Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
wolfgang tillmans/helmut newton, and the day we fell in love
louisiana, 1996- wolfgang tillmans
david lynch and isabella rossellini- helmut newton
APPALOOSA - The Day (We Fell In Love) from Patrick O'Dell on Vimeo.
david lynch and isabella rossellini- helmut newton
APPALOOSA - The Day (We Fell In Love) from Patrick O'Dell on Vimeo.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
yohji yamamoto, and the new blog look
the internet was connected in my apartment yesterday, after a long while of wifi-cafe-ing with my laptop. hooray! i thought i would change things up on a bit on this blog.
in stockholm today, it snowed without pause. in paris, the fashion world saw the best wares of the season. i can't even open the style.com doors though without having pre-committed myself to a generous block of the day, during fashion weeks, because it is truly just impossible to close those doors once they've been opened. i have seen teasing bits from email newsletters, like nina ricci's physics-confounding platforms, but i can't go there yet.
until then, i can speak about one of the greatest designers ever, a living legend.
with fashion, or anything that you have the ability to choose from to form whatever semblance of identity you find yourself creating, you're going to come to conclusions about what generally works for you and what doesn't. maybe these guidelines don't exactly apply, maybe one morning, maybe every morning you're a different person. tim gunn will say there are definitive silhouettes that accentuate or damper based on your body type; or maybe, if you are like myself, you build an outfit based on how you feel when you wake up. (except there are days when forcing yourself to polish up is necessary to pull yourself out of something).
yohji yamamoto isn't a theatrical designer. he can't be compared to say, john galliano, as i have previously talked about. the theories are too separate; the target audience, if they could exist for these designers, probably wouldn't buy from both. but the target audiences could probably appreciate the deep craft of the two.
if galliano pushes the limits of possibility and shows seemingly infinite creative efficiency, yamamoto instead endeavors to perfect blank canvas needs. imagine a bubble around a person, who is neither male nor female. the palette is mostly black, the fabrics are the finest, but the textures vary. the pieces are practical and versatile. following the yamamoto formula, production of clothes could be infinite. plug in the numbers, and out will come collection after collection. this could be incredibly uninteresting, except if you consider that this is virtually a lagerfeld formula as well, and we know that a strong enough signature as his means that that bubble isn't always stifling. maybe it is just the maturity of a designer, who can refine his vision so meticulously that their creative machine breaks from boring, and is just impressive. we start to notice the genius in the details, and the subtleties that make clothes from these designers speak to you.
wim wenders' film, 'Notebook on Cities and Clothes', commissioned by the pompidou in paris, questions identity through the example of yohji yamamoto. i was struck by the familiarity of wenders' sentiments when he bought his first yamamoto design, a jacket that made him feel like a better outer reflection of who he felt he was than anything he had worn before. undoubtably, that kind of reaction will seem superficial and pathetic to those who have never had an interest or pull towards self-expression by way of fashion. but i also don't believe you have to be into fashion to have the capacity to feel that. everyone defines themselves differently, everyone grows up with a certain image of how they look and how they want to look, with a given various levels of extremity. i don't think you could really say wim wenders is a fashionista, or that these exercises, of forming your identity with clothes, even if only in part, (it could never be in full anyway), are vain. there are human elements, there are things to be said about something, though material, that can fit with such precision, and match who you feel you are so comfortably. the only unfortunate aspect is the cost of such luxuries, in the case of yamamoto and those who will show at fashion weeks around the world, will remain a privilege of the wealthy. (or the moderately well off who are better money savers than i).
this is not to say that you can't find that with vintage. some of my dearest clothes are hand me downs or in the 20 dollar range thrifted, which make me feel just as much myself as i'm sure wim wenders felt in his fabulous yamamoto wares.
what i like most about his clothes is that they are so rough. gusts of steam from the earth, manual labor, impenetrable strength and armor are what they convey, but he balances that severity with the most elegant of shapes. wide, curvy hats that obscure the face create private, mysterious auras and complete the bold looks, while adding a sculptural sophistication. the workman's aesthetic is not a surprising influence, as shown in wim wender's film, yohji yamamoto is inspired by turn of the century black and white photos of laborers, far from the chicness of the wealthy, where clothing is a function of necessity and not expression of vanity. in the film, the designer says, "when you consume everything, you lose the meaning of the object," a statement made in reference to the vast material consumption in japan. yamamoto appreciates the value of personal items, and we see this reflected in the care and attention he gives to his pieces, which are at once functional, sturdy, and rough, with just the right balance of grace.
with all that said (i hope it all made some sense),
some favorites:
and finally, the designer, with his ever so endearing demeanor.
in stockholm today, it snowed without pause. in paris, the fashion world saw the best wares of the season. i can't even open the style.com doors though without having pre-committed myself to a generous block of the day, during fashion weeks, because it is truly just impossible to close those doors once they've been opened. i have seen teasing bits from email newsletters, like nina ricci's physics-confounding platforms, but i can't go there yet.
until then, i can speak about one of the greatest designers ever, a living legend.
with fashion, or anything that you have the ability to choose from to form whatever semblance of identity you find yourself creating, you're going to come to conclusions about what generally works for you and what doesn't. maybe these guidelines don't exactly apply, maybe one morning, maybe every morning you're a different person. tim gunn will say there are definitive silhouettes that accentuate or damper based on your body type; or maybe, if you are like myself, you build an outfit based on how you feel when you wake up. (except there are days when forcing yourself to polish up is necessary to pull yourself out of something).
yohji yamamoto isn't a theatrical designer. he can't be compared to say, john galliano, as i have previously talked about. the theories are too separate; the target audience, if they could exist for these designers, probably wouldn't buy from both. but the target audiences could probably appreciate the deep craft of the two.
if galliano pushes the limits of possibility and shows seemingly infinite creative efficiency, yamamoto instead endeavors to perfect blank canvas needs. imagine a bubble around a person, who is neither male nor female. the palette is mostly black, the fabrics are the finest, but the textures vary. the pieces are practical and versatile. following the yamamoto formula, production of clothes could be infinite. plug in the numbers, and out will come collection after collection. this could be incredibly uninteresting, except if you consider that this is virtually a lagerfeld formula as well, and we know that a strong enough signature as his means that that bubble isn't always stifling. maybe it is just the maturity of a designer, who can refine his vision so meticulously that their creative machine breaks from boring, and is just impressive. we start to notice the genius in the details, and the subtleties that make clothes from these designers speak to you.
wim wenders' film, 'Notebook on Cities and Clothes', commissioned by the pompidou in paris, questions identity through the example of yohji yamamoto. i was struck by the familiarity of wenders' sentiments when he bought his first yamamoto design, a jacket that made him feel like a better outer reflection of who he felt he was than anything he had worn before. undoubtably, that kind of reaction will seem superficial and pathetic to those who have never had an interest or pull towards self-expression by way of fashion. but i also don't believe you have to be into fashion to have the capacity to feel that. everyone defines themselves differently, everyone grows up with a certain image of how they look and how they want to look, with a given various levels of extremity. i don't think you could really say wim wenders is a fashionista, or that these exercises, of forming your identity with clothes, even if only in part, (it could never be in full anyway), are vain. there are human elements, there are things to be said about something, though material, that can fit with such precision, and match who you feel you are so comfortably. the only unfortunate aspect is the cost of such luxuries, in the case of yamamoto and those who will show at fashion weeks around the world, will remain a privilege of the wealthy. (or the moderately well off who are better money savers than i).
this is not to say that you can't find that with vintage. some of my dearest clothes are hand me downs or in the 20 dollar range thrifted, which make me feel just as much myself as i'm sure wim wenders felt in his fabulous yamamoto wares.
what i like most about his clothes is that they are so rough. gusts of steam from the earth, manual labor, impenetrable strength and armor are what they convey, but he balances that severity with the most elegant of shapes. wide, curvy hats that obscure the face create private, mysterious auras and complete the bold looks, while adding a sculptural sophistication. the workman's aesthetic is not a surprising influence, as shown in wim wender's film, yohji yamamoto is inspired by turn of the century black and white photos of laborers, far from the chicness of the wealthy, where clothing is a function of necessity and not expression of vanity. in the film, the designer says, "when you consume everything, you lose the meaning of the object," a statement made in reference to the vast material consumption in japan. yamamoto appreciates the value of personal items, and we see this reflected in the care and attention he gives to his pieces, which are at once functional, sturdy, and rough, with just the right balance of grace.
with all that said (i hope it all made some sense),
some favorites:
and finally, the designer, with his ever so endearing demeanor.
all photos, style.com
thanks to my amazing friends who gave me 'notebook on cities and clothes' and a book about him for christmas.
now: fever ray 'if i had a heart'
thanks to my amazing friends who gave me 'notebook on cities and clothes' and a book about him for christmas.
now: fever ray 'if i had a heart'
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