Sunday 6 March 2011

Derek Lawlor AW11










A little snippet from Derek's press release:

"Whilst continuing to develop his signature cording techniques, this collection introduces exciting new elements to Lawlor's work. 
Structural, hand-woven pieces sit against a softer layered silhouette, incorporating delicate French silk chiffon with prints by illustrator and long-time collaborator, Alec Strang. For this collection Lawlor has introduced a palette of blues and greens to sit against his classic muted tones, whilst intricate sculptural pieces are seamlessly combined with wearable separates."

Check out all of Derek's work at:

OnOff

In the wise words of Miss Dolly Parton: 'working 9-5, what a way to make a living'.

My job is rarely 9-5. I've never worn a suit, and I don't work in an office. Working in fashion has enabled me to be part of completely different projects, meet an array of interesting and talented people and has so far led me across the world to Miami, Rome and now....PARIS.

The changeable nature of the job means that new projects come and go in the blink of an eye- making scheduling incredibly difficult and spontaneous trips quite frequent! Apologies are due to all who have fallen victim to my last minute cancellations and disruptions of long-standing plans, but I wouldn't have it any other way- I'm sorry! I love not knowing where I will be working next. Every day is a new adventure.

At 9am this past Thursday I had been looking forward to a weekend of theatre, tattoos, family reunions and birthday celebrations. By 7pm I had tickets booked for the 6am Eurostar to Paris on Saturday.

So, here I am. I'm staying in an apartment on the Rue au Maire in the Marais district of Paris with my friend, the knitwear designer Derek Lawlor. I am helping Derek showcase his AW11 collection as part of the OnOff exhibition. I had never been to a showroom before and knew nothing about the requisite dress code, conduct or method of presentation.

This is what I have learnt so far...

Designers present their latest collection either in a solo showcase or as part of an exhibition. It is both the PR company and individual designer's responsibility to advertise themselves to prospective buyers, press and editors. When visitors arrive they nonchalantly breeze through the showroom looking at each designer's collection, feeling the fabrics, holding out the garments and, if they are interested, talking to the designers about their inspirations, ambitions and (hopefully) their sales plan. Lookbooks are distributed, business cards are taken and we smile politely whilst bracing ourselves internally with the fierce plea  that this one person be the beacon of hope we are searching for.









Wednesday 2 March 2011

NYC


 
 
 

Beautiful.

 

My pick of the top three gowns from this years Oscars. Cate Blanchett in Givenchy Couture, Mila Kunis in Ellie Saab and Jessica Biel in Atelier Versace. All three women show how to look effortlessly chic, glamorous and beautiful. The gowns are intricate, ethereal and exquisitely crafted. The design and colour of each dress isn't overpowering and the simple styling with flawlessly natural make-up and minimal jewellery allows each woman to exude their grace and personality without looking contrived or over thought out. This is red-carpet dressing at its best.

I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...

One of my earliest memories is of an object. A small, old, three-legged wooden stool which had at some point, years prior to my memory, been painted a shade of pastel blue which was then cracked and peeling. When I think of this stool, and its chipped paint,  I also think of the associated senses surrounding it: the warm, slightly sweet smell of fresh hay, the faint background noises of a light breeze carrying the sounds of a multitude of animals, and the taste of strong milky tea and hard, but crumbling, rock cakes.

This is the memory of my early childhood; the few years I spent, on alternate weekends, living on a dairy farm with my dad and grandparents.  These years, as I reflect on them, are a smorgasbord of, probably idealised, tableaux. Being woken in the semi-dark of dawn to help birth a calf (yes, that actually happened).  Falling through an unseen crevice in the maze-like hay barn which was my playground. Collecting eggs from the various nests surrounding our lake. Trying hard to climb over the iron railings of the milking shed which, at the time, seemed scarily imposing in comparison to my miniature, child's frame.

The one constant throughout these memories is a particular item of clothing: a jacket in a warm khaki shade of dark green, oversized on my small shoulders, with gold poppers down the front which I loved to click open and shut, much to the annoyance of my dad and brother.

Yes, I am talking about the Barbour wax jacket.

In my mind the Barbour is a nostalgic relic of a long since passed rural childhood. I never had my own, as I always used to throw on my dad's or my grandpa's as I ran out the door at 6am and simultaneously pulled on my mud stained wellies. A Barbour jacket was a practical item, utilitarian, a necessary piece of clothing for life on the farm where you were likely to get splattered by rain, mud, excrement and other substances. Everyone I encountered in those years (be they young, old, male or female) had their own variant of the wax jacket- always weathered, worn, soft and scarred after years of use. These were jackets that were like a second skin. They were homely and comforting.

The new breed of city slick 'on-trend' Barbour jackets is a strange modern hybrid which both confounds and amuses me. I recall seeing a girl in my class at Uni turn up to a seminar in the now ubiquitous navy, quilted version. I hadn't seen a Barbour for years, as long gone were the days of weekend visits and farm life. Seeing the jacket in this new urban environment was jarring and strange. I marvelled in the way the girl had styled it- throwing it on over dark jeggings, ankle boots and a tight cotton top. So sleek. So clean. Where was the mud?? At the time I brushed off the sight as a one-time experiment which looked strangely nice with the girl's sharp short bob. I never anticipated that such staple of country life would soon be seen on every other person on the morning commute.

It seems that the outbreak of Barbours happened almost over night. Suddenly, out of nowhere, quilted jackets, and the traditional khaki wax versions, were being worn over suits, over dresses, on the tube, at work and in bars. Barbours are now, dare I say it, cool. They are fashionable. There is even a limited edition flyweight beadnell jacket with Liberty print lining!

I'm not sure how this happened or how long it will last, but all I can conclude is that I suddenly feel like a little girl again; like I want to head outside and grab my dad's old Barbour- too big and heavy on my shoulders- from the coat rack as I leave. A little piece of nostalgia to keep me warm and be part of the crowd once more- not on the farm, but in the city...with the grown ups.