I Know There's an Answer

Semi recently I was been asked to answer a couple of little questionares. The first was a follow up to the article I wrote for Brighton Frocks on Brighton Fashion Weekend with the purpose of having them publish it on their website (I'll update this post with a link when it is) and the second lot of question and answers was part of my application for a month long internship at 2threads. It was all (until now) sitting unpublished on Bobby's laptop gathering cyber dust and generally being a waste of space so I thought I might post it here. If I've repeated myself (in fact, there's no 'if' in the matter), I invite you to skim or even skip this post.

2THREADS: WHAT IS YOUR ULTIMATE DESTINATION FOR A FASHION FIX? "Earlier this year, whilst in England, I covered the Brighton Fashion Weekend. I spent some time travelling around the back alleys of Europe and trawling through boxes of goodies in tiny vintage shops and totally fell head over boots for the place (on more than one occasion, almost in the literal sense of the phrase). Next time I make my way over I‘d love to cover Amsterdam or Berlin Fashion Week, if only for my own blog, Owl and the Grapes."

LIST YOUR TOP 5 SOURCES FOR FASHION & STYLE INSPIRATION.

1. "I’m constantly in awe of the structure, the peeling paint and the artworks that dress my building. Not to mention the beautiful and creative people it houses.


2. I could go on and on about the wonders of a slick of red lipstick but I fear I’d bore you. There are no downsides. And when it ends up smeared across your face the morning after? Who cares? Clowns are cool.


3. Films, books, comics, photographs and magazines are obvious but priceless sources of inspiration. I love Russh in particular.


4. When I have some internet time on my hands, there are loads of blogs I like to peruse. Photography blogs, writing blogs, fashion blogs and simply unclassifiable blogs.


5. I also often make my way over to a nearby pay-by-the-kilo warehouse, where I trawl through mountains of (mostly rubbish) clothes on the chance that I might come across a gem. Thankfully, I almost always come out with a couple of mind blowing ’80s pieces. I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t influenced my style."
   

IF YOU COULD INTERVIEW ANY DESIGNER OF YOUR CHOICE WHO WOULD IT BE AND WHAT'S THE FIRST QUESTION YOU WOULD ASK THEM?
Whilst I, like most ladies, love Alexander Wang, Preen and Balmain, I don’t think I could resist interviewing Karl Lagerfeld. If only to ask how he comes up with those Twitter gems. “Florals are for middle-aged women with weight problems.” Or, “Fur is not murder, but it is quite expensive.” Wow. Both statements are completely wrong. But still, wow. And you know what? The more he does wrong the more I love him. Once we’d covered the whole “Are you actually mad?” thing, I’d move onto more important issues: Colours, collections and in what year he was really born. I’d quite love to pry my way into his mind and have a swim around.

WHERE WOULD WE FIND YOU ON A SATURDAY NIGHT? Out and about on the bustling Sydney scene (often, wherever free alcohol can be found), ‘networking’ (it’s my new favourite word) and snapping photos. If I’m not out, it’s likely it’s because I’m frickin’ knackered after a hard day’s work running my monthly Vintage and Retro Market from my Surry Hills warehouse. In the case of the latter, I’ll spend my evening drinking smoked tea, reading, blogging, organising my next market and listening to a whole lot of very good music.


BRIGHTON FROCKS: WHY DID YOU ENTER THE BRIGHTON FROCKS COMPETITION? I entered the competition because I thought it would be a great opportunity to gain experience. I simply love fashion and love Brighton so what could be better than being part of the event that marks the combination of the two? As you'll know if you've read my article, I had also never interviewed anybody before, so, while I was super nervous, it was good to get out there and do it. Now, hopefully, next time I do it I'll be a little better and there'll be a little less pee in my pants.

WHY SHOULD PEOPLE CARE ABOUT FASHION? What do you think of when you think of Marilyn Monroe? I think of that white halter neck dress. And Audrey Hepburn? Why, Breakfast at Tiffany's of course, and that stunning black Givenchy dress. Fashion is a way of expressing yourself. 'Don't judge a book by it's cover' is a pretty piece of advice however, unfortunately, it's not at all human nature. Good personal grooming and a solid sense of style are more or less essentials. And anyway, who doesn't like playing dress ups?

WOULD YOU ENCOURAGE OTHERS TO ENTER NEXT YEAR? Yes, of course. It was a fantastic weekend. Everybody involved with Brighton Fashion Weekend is so friendly, and they were all only too keen to have a chat. It's a wonderful chance to make industry contacts and the article was great fun to write. Oh, and I came out with a few goodies too.

WHERE DO YOU HOPE TO FIND YOURSELF IN 10 YEARS TIME? In 10 years time, I intend to be a professional writer. I would love to write for Russh or Frankie; Australia (where I live for most of the year) has some really great publications. I've always wanted to write a book, but I think it's important to find my own voice first. Also, back in my Sydney warehouse, I run a monthly Vintage and Retro Market. I'd love to have the finances to be able to facilitate the entire floor as a store. A space where people could drop in and buy vintage, retro, some new and some old clothes and pretty things, drink coffee made by our (currently non-existent) in-house barista, have a beer and hang out on our (also non-existent) Astroturfed roof. I would also have a cinema room with super comfy little seats and a gigantic projector that screened cult hits and shit we like but no-one else does. Yes, I'd like one of those in Sydney, one in Brighton and one in Berlin please.

A Backstage Pass

You might remember the competition I entered and won a couple of months ago. My prize was being assigned writer for Brighton Fashion Weekend (backstage access and all). Whilst it's yet to be published on the Brighton Frocks website, for which I wrote the article, I've been given the go ahead to publish it right here just for you friendly folks. More of my photos from the weekend can be found here (though you'll probably agree that I squeezed quite enough in here).


“There’s quite a buzz here, isn’t there?” called out Carlo Ricciardi (AKA Robbie, model co-ordinator), referring to the bustling backstage area of Brighton‘s Hilton Metropole Hotel. I felt like telling him what a massive understatement I thought that to be but, in truth, I can’t even be certain that the surely rhetorical question was directed at me as, at the time, the industrious fellow was simultaneously mid-conversation on his headset, almost sprinting across the room and giving orders to a number of helpers. Such was the atmosphere behind the scenes at Brighton Fashion Weekend.


I stood in the middle of the room, laughing and blushing profusely over having just, thinking he was going to greet me with a kiss, lunged at a co-ordinator. In reality, he was trying to get past me. I was sweating like a fat kid in dance class and my boyfriend had to keep prying my hands from my mouth to stop me chewing off all my fingers. I also really needed to pee. Again. The latter symptom might also have had something to do with the five cans of Red Bull I had had that day, but mostly it was the fact that I’d never interviewed anyone before. I’d heard my boyfriend interview super-cool bands with tremendous ease dozens of times, but me? I’m usually the one in the next room playing with my ceramic owls, singing about bird flu to the tune of Bad Boys and giggling whenever I hear said band’s name. Suffice to say, I was freaking the fuck out.


After some deep breathing and highly technical meditation (leaning on my boyfriend’s shoulder and crying a little), I eventually struck up the courage to approach a beautiful sky-scraper and ask her a few questions. We sat in nearby seats and chatted whilst around us other amateur models practiced sashaying up and down the room. Afterwards, the jittery model asked me whether she had been okay. “I’m so nervous!” she exclaimed. The words calmed me like a good old sedative; at least I wasn’t the only one biting my nails.


When banded together, the words fashion and weekend often conjure ideas of superficiality, catty models and enough black to clothe a thousand crows. The folks at Brighton Fashion Weekend, however, deserve a high five for managing to completely break away from such stereotypes. Samantha Moyo, the exceptionally calm backstage co-ordinator, explained how the organisation has kept from disappearing up its own arse. “It’s a humble cause, because not everyone has quite made it. There’s a really laid back feel and it’s all about togetherness and team work. We all walk around in baggy trousers.” Indeed, as I looked around (namely, at Samantha’s trousers) I couldn’t disagree, it was certainly a low-key organisation. She continued, “And there are people from all different places. We’re like the United Nations a bit.” While Brighton Frocks aren’t exactly endorsed by Winston Churchill or Franklin Roosevelt, they’ve got Red Bull on their side and, though my bladder would beg to differ, that’s very nearly as good. As if to reinforce, in case anyone had any doubts, that pretentiousness really isn’t the norm at Brighton Fashion Weekend, the Jobeeny stall at the Fashion Emporium (part of the weekend’s itinerary) were selling woven bags, amongst which sat a sign that purposefully sidestepped all manner of ’eco’ words, and proudly stated that the bags were not endorsed by a trendy celebrity designer. Very likely the first brand to apologise for using the word ‘bio-degradable’ in describing a product.


To the untrained eye, things behind the curtains at Brighton Fashion Weekend seemed chaotic. Half-naked models dropped the flouncing in favour of running around as clothes were given a last-minute steam and hairspray fugged the atmosphere like the hole in the ozone layer never happened. At 7.45pm, 15 minutes after the doors had opened to the public, Robbie confided, as he ran down the stairs to meet and greet, that one of the designers had only just arrived. He assured me however, that, in relative terms, backstage was actually quite calm. “Everyone knows where to be and how to do it.” Certainly, far from being disorganised mayhem, it was exactly the atmosphere one would expect from behind the scenes at a fashion show and, honestly, I would have been disappointed had things been clinically calm. The unsurprisingly well groomed David Connal from Rush Hair attested that the staff thrived in such an environment. “It’s a bit panicky but it’s great. All the guys are absolutely flying at the moment. For an event like this, it’s 100%,” he told me when I spoke to him a few hours before the show; the period he described as “the mad rush” (pun entirely unintentional, I’m sure).


At showtime, as we took our positions and prepared for the main event, irritatingly noting that some chancer in the audience had delved into the goodie bags that were placed under our chairs and pinched all the goodies, which included some mineral make-up and blush courtesy of Maybelline, I practically melted into the seat. Maybe it had something to do with my caffeine high reaching its low point, or maybe it was Maybelline (get it?), but I was bloody exhausted. How did the talented folk at Brighton Frocks keep up with the extraordinary pace, all day? One of Samantha’s assistants had earlier revealed that some staff had been working for over twenty-four hours, sans breaks, preparing for the big show. Now, the moment had arrived and all the hard work would - hopefully - soon pay off. That afternoon, a model, Kirsty (pictured below), had confessed she was fighting a cold, “I’m worried that my nose matches my blush.” I assured her otherwise. She finished the catwalk show in a extravagant white gown by Renaissance, looking every bit the professional model. There wasn’t a person off or on stage not pulling their weight.


The crowd was still astir, nomadic amongst the more or less free-for-all seats, when the lights fell low and a man in a sequinned stovepipe tophat (imagine Abraham Lincoln if he were a flamboyant twenty-five-year-old) walked onto the catwalk and began to dramatically wave around a conductor’s baton. Immediately The Brighton and Hove Men’s Gay Chorus opened their lungs on the mezzanine. What followed was a fashion show diverse enough to have something for everyone.

The most innovative and overall impressive collection was that of Jessy.Lou, which opened with complete darkness. After straining my eyes sufficiently, I made out a silhouetted figure on the catwalk. Lights suddenly twinkled and what was revealed was a model wearing a string of fairy lights around her torso within a sheer oversized lampshade. This designer was inspired by your grandmother’s furnishings; light fixtures, fringe trimming, Austrian blinds and curtain drapery. Curtain tassels covered leggings, pom poms adorned a woollen dress and handbags were thrown away in exchange for little lampshades, tied with ribbon. Girls floated down the catwalk in thick black glasses with oversized mesh bows atop their pretty heads and fringing was taken to a new level with a dress made almost entirely of long tassels. However, while Jessy.Lou’s collection was quirky, original, avant garde and very Viktor & Rolf, she managed to strike the perfect balance: her pieces came across as surprisingly wearable. Okay, perhaps not the giant sheer lampshade, but, for the most part, her range was very covetable. She is definitely one to keep an eye on.


Verity Lamb’s beachwear collection, Splish Splash, held hints to the answer to swimwear that England is so sorely missing. Klaxons provided the soundtrack as ‘50s style halter tops were paired with high-waisted bikini bottoms and leggings. Models with giant geometric head pieces resembling out-of-shape curlers pranced around in fabulous swimsuits and metallic jumpsuits. The pieces cut flattering figures, made all the more excitable by fun prints inspired by the 80s.


A model in a tiered white dress strutted up the catwalk during Get Waisted, evoking oohs and aahs from the audience, at least in part due to her exquisite makeup. With dark eyes and pink lips, on her face was painted a Venitian Carnevale-style mask. Earlier in the evening, I had exchanged a few words with Zena McCarthy (below), freelance make-up artist, whose first time it was designing. She related to me the concepts behind the make-up in the show, describing some as renaissance, others as tribal and, of course, sprinklings of the 20s, 40s and 80s. Models’ hair seemed to hold similar inspirations, the 80s in particular. Some took to the catwalk with extravagant one-sided perms whilst others had hair severely pulled back into high pony tails or oversized buns.


Perhaps surprisingly, I found Lipoplondon’s debut men’s collection to be, on the whole, the most accessible. He presented a laid back slouchy early 80s, with big knits, low-cut fronts and unexpected (but very welcome) draping. Whilst I wasn’t entirely convinced on his take on men in leggings, the models looked glorious in chain necklaces and tapered, pared down jodhpur-style pants, weighed down by untied black army boots. Proportion and sizing played a big part in the collection, resulting in the slim models looking ultra androgynous. Things were kept simple in terms of colour; while blues and lime greens peeked through, there were loads of neutrals. At first glance, a translucent vinyl raincoat wasn’t the best thing to happen to menswear but I’m certain, treated as women’s wear, it would pretty much be the best thing ever. Whilst there’s a serious lack of great designers that cater exclusively for men, and it’s fantastic that Lipoplondon is taking that direction, maybe the brand should consider offering their collection in smaller sizes for the lady folk amongst us. Or is that just being greedy?

Other highlights of the evening included Sarina Poppy’s collection in which beautiful and intricate parasols were twirled around and a gentleman (once again, in tophat) played the violin with great finesse. In the same collection, a model danced down the catwalk in a dress from which hung leaves. Renaissance, who concluded the evening with a bang, offered extravagant handmade dresses. Overall trends of the night, included the 80s, satin, silk and sequins, glasses (both of the sunny kind and the nerdy kind), metallics and underwear worn as outerwear.


The fact that the show went as smoothly as it did and was such a success really shows the competency and passion of all involved with Brighton Fashion Weekend. For a fledgling event, and one whose staff consists primarily of volunteers, they certainly know what they’re doing.

On Saturday, the day after the main event, I wandered down to the Fashion Emporium at the same venue, where a few designers could be found selling their wares and there was another, smaller scale, fashion show on in the afternoon. Browsing the stalls, I was again impressed by the local talent Brighton holds. Handmade corsets, parasols and embellished antique dresses sat alongside cupcake rings, oversized pom pom headdresses and bulky cassette tape necklaces. Prangsta Costumes held a stall that could have easily been mistaken for a miniature gypsy circus complete with a unicycle, giant playing cards and a man juggling batons. In other areas of the Emporium, light bulbs hung from the ceiling, ‘Kuntface’ was printed across a wall (yes, apparently that is the name of a brand) and an exhibition of street style photography by Sam Hiscox adorned a corner of the suite. Zena McCarthy lamented that so often so many of these great designers get overlooked.


This year was the first time Brighton Frocks offered the Fashion Emporium, along with a bunch of fashion workshops in various suites around the Hilton. Though you mustn’t let the whole ’smaller scale’ or ‘first time’ thing mislead you into thinking that the staff had been any less busy. After the Emporium fashion show, as we were getting ready to leave, in front of me, Robbie collapsed in a heap on the floor. “Right, you want to interview me?“ Having just resigned to the fact that, with his hectic schedule, I would never get a word with him, I very happily collapsed opposite him. After catching his breath, he explained that he had actually been more worried about the Emporium show than the main show. I raised a dubious eyebrow. “I know that sounds a bit strange, but because the main show is way more extravagant, it’s organised to the second. With this, there was an element of winging it.” It was an element that hadn’t come across on stage. I asked Robbie about the designers, and whether the quality has improved since Brighton Frocks started. “When Frocks started, it was all up-and-coming designers and now it’s got to that level where you really have got top notch designers. It’s like a clip of a career in design. You can see what peoples first collections are like and later on you can see what a really established designer can produce and where people can go from having that first collection.” Earlier in the day, Danielle, model, had enthused to me what a great opportunity Brighton Fashion Weekend was to work with up and coming designers. “And it raises awareness of local talent. It makes a point of showcasing people from Brighton, for people from Brighton,” she went on. It was true, and over the length of the weekend I had heard the words ‘community’, ‘team’ and ‘family’ more times than I could count. Was it all just one big Brighton fashion love-in? According to Robbie, they were just a helpful lot. “If you want to get into PR, if you want to get into music, if you want to get into event management, if you want to get into fashion, whatever, there’s someone here at Brighton Frocks who can help you out, take you under their wing and give you the experience you need.”


I stepped out from backstage to a bustling room. It was obvious that the feelings of support were mutual and the Brighton community appreciates the work that Brighton Frocks are doing as much as Brighton Frocks appreciates and cradles the talent flourishing in the community. I wondered aloud whether the weekend had been anywhere near as busy the year before. Robbie looked at me wide eyed, “The show has about quadrupled in size since last year. It’s gone boom. It’s just a great event, why wouldn’t you want to come? It’s theatrical enough that anyone can enjoy it; the music is fantastic too. We might be doing some more things next year. You’ve got to keep your eyes peeled, check the website.”

In the words of compere Nick Ede, let’s Frock ‘n’ Roll.

Cross Your Fingers

Brighton Frocks are currently holding a competition to find a writer for Brighton Fashion Weekend 2009. With much encouragement from Bobby, I sent through my entry this afternoon. And voila. Give me your verdict folks.


"Burgeoning British fashion label, Preen, have managed to encompass all things covetable in the AW09/10 shows into one beguiling ensemble. Cutouts? Check. Body-con? Check. Leather? Hell yes. The only thing missing was strong shoulderpadding which, lets admit, isn't all that flattering anyway. Preen's collection, like many others of the season, was dark; colour peeping through in only a fraction of outfits. A palette that is sure to have pleased the colour-allergic It Girls and fashion editors of today. The Preen muse, it feels safe to assume, was the beautiful misfit who sat at the back of class, smoking a cigarette. Now, all grown up, oh my, how she has blossomed.

With more than a nod to Sean Young's character in Blade Runner, this '80s-reminiscent, thigh-skimming dress hugs the body so tightly it probably has restraining orders against it. The cut and fabric lends a futuristic edge that screams androgony and brings out the Pinocchio in you. Only, in this case, you're not wailing to be a real boy, you're wailing to be an android. The leather chest panels let way to exposed skin and the twist of fabric at the midriff is a style also seen in Alexander Wang's SS09 collection and will be, no doubt, a major trend with girls in the know come Autumn. The tight neckline of the dress and long sleeves help to reinforce the power-woman image and balance out, well, everything else. While it makes little sense, when you throw all these features - generally best left to dominatrix types - into the pot, what you get is a painfully cool, dark, motorcycle riding woman.

If the top fashion blogs and next season's trend forecasts are anything to go by - which, obviously, they are - by the time the SS10 shows roll 'round, we'll be bombarded by bold colours. So, while it's in fashion, I recommend you leather up, strap on the studs, cut a few holes into your top and put some L.A. Guns on. Actually, that's not a bad idea regardless of the fashions."


So, basically, now I'm asking you to cross your fingers on both hands, wishing that I win a beautiful felt hat AND a job reporting on behalf of Brighton Frocks for Brighton Fashion Weekend. I hope, for your sake, that I don't enter any more competitions, or I might ask you to cross your toes too. And we wouldn't want that because then you couldn't walk properly. And when I asked you to come up to the stage during my acceptance speech you wouldn't be able to without looking a bit weird, and that would be sad.

Headline News

That's right folks, I'm in the newspaper. Right between the football news and a story about a couple of John and Yoko impersonators. Okay, I kind of lie. About the 'right between' bit. Not the "I've got the long hair and round glasses but my mother's maiden name is McCartney so I'm more like Paul really" bit. I couldn't make that up if I tried. Well done John, well done. To be honest, I'm actually in the football news. And my name isn't technically mentioned. But I'm fairly sure Bobby doesn't have any other vintage obsessed girlfriends that he's taken to the football recently. Fairly sure. You'll have to click on the pic to read it. Or you could just read it in the text below the photo. But you know, both ways work.


"I gave my Australian girlfriend her first taste of English football last week. Being an integral part of the super trendy Sydney fashion scene, she is far more interested in high-waisted trousers and vintage dresses than watching 22 men with Toni & Guy haircuts chase a piece of leather around some grass, but, knowing what a big part of my life football is, she was happy to come and see what gets me so happy/angry/frustrated/depressed on a Saturday. Bearing in mind the only other sporting occasion she has ever attended was an Aussie Rules game played at Melbourne’s world-famous MCG in front of about 90,000 fervent fans, I had to try to choose a match that would equal that occasion for atmosphere and thrills. So, with that in mind, the most obvious thing to do would have been to take her to England’s important World Cup qualifier at Wembley on Wednesday night. I didn’t do that though. Oh no. I decided to give her her first sample of English football in a place that is perhaps least representative of its passion, noise and excitement. That’s right, we went to Withdean to watch a goalless draw between Brighton & Hove Albion and Tranmere Rovers.

"We sat in the north stand and I did my best to explain what was happening on the pitch (“The Brighton player is kicking the ball to another Brighton player… oh, he’s kicked it straight at the Tranmere player.”). She seemed to take it all in, although, as Brighton's Dean Cox almost scored a cracking volley, I noticed her absently reading the list of ingredients on the back of her drink bottle. Later, as Tranmere fired in a corner, she was instead focusing on pulling a loose thread from her jumper. I’m sure we can all sympathise with the fact that her attention wandered at regular intervals and, for the most part, she actually rather enjoyed the game, even though she didn‘t get to see any goals. While she may not have sampled English football in its most indicative environment (like at a ground where the stands aren‘t a million miles from the pitch), she did at least get the full Withdean experience in just one afternoon. She got to see how the warmth of the sun can create a typically lethargic atmosphere, and how the inevitable rain causes everyone to reach for their ponchos. She saw fairly poor football punctuated by some decent moments, heard an equal amount of wit, moaning and expletives from fans, and got to join in with the occasional chant of ‘Albion’. Oh, and at least Brighton didn’t lose. I suppose, actually, in that respect, it wasn’t quite the full Withdean experience after all."


If you're into football and live in England, you can find Bobby's column in The Argus every Saturday. It's a good read, even for someone like me who more often than not can't tell the players from the cheerleaders.

Brighton Rock

Today was a day spent wandering the streets of Brighton. We strolled up the pier and down the laneways for hours. And the weather, oh the weather! It was so warm in the sun that I was even able to remove my jacket without getting frostbite in my arms (right, might be exaggerating a little, but it has been very cold of late).

Hat: A going away gift from my Mother.
Dress: A few pounds from one of Eastbourne's many charity shops. I adjusted it yesterday without a sewing machine (a feat which took forever).
Blazer, saddle bag: Anglicare
Teddy bear belt: Coburg Trash & Treasure in Melbourne
Stockings: Some department store a long time ago.
Gold Tights underneath stockings: American Apparel.

My only complaint to the city of Brighton (because, clearly, they asked me to fill out a customer response form) was that the charity shops had been sapped drier than Arj Barker's humour by the surrounding vintage stores. The only thing I came close to buying from a charity store was a beautiful pair of dark brown barely heeled low cut granny shoes about half a size too small. I unwillingly said my goodbyes, my better half telling me that they weren't worth the hobbling. A kiss with a couple of (Banksy) policemen softened the blow, after which we browsed more vintage stores and I unwittingly photographed a 'no unauthorised photography' sign. I'm bad.


PS: Apparently Brighton thinks I should rename my blog Owl and the Lion.


UPDATE: Thanks to the lovely ladies at Painfully Hip, I'm featured on their website. Have a squizz over here.