather see it in a designer's beautiful work than your ignorant words.

For your edification (and perhaps irritation) here is a link to Rhonda Garelick's piece, "High Fascism."

Don't Hate.

Click above to see Suzy Menkes's report for The New York Times.

My stomach sank when I saw the video of John Galliano sauced and slurring hateful statements at a couple in a Marais bar. I barely paid attention to the words coming out of his mouth, as I was so shocked by his raving madman appearance. His deportment, his everything just looked sick and stoned. His babble may have been intelligible ("I love Hitler" is hard to mishear), but not understandable. Why in the world would a man of his cultured, artistic, educated sensibilities from a mixed heritage be spouting hate speech at strangers? I'd venture to answer that question with the word "alcohol." Nursing drinks alone at a cafe until the point of incoherence is something that seems to have been a pattern of late for Galliano, having been caught under the same circumstances a few times in the preceding months. He's obviously struggling with big demons, and for that reason, I'm hesitant to go any further into the issue of his dismissal from Dior, but it raises some interesting points.

Galliano reporting to a Paris police station.

Just to be clear, what Galliano said was abhorrent and tastelessly vile. I in no way condone what he said, or care to make light of it. I also don't want what I'm about to say to be taken as an excuse for his behavior. That being said, genius is maddening. I don't use that word lightly or flippantly. Galliano's moments of utter artistic mastery are many. The man made clothes from the universe of brilliance floating in his head, and presented them in ways that elevated them to the status of fantasy come true. Some of his collections still give me goosebumps at the mere conjuring of memories. When he sent Kate Moss running down his 1994 runway as a refugee princess in caged crinoline, or when he presented a couture show based on the insides of gowns he made fashion magic.

Video of preparation for Galliano's Fall 1995 collection of refugee princesses with Kate Moss.


The brilliant Fall 2005 dresses that exposed the underpinnings of couture construction.


Amazing pieces from Galliano's Spring 2007 Dior Couture Origami Collection.

I don't excuse artists' bad behavior on the grounds that they are good in other areas, but there is something to be said for the strain that such success and creative energy put on a person. So many gifted artists struggle with living in reality, the only thing they don't create. Their brains are too busy with their mediums, their sketching, their playing in dimensions few of us visit normally. As their star hopefully rises, so does the pressure they are under to produce more and better. Soon they are sleepless and under the gun and expected to go forth and prosper hugely. What happens at the end of years of that type of magnified pressure? Something bursts. We've seen it before, to tragic end. We'll see it again, but not under the auspices of the corporations that drain the genius from the artist for brand gains. The corporate entity that is Dior (backed by the behemoth that is LVMH) couldn't possibly risk boycott by offended people, so they tossed Galliano right quick. Perhaps deservedly so. But where is the place for the madness that makes magic? Where is the allowance for all of that mess that winds up feeding the flame of brilliance? Proclaiming an affinity for the most incomprehensibly villainous war lord of recorded history is astoundingly ugly; it is extremely ugly. But how do you reconcile that ridiculous abomination with the talent in his field that this man has? How do you mediate between Galliano's dumb, despicable words, and his deft, glorious designs? I guess we toss him and open up the floor for someone less inclined to hurl hate. But what of all that talent? What of it? If he sits on it he might explode.

Some of Galliano's less successful flights of fancy for Dior (there are quite a few more where these came from).

I bet there are some who may think that a John Galliano explosion is not such a bad option right now. Perhaps the seamstresses, embroiderers, cobblers, and milliners who's jobs he's placed in jeopardy. This brings me to my final point: Maybe John's just an ass. Maybe he's been an ass for years. If he gets drunk and snarls epithets at strangers, who knows how he's treated his staff, his employees, the workers who he directs? I don't mean to speculate errantly, but the quick dismissal seems to have been right quick enough to point to a camel and straw situation. His designs have wavered in the last few years. The over-the-top creations he's sent down the runway haven't translated to sales as heatedly as in his heyday. There were rumblings of LVMH dissatisfaction seasons ago. I don't think they anticipated this kind of an end, but maybe the smoking camera phone was their way out. And maybe it's time. The heads of houses can stay on for years, with little change. Now there's a job opening: Seeking brilliant designer with PR skills and a love of water over whiskey. Anti-Semites need not apply.

You Look So Pretty In Your Underwear.

Will I ever get tired of looking at pretty things? No. Watching couture move is a special experience. It's enchanting.

Construction Worker.

How badly do you need a couturier? Well, how badly do you need pants?

John Galliano's recent collections for Dior have made the art of making clothing visible. He's been sending gowns down the runway that show you what they're made of. He's turned them inside out, with crinoline as their top layer and gorgeous brocade underskirts peeking out from beneath. No, he doesn't don a hard hat (or maybe he does? I could sooo see that happening.) but Galliano's workmanship on these transparent garments qualifies him as a very fashionable construction worker.

Half dressed, full-on.

With the start of couture season in Paris this week, the inevitable question on everyone's mind in the current economic climate is, "What place does couture have in a recession?". Galliano's most recent collection, shown on July 6th, deftly answers that inquiry. In fact, Galliano's penchant for exposing the underpinnings of his garments in recent times has been building this answer all along--it's an artform. There are so many skilled laborers involved in making couture. It's an industry that employs specifically capable hands, many of them. Showing the bones and bearings of his well-built gowns puts the craft of couture on clear display and claims it as an art.

Gowns show their underthings.

There is always a place for art in society, rich or poor. There will always be people wealthy enough to purchase couture. That's just a fact. Dior is synonymous with couture and the art deserves to go on, whether or not the public at large deems it necessary. It's art. It makes life magic. To fully illuminate that magic Galliano smartly curtailed his usually lavish staging and theatrics, choosing to show his latest collection in the cabines of the Dior studios. That restraint allowed people to focus on the art of his craft even more.

Shoes were all corset hooks and bra clasps.

Pat McGrath's classic cabine mannequin makeup and Orlando Pita's kinky crimps.

And crafty it was. In various stages of unreadiness and undress, Galliano sent his models out to be viewed by the invited guests half-clothed. Bras, panties, garters, and girdles made very prominent appearances. In my mind this is Galliano's tongue in cheekiest statement about the relevance of the couturier. How necessary is a couture-capable designer? Well, how badly do you want your skirt? You need him, ladies and gentlemen, you need him. That black bra, while smashingly sutured and well-built, is no proper lady's day dress. Ensembles are in need of a capable designer and some rather skilled hands, otherwise, they are just bits and pieces. They are unfinished and unready. You need the couturier; you need Galliano. And even if you don't need him, he's not going anywhere. He's too smart to disappear. And, he's fun to have around, isn't he?

The construction worker and his girls.

All photos via style.com.

Master Class with John Galliano

Here's a rare chance to hang out with Mr. John Galliano for a little private tour of some of the highlights of the Dior archive. The dresses come both from Mr. Dior's own, historic work and Galliano's decade plus of diligent service to the house of Dior. They look almost as fab as John himself-- almost.



This video was actually made in 2006 to celebrate Galliano's ten year mark at the helm of the house. I can't wait to see the retrospective of the 15 year mark. His work is always fascinating and a little, dare I say, crazy. What a treat to hear him discuss it in private, and in his lilting, effete voice, no less! Thanks internets!

While we are on the subject of John Galliano, I need to fawn over his unbelievable collection of exit photos. His final wave and walk outfits at his shows are immensely enjoyable. Here's just a few:






A rapier, a space suit, some payos, a rake? Loves it.

Photos are all from Style.com.

Why I Love John Galliano...

Reason #1: This photo, which proves his endless desire to thrill with theatricality.

Reason #5,368 through #5,370: These gorgeously embellished sheer dresses that make even a modest girl like myself want to bare it all.

Reason #Umpteen: The beauty he creates with his makeup and hair teams. Mmmmmm. Pretty.

You make me happy John; you make me happy.

Photos from Style.com.

A Legend In His Own Time.

Excuse me, do you have any pretty glowsticks you can wave in my face for a while? I'm totally high on fashion ecstasy. YouTube is my pusher and my tab is Galliano flavored, a vintage Spring 1995. Here is his amazing Legends catwalk show, part 1:

Tell me that doesn't make you ridiculously happy, and I'll tell you it does. You want more don't you? Here's another hit. Part 2:

Just so we're clear, the only ecstasy I condone is Galliano-related. It will add wrinkles, not holes.

Bloody Merry

Happy Friday the 13th! I was riding a bunch of elevators today and marveling at the depth of our superstition surrounding the number 13 every time we skipped past the twelfth floor and arrived directly at the fourteenth. Our fear goes deep! In honor of this auspicious day (Holiday?) I'm presenting one of fashion's all time spookiest collections courtesy of John Galliano for Christian Dior. The show is from the Spring Couture season of 2006 and did blood and gore enough beautiful justice to raise the dead. Mix Galliano's French Revelution-inspired slasher couture with Pat McGrath's deadly makeup skills and you've got a frighteningly gorgeous presentation. Here's a look back:

The garments were slashed and torn and then beaded and lacquered in various shades of red, shiny materials to look blood soaked and spotted.

The best/goriest part was the deadly makeup, ingeniously designed and applied by McGrath to make the beautiful models look horrendous. Offset by red dipped pearl necklaces looking like wounds dripping with blood, the collection was a slashing success.

My personal favorite part, however, had to be Mr. Galliano's deadly serious exit walk. Armed with a rapier, he made it quite clear that he was responsible for all of the carnage.

All photos from the archives on Style.com.

Hair Apparent

I'm not crazy about Galliano's new couture collection for Dior. He's gone all Dutch on us. While I can never knock his immensely impressive craftsmanship and his "dream my little dream" fantasy mentality, I suppose my fashion dreams just don't involve stiff, overstuffed Flemish Master Painter-inspired gowns because I'm not feeling this collection.

It reminds me a bit too much of stuffy living room upholstery, and giant window treatments. You know what I do love, though? The hair:

I know, it's crazy. It's a lion's mane of crimped tresses all sewn through with string and braided in corn rows. It seems to be showing the underpinnings of a wigged woman, the behind the scenes, undone state of something meant to be more pristine. I love it. See, that makes it into my fantasy land. Big hair does it for me. Something undone does it for me.

Photos: full body: Alessandro Lucioni/Imax Tree; details: Matteo Volta/Imax Tree; all via Style.com

The Queen of Makeup

Buried under the fearful financial headlines on today's Times site is a lovely escape from the stress in the form of a video about Pat McGrath. The recently feted and fabulous Suzy Menkes of the International Herald Tribune rightfully calls McGrath "The Queen of Makeup". The woman is an absolute artist and her collaborations with John Galliano are always a highpoint of any fashion week.

She can do it all, from otherworldly to simply beautiful.

Images: Style.com