Tuesday, 18 June 2019

Gloria Vanderbilt dies at age 95





Gloria Vanderbilt, New York artist, model, heiress and socialite, dies at 95
Son Anderson Cooper says she lived life ‘on her own terms’

Obituary: Gloria Vanderbilt, 1924-2019
Victoria Bekiempis and agencies in New York
Mon 17 Jun 2019 18.29 BST First published on Mon 17 Jun 2019 15.42 BST

Gloria Vanderbilt, an American heiress who became a successful model, designer, writer and artist, has died, her son Anderson Cooper announced on Monday on CNN. She was 95.

 “Gloria Vanderbilt was an extraordinary woman who loved life and lived it on her own terms,” Cooper said. “She was a painter, a writer and designer but also a remarkable mother, wife and friend. She was 95 years old, but ask anyone close to her and they’d tell you she was the youngest person they knew – the coolest and most modern.”
  
Gloria Laura Morgan Vanderbilt was born on 24 February 1924 and lived a storied life from infancy. Her father was the renowned rake Reginald Vanderbilt, the great-grandson of the railroad magnate Cornelius Vanderbilt. Her mother, who married in her teens, was more of a party girl than an attentive parent.

When Gloria was 18 months old, her father died of cirrhosis of the liver, aged just 45. She received a $5m trust fund which her mother used to fund a lavish socialite lifestyle full of travel and affairs.

 I always feel that something wonderful is going to happen. And it always does
Gloria Vanderbilt
Gloria’s paternal aunt, the sculptor Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, founder of the Whitney Museum of American Art, ultimately sued for custody of the little girl, resulting in her becoming the most famous American child of her time. The 1934 trial in the case became a tabloid sensation trial that resulted in Gloria being called a “poor little rich girl” amid bitter family drama.

 “For five hours Mrs Gloria Morgan Vanderbilt … listened to a tight-lipped nurse denounce her with virtual relish as a cocktail-crazed dancing mother, a devotee of sex erotica and the mistress of a German prince … it was a blistering tale no skin lotion could soothe,” Town & Country reported.

The courtroom devolved into chaos when a French maid testified that “Mrs Vanderbilt was in bed reading a paper and there was [the royal] Lady Milford Haven beside the bed with her arm around Mrs Vanderbilt’s neck and kissing her just like a lover”.

The judge ejected the press. After seven weeks of testimony, he awarded custody to Whitney.

In 2016, Vanderbilt told the Associated Press the “poor little rich girl” moniker “bothered me enormously … I didn’t see any of the press, the newspapers were kept from me. I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t feel poor and I didn’t feel rich. It really did influence me enormously to make something of my life when I realized what it meant.”

Her foray into the world of fashion started at age 15 as a Harper’s Bazaar model and at 17, after spending seven years with the “rigid” Gertrude, she moved to Hollywood. Vanderbilt dated stars and vowed to marry the aviation and movie mogul Howard Hughes, but instead wed his press agent, Pasquale di Cicco. The marriage caused Whitney to write Gloria out of her will.

Gloria, who came into her trust at age 21, in 1945, wound up divorcing Di Cicco, claiming routine beatings. One day later she married a 63-year-old conductor, Leopold Stokowski. They had two sons and their marriage lasted a decade.

Her next two marriages were to the film director Sidney Lumet and the writer Wyatt Emory Cooper. Other romances included Frank Sinatra, whom she described as “kind of just the most amazing person in my life”, Errol Flynn and Marlon Brando.

“I’ve had many, many loves,” Vanderbilt told the Associated Press in 2004. “I always feel that something wonderful is going to happen. And it always does.”

Vanderbilt married Lumet in 1956 and lived with him and her children in a 10-room duplex penthouse on Gracie Square in New York. She divorced him to marry Cooper in 1963. Their elder son, Carter, a Princeton graduate and editor at American Heritage, killed himself in 1988 at age 23, leaping from his mother’s 14th-floor apartment as she tried to stop him.

Vanderbilt’s fame increased dramatically in the late 1970s, when she partnered with the clothing-maker Mohan Murjani to sell designer jeans that featured her name on the back pockets – a move that earned $10m in 1980, Bloomberg noted. After her success in designer jeans, Vanderbilt branched out into shoes, scarves, table and bed linens, designer fragrances and china, through her company, Gloria Concepts.

Her wide-ranging career also included art, as well as memoir and fiction writing. At 85 she wrote an erotic novel called Obsession which told the story of a woman becoming obsessed with her deceased husband’s relationship with a dominatrix. Excerpts leaked to a tabloid sent shockwaves through the New York elite.

The New York Post columnist Andrea Peyser described the 143-page book as “pure, elegant, unadulterated smut” that could be “easily read with one hand”. But Vanderbilt told the New York Times she wasn’t embarrassed at all.

“I don’t think age has anything to do with what you write about,” she said. “The only thing that would embarrass me is bad writing, and the only thing that really concerned me was my children. You know how children can be about their parents. But mine are very intelligent and supportive.”

Cooper was also unfazed.

“I’m often surprised by my mom but am always supportive of anything she does,” the CNN anchor said. “She’s totally unique and cool.”



Friday, 14 June 2019

Two times Cristopher Sykes ...


This Is My Half of the Castle: The Eccentric Living Arrangements of Aristocrats

Having a big house helps keep your problems hidden from the outside world: The Duke and Duchess of Norfolk occupied different wings of their stately home while separated.

Tom Sykes
Updated 04.13.17 3:07PM ET / Published 08.25.16 1:00AM ET

Photo Illustration by Sarah Rogers/The Daily Beast
Like many aristocratic couples of their generation, my paternal grandfather, the writer Christopher Sykes, and his wife, Camilla, née Russell, had separate bedrooms.

Camilla was a famous beauty in her youth and when I knew her, in her 70s, she still proudly asserted her right to look fabulous. Her room at their substantial house in a small Dorset village—where they had moved in 1952, having no further use for the city after the king died—was an Aladdin’s cave of jewelry, powders, perfume, pills, shoes, and foreign clothing piled high on elegant mother of pearl-inlaid tables and overflowing from lacquered chests of drawers.

She entertained visitors, including her husband, on an upholstered love seat, a sofa that resembled two armchairs joined together but facing each other, thereby forcing you to stare straight into her eyes when sitting on it.

Christopher, a writer who was famous for his love of what in 1980s England was still considered to be an eccentric French pastry, a mysterious thing called a croissant—vast quantities of which were bought at a specialist baker in London and frozen; not for nothing did we call him Fat Grandpa—had a separate bedroom lined with his beloved history books.

He would sometimes emerge from here in the evenings wearing a glamorous silk dressing gown. His own room was tidy and very, very male. He couldn’t have borne to be surrounded by Camilla’s fripperies. They both had separate dressing rooms as well.

The separate bedrooms were a simple acknowledgement of the fact that, although married, they liked their own space too.

However, I think even they would have drawn the line at the living arrangements of the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk, who have spent the past five years of their life living in separate wings of the 11th-century Arundel Castle after their relationship hit a rough patch. Georgina stayed in the more homey west wing, long the family home, while Edward decamped several hundred yards to the more Spartan east wing, which had been used to house staff in days gone by.

Happily, the duke has now moved back into the west wing, rejoining his wife—the queen, a close friend, is said by the Mail on Sunday to be “delighted” at the rapprochement—although after all those years of enjoying their own space, it would be a fair bet that they are still sleeping in separate bedrooms.

For the Norfolks, their dispersal around Arundel Castle was a way to live separate lives while avoiding the trauma of divorce, which they refused to consider for both practical and religious reasons. The Norfolks are among the most senior lay Catholics in the otherwise largely Protestant United Kingdom.

They nobly refused an invitation to the royal wedding of William and Kate, as they did not wish to hypocritically sit next to each other.

However, the banishment of one’s partner (or their own voluntary exile) to a dower house or distant section of the building is by no means a foible unique to the Northumberlands. It is a well-documented part of upper class British life.

A similar situation developed in the case of an Irish aristocrat I know. In this case the wife remained in the big house while the husband, who suffered from severe depression, moved into the gate lodge at the bottom of the drive.

“What are we supposed to do?” the châtelaine told me when explaining the developments a few years ago. “There’s no sense getting divorced, or there will be nothing left for the kids.”

She started an affair with a musician quite openly and encouraged her husband to do something similar. He did not, and has since died. Out of the tragedy, a glimmer of salvation is that the estate has been successfully preserved for her children.

The sheer size of most stately homes allows for troubled marriages to be given time and space to heal—or not heal—without outsiders being any the wiser.

And the tradition of separate bedrooms for the master and mistress of the house provides a useful cover behind which to hide marital breakdown. While not as completely standard as some reports suggest, separate rooms were certainly very common before World War II in any sizable house, even when the relationship was untroubled.

Marie Stopes, writing in 1918, advised provision of a single bed “in a nearby dressing room for when either of the partners desires solitude.”

The custom has even made its way into fiction: In Downton Abbey, occasional references are made to the fact that Lord Grantham has his own room, even though he usually sleeps in Cora’s bed.

The queen and Prince Philip observed the habit of sleeping in separate rooms—a fact that was only made public after an intruder broke into the queen’s bedroom in the most shocking security lapse at Buckingham Palace on record.

The break-in was said to have been facilitated by the fact that the queen insists on sleeping with the windows open—Philip prefers the windows closed, hence his desire for his own room.

Prince Charles and Camilla have separate bedrooms at Highgrove, Charles’s house, but Camilla goes one step further and has kept her own family house, which predates her marriage to Charles and to which Charles is not, as a rule, invited. It’s very much “her place,” say sources.

There is evidence that, as many of the middle classes now occupy houses of comparable size to small manor houses, they are starting to emulate this aristocratic habit. According to one survey, some 9 percent of married (or partnered) British couples now sleep in separate rooms. In Japan, the figure is 28 percent.


My grandparents would certainly have approved.


Christopher Hugh Sykes FRSL (17 November 1907 – 8 December 1986) was an English author. Born into a well-off northern English landowning family, he was the second son of the diplomat Sir Mark Sykes (1879–1919), and his wife, Edith (née Gorst). His sister was Angela Sykes, the sculptor. His uncle, also Christopher Sykes, was, for a time, a close friend of Edward VII.

Educated at Downside School and Christ Church, Oxford, Sykes was, for a time in his youth, in the Foreign Office, including a stint as an attaché (1928–29) in the British Embassy in Berlin, where Harold Nicolson was then Counsellor. This was followed by a year (1930–31) at the British Legation in Teheran. An early hero was Aubrey Herbert, remembered now as the man who inspired John Buchan's classic thriller, Greenmantle.

Though Sykes thought of making politics his career, his stammer and also his artistic and imaginative disposition indicated that political life was not for him. At the School of Oriental Studies in London, he devoted himself to Persian studies in 1933 before travelling in Central Asia during 1933–34 with Robert Byron, who later wrote The Road to Oxiana recounting their long expedition in what was then an almost unexplored country. In the book, Byron states that Sykes was given an order to leave Persia, but they could negotiate that he leaves via Afghanistan with Byron.

On their return to England, Sykes and Byron wrote a novel together under the name of Richard Waughburton, Innocence and Design, published in 1935. A little later, Sykes and Cyril Connolly planned a book with the title of The Little Voice. In common with other projects of Connolly's, the book never got beyond the planning stages. Sykes published in 1936 a biography of the German Persianist Wilhelm Wassmus; he did not, during later years, include this volume in his list of his publications. A memoir of Byron, killed at sea in 1941, was included in Sykes' best-selling book, Four Studies in Loyalty.

Sykes had an eventful war. Having held, like his famous father, a Territorial Army commission in The Green Howards in 1927–30, he was commissioned in 1939 as a reserve officer in the regiment's newly formed 7th Battalion. In June 1940, Sykes joined SO1 (later Special Operations Executive [SOE]), where he was personal assistant to Colonel Cudbert Thornhill. In October 1941, Sykes was sent out to Tehran as Deputy Director of Special Propaganda (DDSP) under diplomatic cover (Second Secretary at the British Legation) in the aftermath of the Anglo-Soviet invasion of Iran, where he remained until November 1942, when he was transferred to Cairo. Out of a job because his department had been wound up, Sykes found time to write a light novel, High Minded Murder (1944), something of a roman à clef, set in wartime Cairo where Graham Greene's sister Elizabeth was living(Sykes mentions Greene himself in his biography of Waugh). Meanwhile, after failing to find any position as an intelligence officer in the Middle East, Sykes returned to the UK in May 1943, volunteered for the Special Air Service (SAS), and was posted to the Commando Training Depot at Achnacarry Castle, Invernesshire on 1 July 1943. As an SAS officer, Sykes, who spoke fluent French but could not pass as a native, undertook extremely hazardous work with the French Resistance: an experience which, like his friendship with Byron, was depicted in Four Studies in Loyalty (dedicated to the town of Vosges), this time in that book's last chapter.



Nowadays Sykes is especially remembered for his biography of his friend Evelyn Waugh, whom he met after the success of Waugh's Vile Bodies. He introduced Waugh to the socialite Diana Cooper, aka Lady Stitch. He praised Brideshead, Waugh's Catholic epic (the two were both Catholics, but with the notable difference—mentioned by Waugh's son Auberon when reviewing Sykes's book in the November 1975 issue of Books and Bookmen – that whereas Waugh converted to Roman Catholicism in his twenties, Sykes was a cradle Catholic) though admitting to his dislike of the character Julia Flyte. Sykes makes some interesting comparisons between scenes in Waugh's books and those of William M Thackeray - the fox hunting scene in a Handful of Dust is compared to that in Barry Lyndon.

Sykes is also remembered to a lesser extent, for his history of the British Mandate of Palestine, Crossroads to Israel (1965). He also wrote several books of fiction and lives of Orde Wingate (published 1959 - Sykes drew attention to Wingate as the possible basis for Waugh's character Brigadier Ritchie Hook in The Sword of Honour trilogy, in his biography of Waugh) the general sometimes known as the "Lawrence of Judea" (a phrase that Wingate deplored); Lady Astor, who, born in Virginia, was one of the first women to sit in the House of Commons of the United Kingdom; and Adam von Trott zu Solz, executed following his part in the failed 20 July plot to assassinate Hitler.

After 1945 Sykes worked for many years in BBC Radio, where he helped to get Waugh's broadcast on P G Wodehouse, who was captured in Le Touquet by the Germnas, on air, as well as writing for several British and American periodicals, including The New Republic, The Spectator, Books and Bookmen, The Observer and the short-lived English Review Magazine. He was invested as a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature.[citation needed]

Marriage and family
He married Camilla Georgiana, daughter of Sir Thomas Wentworth Russell (great-grandson of the 6th Duke of Bedford)[4] on 25 October 1936.Their son, Mark Richard Sykes (born 9 June 1937), by his second marriage, is father to six children including New York-based fashion writer and novelist Plum Sykes. The writer and photographer, Christopher Simon Sykes, is a nephew.[citation needed] Writer/journalist Tom Sykes is a grandson.





Christopher Simon Skyes
In 1975, Christopher Simon Sykes received a phone call from Mick Jagger, a personal friend, inviting him to document the Rolling Stones on their upcoming 40-show Tour Of The Americas ’75, a.k.a T.OT.A. ‘75 . According to Sykes, “’I had absolutely free and total access. I was in a very privileged position because I’d come to keep a diary, I’d been recommended by Rupert Lowenstein and I knew Mick. I was more of a friend than a rock photographer.” Sykes dove head first into the assignment by photographing every aspect of the tour, keeping a daily diary, even collecting memorabilia such as backstage passes, the tour manager’s newsletters, even hotel keys. The resulting photographs are an insider’s view of the grueling and infamously decadent life on the road for ‘The Greatest Rock ‘n Roll Band in the World’.
The tour proved just as exhausting for Sykes as it did for the Stones. Returning to England, Sykes shifted his focus to what has become a lifelong project: photographing the UK’s great country homes and gardens, including his own family estate, Sledmere House. Sykes is a regular contributor to House & Garden, World of Interiors, Vogue and author of several noteworthy books.





Sledmere House is a Grade I listed Georgian country house, containing Chippendale, Sheraton and French furnishings and many fine pictures, set within a park designed by Capability Brown.

Wednesday, 12 June 2019

An Enquiring Mind: Manolo Blahník at the Wallace Collection / 10 June – 1 September 2019






10 June – 1 September 2019
Free entry
In June 2019, the Wallace Collection and Manolo Blahník will present An Enquiring Mind: Manolo Blahník at the Wallace Collection. The exhibition features a personally selected edit of shoe designs from Blahník’s private archives set amongst the masterpieces of the Wallace Collection. This exciting venture juxtaposes an icon from the world of contemporary fashion with Wallace’s outstanding collection that has been an inspiration to artists since it opened to the public in 1900.

A rare opportunity to see excellence in contemporary design alongside the exceptional quality of the Wallace Collection’s own art works. 

Partnership between Manolo Blahník and the Wallace Collection

Free - no need to book!
Manolo Blahník Talk Series
The exhibition will be accompanied by an exciting programme of evening panel discussions.
– Monday 17 June – Goya and Shoes - SOLD OUT!
– Monday 1 July – The Classical Influence in Art and Design - SOLD OUT!
– Monday 8 July – Fashion or Art?
– Tuesday 9 July – Fashion and Power
– Wednesday 10 July – The Collector
– Monday 15 July – The Interior World








Tuesday, 11 June 2019

Getting Dressed in the 18th Century - Men




Overview
Throughout the period, men continued to wear the coat, waistcoat and breeches of the previous period. However, changes were seen in both the fabric used as well as the cut of these garments. More attention was paid to individual pieces of the suit, and each element underwent stylistic changes. Under new enthusiasms for outdoor sports and country pursuits, the elaborately embroidered silks and velvets characteristic of "full dress" or formal attire earlier in the century gradually gave way to carefully tailored woollen "undress" garments for all occasions except the most formal. This more casual style reflected the dominating image of "nonchalance." The goal was to look as fashionable as possible with seemingly little effort. This was to be the new, predominant mindset of fashion.



Coats
The skirts of the coat narrowed from the gored styles of the previous period. Waistcoats extended to mid-thigh to the 1770s and then began to shorten. Waistcoats could be made with or without sleeves.

As in the previous period, a loose, T-shaped silk, cotton or linen gown called a banyan was worn at home as a sort of dressing gown over the shirt, waistcoat, and breeches. Men of an intellectual or philosophical bent were painted wearing banyans, with their own hair or a soft cap rather than a wig.

A coat with a wide collar called a frock coat, derived from a traditional working-class coat, was worn for hunting and other country pursuits in both Britain and America.

Shirt and stock
Shirt sleeves were full, gathered at the wrist and dropped shoulder. Full-dress shirts had ruffles of fine fabric or lace, while undress shirts ended in plain wrist bands.[2]

Breeches, shoes, and stockings
Knee-length breeches fitted snugly and had a fall-front opening.

Low-heeled leather shoes fastened with buckles were worn with silk or woollen stockings. Boots were worn for riding. The buckles were either polished metal, usually in silver—sometimes with the metal cut into false stones in the Paris style—or with paste stones, although there were other types. These buckles were often quite large and one of the world's largest collections can be seen at Kenwood House.

Hairstyles and headgear
Wigs were worn for formal occasions, or the hair was worn long and powdered, brushed back from the forehead and "clubbed" (tied back at the nape of the neck) with a black ribbon. Wigs were generally now short, but long wigs continued to be popular with the older generation. Wigs were made with a lot of white powder.

Wide-brimmed hats turned up on three sides called "cocked hats"—called tricorns in later eras—were worn in mid-century.




The macaroni
The trend of the macaroni grew out of the tradition of those who partook of the Grand Tour. Elite men in the 18th century would travel abroad across Europe, namely Italy, to broaden their cultural depth. These men adopted foreign fashions and tastes and brought them back to England where they interpreted them further. The original macaroni of the 1760s was characterized by elaborate dress consisting of short and tight trousers, large wigs, delicate shoes and small hats. As the general population of English males became exposed to the luxurious appeal of the macaroni trend, they began to adopt and replicate the trends they saw. By the 1770s, any man could appear as if they themselves had been on the Grand Tour-based solely on their outward appearance.

The macaroni and the subsequent imitators were criticized for being gender ambiguous and effeminate. Frequently, the macaroni fashion trend was the subject of satirical caricatures and pamphlets. Their large costume like wigs and short coats, which deeply contrasted the masculine British dress of the time, were ridiculed for their frivolity and were said to be threatening the stability of gender difference, thereby undermining the nation's reputation. The question of farce and inauthenticity comes into play as well because by dressing as a macaroni, one claimed the status and the means of an elite who went on the Grand Tour.

Although many mocked the macaroni for their outwardly eccentric characteristics, some celebrated them for their commitment to the demonstration of personal identity. The idea of a unique character was becoming an important concept that spanned many types of media including books and prints as Britain wanted to distinguish itself from France.

Saturday, 8 June 2019

GANT | Heritage | Changing the course of American Fashion








In 2019, GANT is celebrating 70 years as a premium preppy American Sportswear brand. From creating superior quality shirts in 1949 to building a full wardrobe of American Sportswear icons over the past seven decades, GANT has evolved into becoming one of the most influential brands within its field. Embarking on this anniversary year, the brand is celebrating its heritage by honoring the sportswear icons and paying tribute to its curious culture, defined by the credo Never Stop Learning.

The curious mindset is an integral part of GANT’s DNA, and leads all the way back to the company’s founding 70 years ago on the American East Coast universities. Over the past seven decades, the brand has driven product innovation by reinventing, refining and perfecting the American Sportswear icons. The Button-Down Shirt, the Club Blazer, the Chino Pant, the Piqué, the Heavy Rugger, the GANT Varsity Jacket, and the Cable Knit have all been crucial building blocks in the brand’s 70-year long success story. Introduced on the American East Coast, these icons have been polished into more sophisticated versions of themselves through their adoption into Europe.

From 7th until 14th of each month February, March, April, May, August, September and October they will offer double points on their loyalty program for each icon product bought.

Seven Decades Seven Icons is released globally on 7th February as part of a year-long celebration.


GANT - Seven Decades Seven Icons

Thursday, 6 June 2019

Roald Dahl: Boy







Boy: Tales of Childhood by Roald Dahl - review
'Roald Dahl is a man whose stories were crafted with pure genius and that special touch of zaniness that very few are blessed to have'

pinkbookworm
Mon 7 Oct 2013 09.00 BST First published on Mon 7 Oct 2013 09.00 BST

A born storyteller is always born with an interesting story. A phenomenally successful author all over the globe, Roald Dahl is a man whose stories were crafted with pure genius and that special touch of zaniness that very few are blessed to have.

Boy is the first part of an autobiographical series written by Roald Dahl himself and it tells the tale of the beginnings of one of the greatest children's writers the world has seen.

Boy narrates the story of Dahl's childhood. Starting from the unfortunate incident of how his Norwegian Papa, Harold Dahl lost his arm and moving on to a hilarious account of how much he hated his first boarding school Llandalf Cathedral.


Personally, my favorite chapter involves the incident with the dead mice and a sweet shop and each chapter goes on to describe how Dahl grew up in a world of tuck boxes, strict headmasters and of course lots of sisters and brothers. This including a rather annoying brother in law as well.

The book also has those few extra treats tucked inbetween the pages, like how Dahl's childhood affair with Cadbury's inspired him to write Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Quentin Blake's black and white illustrations peppered here and there.

Roald Dahl is one of those people who can turn something as boring as mice into something scandalous and eerily fabulous. Almost every chapter written in Boy describes a fairly ordinary event in a young boy's life made extraordinary with that little bit of Dahl magic.

The author and the book speak for themselves. It isn't sophisticated or classy, but it's a Dahl autobiography, which makes anyone who turns their nose up at it a right twit.



Roald Dahl interview and short film - Pebble Mill at One 1982

Tuesday, 4 June 2019

Remembering ... RALPH LAUREN | The 50th Anniversary Show





Ralph Lauren’s 50th Anniversary Show Was Eye-Popping. Then Came the Clothes.
Hillary Clinton, Oprah Winfrey and a star-studded crowd came to celebrate the designer’s 50-year career.

By Vanessa Friedman
Sept. 8, 2018

Hillary Clinton was there, in periwinkle silk, bodyguards in tow. So was Oprah Winfrey, glittering stones in her hair. So was almost the entire American fashion establishment, old (Calvin Klein, Donna Karan, Carolina Herrera, Diane von Furstenberg) and new (Kanye). So was Spielberg. So was Schwarzman.

Movie stars and power brokers rained down, but not the rain itself, though all day storm-gray clouds had lain low overhead. Even nature, it seemed, had decided to pay homage to Ralph Lauren and his 50 years of fashion on Friday night.

And the celebration turned Central Park — and more specifically Bethesda Terrace, the graceful arched circular promenade at the heart of the park — into a space that seems increasingly elusive in the current public discourse: a cynicism-free zone. A candlelit argument for the restoring balm of, as Ms. Winfrey noted in a toast to the designer, “bedazzlement.”

It is, after all, the core belief of Mr. Lauren’s career. For half a century, amid an industry that places a premium on cool and edge, he has held fast to a different ideal.

 “I make documentary features about America — he makes dreams about it,” said Ken Burns, the filmmaker, who has known Mr. Lauren since 1993 when they met in Telluride and who was attending his first show (wearing Ralph Lauren, like many of the guests). Such was the night itself, layered in Mr. Lauren’s mythmaking.

It began on the verdant edge of 72nd Street and the park, one block up from the limestone mansion Mr. Lauren built across from the Rhinelander Mansion he already owned — retail in the guise of empire. Old-fashioned street trolleys with wooden slatted seats ferried guests into the core of the park, where 17 looming LED screens played a video loop of collections past, and waiters in custom-made Ralph Lauren looks passed cocktail franks and mini pastrami sandwiches and crab cakes with the Champagne.

Below, the arcade under the overpass had been divided into a runway and covered with overlapping magic carpets, Persian and otherwise, and once the 500 or so guests had finally been ferried to their seats below the Minton tiled ceiling — once Anne Hathaway had stopped schmoozing with Tom Hiddleston, and everyone had congratulated Thom Browne on selling his company to Ermenegildo Zegna — models began to descend the sweeping staircase in pairs. “New York Is My Home” played as they walked.

There were men and women, old and young, outfitted in Mr. Lauren’s favorite reference points: the leathers and Buffalo plaids and hardware of the American West; the micro-sequined flapper frocks and laces of Gatsby’s Eggs (East and West); the tweeds of Brideshead and the pinstripes of prohibition; paisleys and collegiate stripes and collarbone-sweeping earrings. All of it mixed together in a signature stew.

Later, an entire community of models from babies to grandparents appeared in pieces from the Polo collection, a pointed (if unspoken) ode to diversity and inclusion, in clothes as in life.

There were more than 100 looks in all, but it was the haute patchwork gowns collaged together from scraps of tapestry brocade and velvet, dripping silk fringes at the seams, that summed it up best: a career as a collage of what once caught our collective imagination, refined over seasons.

A look from across the New York Times at the forces that shape the dress codes we share, with Vanessa Friedman as your personal shopper.

Mr. Lauren’s work, and his pet themes, have often been seen, including by me, as escapist: fantasies of the past indulged and made accessible; sacrificing urgency for smoothed-over aesthetics.

But what this show suggested, as Ms. Winfrey pointed out later in her toast, before the tomato salad and burrata arrived, before the steak from Mr. Lauren’s RRL ranch, before she had to hop in her car to go back to Teterboro, was that it can be a political move to strive to make the world, even its clichés, more beautiful. That, as she said, it’s “not just about fashion.”

“You care about family,” she said, looking down at the designer, who was clad in his trademark tuxedo jacket, faded jeans and somewhat beat-up cowboy boots. “You care about freedom. You care about integrity. Integrity — a word we need more of.”


Ironically, for a designer who never had much truck with irony, life itself has suddenly caught up to Mr. Lauren, casting his clothes and what they represent in a new light. Even if the night itself seemed somewhat unreal, even if it felt like nothing so much as the gorgeously designed end of an era. Ask not for whom the trolley bell tolls. It tolls for thee.





Saturday, 1 June 2019

Elton John: 'They wanted to tone down the sex and drugs. But I haven’t led a PG-13 life' / VIDEO: (2019) - Official Trailer - Paramount Pictures




Elton John: 'They wanted to tone down the sex and drugs. But I haven’t led a PG-13 life'
The Observer
Elton John
In this exclusive article, Elton John writes about his extraordinary life and why he finally decided to give the Rocketman biopic the green light



Elton John
Sun 26 May 2019 08.00 BST

I was in the cinema for about 15 minutes before I started crying. Not crying as in the occasional tear quietly trickling down my cheek: really sobbing, in that loud, unguarded, emotionally destroyed way that makes people turn around and look at you with alarmed expressions. I was watching my family – my mum and dad, my nan – in my nan’s old council house in Pinner Hill Road in the late 1950s, singing I Want Love, a song Bernie Taupin and I had written in 2001. I knew it was in the film, but I didn’t know how they were going to use it. Up until that point, I’d kept a discrete distance from the actual process of making a movie about my life. I gave some suggestions, saw a few daily rushes, said yay or nay to some important decisions and met two or three times with Taron Egerton, who plays me. But otherwise I’d kept well away from Rocketman, letting my husband David [Furnish]be my eyes and ears on set every day. I figured it would be uncomfortable for everyone to have the person the film was about lurking around.

So I wasn’t prepared for the power of what I was seeing. I Want Love is a song Bernie wrote, I think, about himself: a middle-aged man with a few divorces, wondering if he’s ever going to fall in love again. But it fitted life in Pinner Hill Road perfectly. I suppose my mum and dad must have been in love once, but there wasn’t much sign they ever had been by the time I came along. They gave every impression of hating each other. My dad was strict and remote and had a terrible temper; my mum was argumentative and prone to dark moods. When they were together, all I can remember are icy silences or screaming rows. The rows were usually about me, how I was being brought up.


My dad was in the RAF so he was away from home a lot, and when he got back, he tried to impose new rules about everything: how I ate, how I dressed. That would set Mum off. I got the feeling they were staying together because of me, which just made things more miserable. The best way to escape it was to shut myself in my bedroom with my record collection and my comics, and drift off into an imaginary world, fantasising that I was Little Richard or Ray Charles or Jerry Lee Lewis. I made my peace with it all years ago. They divorced when I was 13, both remarried, which I was happy about, although my relationship with both of them was always tricky. I was closer to Mum than Dad, but there were long periods when we didn’t speak. And my childhood is one thing I’m still sensitive about.

Even if I hadn’t been, the whole experience of watching someone else pretend to be you on screen, of seeing things you remember happening again in front of your eyes, is a very weird, disconcerting one, like having an incredibly vivid dream. And the story of how I ended up in a cinema, crying my eyes out at the sight of my family 60 years ago, is a long and convoluted one. And it begins, naturally enough, with a naked transgender woman with sparks flying out of her vagina.

The trans woman was Amanda Lepore, a model, singer and performance artist. She had sparks flying out of her vagina because she was starring in one of a series of films by David LaChapelle I’d commissioned for my show in Las Vegas, The Red Piano in 2004. That was his interpretation of the lyrics of Someone Saved My Life Tonight, a song Bernie and I had written about our pre-fame years, living in a flat in north London with a woman I’d foolishly got engaged to when I was still very confused about my sexuality.

An actor was dressed as me in full 70s stage outfit sticking his head in a gas oven, homoerotic angels figure-skating with giant teddy bears and Amanda Lepore, naked, in an electric chair, with sparks flying out of her vagina. I loved it: I’d said all along I didn’t want a standard Vegas show, and no one was ever going to be able to call The Red Piano that.

But it also got me thinking. David LaChapelle’s films were based, very loosely, on my life. I really had staged a completely ridiculous suicide bid that involved sticking my head in a gas oven. Rather than tell my fiancée I’d made a mistake, that was my brilliant plan to try and get out of the wedding. If you were going to make a film about me, that would be the way to do it. Nevertheless, the idea of making a film about my life still seemed like a big IF. For one thing, I’ve been very successful writing songs and soundtracks for films, but I’ve never been very comfortable with seeing myself on a big screen.

Amazingly, the director Hal Ashby offered me the male lead in Harold and Maude in 1971, but I turned it down: I loved the script, but it seemed like the wrong thing to do at the time. I’ve played myself in a couple of films, none of them exactly Oscar winners: Spice World and a Disney thing called The Country Bears. I suppose my one famous film role was in Tommy, although it didn’t really involve acting, just trying not to fall over while wearing a pair of 4½ft Doc Martens. I initially turned that down, too. They contacted Rod Stewart and I told him to turn it down as well. “I wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole, dear.” Then Pete Townshend from the Who rang me and I felt like I couldn’t say no. Rod was absolutely furious: “You bitch! You did that on purpose!” I’ve obviously spent a significant proportion of my life deliberately trying to annoy Rod Stewart – that’s very much the nature of our friendship – but that time it was completely accidental.

I’ve never been very interested in looking back at my career. It happened, I’m incredibly grateful, but I’m more interested in what I’m doing next rather than what I did 40 years ago. But that began to change a little the older I got, and I really started to approach things in a different way when I had children. I was 63 when our first son, Zachary, was born, 65 when Elijah came along – and I did start thinking about them in 40 years’ time, being able to see or read my version of my life. I became less conscious about keeping it all to myself. I liked the idea of them having a film and an autobiography, where I was honest.

 In some film scenes I’m disgusting and awful. But at my worst, I was

So when I decided I did want to go ahead with a film, we commissioned a script from Lee Hall, who I’d worked with on the stage musical of Billy Elliot. It was brilliant. It had moments that were pure fantasy and moments that were really hard-hitting, no punches pulled, like Tantrums and Tiaras, the documentary my husband David made about me not long after we met. Lots of people told me I was insane to allow that documentary to be released, but I loved it, because it was truthful. There are moments in it – and moments in the film – where I’m completely disgusting and awful, but then, at my worst, I was disgusting and awful, and there’s no reason to pretend otherwise.

But actually making the thing took years. Directors came and went – David LaChapelle was going to do it, but then he decided to focus on his fine art career – before the producer Matthew Vaughn, who I’d met when I had a cameo role in Kingsman: The Golden Circle, suggested Dexter Fletcher. So did lead actors: Justin Timberlake and Tom Hardy were both in the frame before Taron came along. Some studios wanted to tone down the sex and drugs so the film would get a PG-13 rating. But I just haven’t led a PG-13 rated life. I didn’t want a film packed with drugs and sex, but equally, everyone knows I had quite a lot of both during the 70s and 80s, so there didn’t seem to be much point in making a movie that implied that after every gig, I’d quietly gone back to my hotel room with only a glass of warm milk and the Gideon’s Bible for company.

And some studios wanted us to lose the fantasy element and make a more straightforward biopic, but that was missing the point. Like I said, I lived in my own head a lot as a kid. And when my career took off, it took off in such a way that it almost didn’t seem real to me. I wasn’t an overnight success by any means – I’d been slogging around the clubs, making records, writing songs with Bernie and trying to sell them to people who weren’t interested for four or five years before anything big happened. But when it happened, it went off like a missile: there’s a moment in Rocketman when I’m playing onstage in the Troubadour club in LA and everything in the room starts levitating, me included, and honestly, that’s what it felt like.

I left England in August 1970 more or less unknown. Me and Bernie were so broke, we were sleeping in bunk beds in my mum and stepdad’s spare room. I was making ends meet working as a session musician, playing on anyone’s records. I’d had a little bit of press and a few plays on John Peel for my second album, Elton John – enough that I didn’t see the point of going to perform in America, where literally no one knew who I was. But I came back from the States a month later with American critics calling me the saviour of rock’n’roll. Artists who were just mythic names on the back of album sleeves to me, people I absolutely worshipped, were suddenly turning up in the dressing room to tell me and Bernie they loved what we were doing: Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, Leon Russell, the Band, Bob Dylan. I’d also lost my virginity, to a man – John Reid, who later became my manager – and come out as gay, at least to my friends and family. This all happened in the space of three weeks. To say it was a lot to take in is a terrible understatement.

 ‘I came back from the States with American critics calling me the saviour of rock ’n’ roll’: John with his mother Sheila and stepfather Fred Fairebrother at their apartment, London 1971.

Understandably, Bernie and I had no idea what the hell was going on – you know, I hadn’t even wanted to be a rock star in the first place, I just wanted to be a successful songwriter – but it just got bigger and bigger over the next few years. I kept a diary the whole time, and it’s inadvertently hilarious. I wrote everything down in this matter-of-fact way, which ends up making it seem even more preposterous: “Woke up, watched Grandstand. Wrote Candle in the Wind. Went to London, bought Rolls-Royce. Ringo Starr came for dinner.”

I suppose I was trying to normalise what was happening, but the fact was, what was happening to me wasn’t normal. I’m not complaining at all, but there was no way you could prepare yourself for it. I don’t think any human being is psychologically built to cope with all that stuff happening to you that quickly, let alone me, with all my neuroses going back to my childhood.

 It took a Herculean effort to get noticed for taking too much cocaine in 70s LA, but I was prepared to put the hours in

In a way, it’s a miracle I didn’t go off the rails before I did. It took three or four years – and my discovery of cocaine – before things started getting out of hand, maybe because I was working so hard that I didn’t have too much time to think about it. I was always on tour or making a new album. Of course, when I did go off the rails, that happened like a missile as well.

It’s strange, I don’t find it painful to watch those parts of the film. They’re truthful and, unlike my childhood, it was my own fault. No one forced me to do drugs and drink. In fact, more than a few people tried to warn me I was out of control. It took a fairly Herculean effort to get yourself noticed for taking too much cocaine in the music industry of 1970s LA, but I was clearly prepared to put the hours in.

I gave my diaries to Taron to read when he took on the lead role in the film. He came to my house, we had a takeaway curry and chatted, and I let him see them. I knew Taron was the right man when I heard him sing Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me. I thought it was really important that whoever played me didn’t lip-sync, I wanted them to actually sing the songs, and Taron had already sung I’m Still Standing brilliantly in the animated film Sing.

But Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me is a really hard song for a vocalist. I know, because I struggled with it myself. When I tried to record it in 1974, the session went incredibly badly: I just couldn’t get it right. Demonstrating my legendary composure and breezy good humour in the face of a crisis, I ended up threatening to strangle my producer Gus Dudgeon with my bare hands, then announced that the song was so terrible that I was never going to release it, and instead was going to give it to Engelbert Humperdinck. Taron, on the other hand, just sang it: no threats of murder, no mention of dear old Engelbert.

His singing really astounded me. He isn’t doing an impersonation of me, he doesn’t look uncannily like me – although they shaved his head and thinned out his hair to make it look like mine in the 70s, which he hated. Welcome to my world, baby – at least yours will grow back. But he’s like me, he’s captured something of me, just as Richard Madden’s got something of John Reid and Jamie Bell’s got something of Bernie.

Jamie and Taron have even managed to capture my relationship with Bernie, which is frankly a miracle, because I really have no idea how that works. We were thrown together at random. I had failed an audition for Liberty Records in 1967, and a guy from the label gave me an envelope with his lyrics in it as an afterthought, like a consolation prize. I’m not sure he had even opened the envelope and read the lyrics himself before he did it: I think he just felt sorry for me and didn’t want me to go away empty handed.

We were very close right at the start of our career together, but we’re completely different people. He comes from the wilds of Lincolnshire, I come from the suburbs of London. He lives in Santa Barbara and he’s literally won competitions for roping cattle. I collect antique porcelain and the only way you’d get me on the back of a horse is at gunpoint. Neither of us can write if the other is in the room. But there’s a weird bond between us that I felt the minute I opened the envelope – I could just write music to his words straight away, without even thinking about it – and it’s lasted over 50 years.

We’ve had arguments – you don’t want to get him started on the subject of some of my more outlandish stage costumes, or indeed the subject of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, a song he’s loathed from the minute it was finished and continues to loathe to this day – but we’ve never fallen out, despite all the ridiculous crap we’ve been through.

Outside of my husband and children, it’s the most important relationship in my life, we really love each other and the film captures that. There’s a scene in Rocketman where he comes to visit me in rehab, and that started me sobbing again. It happened just the same way in real life. Bernie was one of the people who tried to tell me to stop doing drugs. I wouldn’t listen until years later, but he stuck by me, he never gave up on me, and he was so relieved and happy when I finally got help.

He was apprehensive about the film. He read the script and he didn’t like the fantasy aspects of it. “But that didn’t happen, that’s not true” – very Bernie. Then he saw it and completely got it. I don’t think he actually burst into tears, but he was incredibly moved by it. He understood the point of it, which was to make something that was like my life: chaotic, funny, mad, horrible, brilliant and dark. It’s obviously not all true, but it’s the truth.

Rocketman is in cinemas now

Thursday, 30 May 2019

Remembering A Very British Country House, Channel 4 / VIDEO:TRAILER | A Very British Country House | Sunday 9pm





A Very British Country House, Channel 4, review: a fun peep behind the five-star curtain
Channel 4's latest fly-on-the-wall doc shows that life behind the scenes at a posh hotel is as frantic as a kebab shop on Friday night





Jeff Robson
Sunday November 25th 2018

A Very British Country House
Sunday, Channel 4, 9pm
★★★★

If you’ve ever stayed at a posh hotel and felt that the staff didn’t think you were quite good enough to be sullying the opulent surroundings, The Great British Country House, Channel 4’s latest fly-on-the-wall documentary series should reassure you that they’re only human too – and that behind the scenes it’s as frantic as a kebab shop at Friday night closing time.

The Buckinghamshire hotel Cliveden House hit the headlines when Meghan Markle chose to stay there the night before her wedding. And for royal-watchers the first episode had the build-up to her arrival in the opening scenes. But you’ll be unsurprised to hear there was only a fleeting glimpse as she strode up the red carpet, and no revelations about blocked toilet emergencies or minibar vodkas topped up with tap water.

Instead the main focus was one the day-to-day running of the place – if there can be anything day-to-day about maintaining a three-hundred-year old ex-stately home and maintaining the standards of an establishment which has seen the likes of Winston Churchill and Charlie Chaplin arrive for a night’s kip and a full English and now caters to everyone from the aristocracy to Russian oligarchs.

Critical Eye
The royal accolade turned out to be something of a double-edged sword as the publicity resulted in a rush of bookings, but an even more critical eye cast on the service from guests who noticed everything from a touch of limescale in a kettle to a lack of crisps (only olives, I’m afraid) with the terrace Champagne.

 General manager Kevin told the quarterly staff meeting that the TripAdvisor average, that great democratic leveller, was down from 4.5 to 4. So it was even more important to keep pulling out all the stops. This meant giving blogger couple Katie and Ben the full VIP treatment, including a £27 menu for Pepe their Pomeranian.

TV naturals
Dogs generally were one of the few things that head butler Michael didn’t take completely in his stride (“anything below knee level’s fine… but I had a bad experience with an Airedale once”). Otherwise he was as unflappable as you’d expect a 25-year veteran to be, the benevolent sergeant-major of the staff.

There were several other TV naturals among them, principally wedding organiser Lydia, who’d wanted to work at Cliveden since seeing it as a seven-year-old bridesmaid and now had her dream job,despite some demanding requests (“someone asked for a road to be built through the garden for her horse and carriage”)  and conference/banqueting head Lyndsey (“I could trip over air growing up; when I told mum I was going to be a silver service waitress…”) .

Utterly down to earth and scarily efficient, they ensured that the nuptials of TV executive Andy and his boyfriend Garfield (“when I was growing up this was against the law… I wanted to make the day special for everyone”) were as much a feelgood treat for viewers as the royal do down the road. Altogether, a very good example of the genre. Though after watching it you may never again be satisfied with an off-peak deal at a local Travelodge…



Tuesday, 28 May 2019

Downton Abbey The Movie The film is scheduled for a UK release on 13 September 2019, with the US following one week later on 20 September 2019. / ABBEY The Movie Official Trailer (2019) Drama Movie HD




Downton Abbey (film)
Directed by        Michael Engler
Produced by     
Julian Fellowes
Gareth Neame
Liz Trubridge
Screenplay by    Julian Fellowes
Based on             Downton Abbey
by Julian Fellowes
Starring
Hugh Bonneville
Jim Carter
Michelle Dockery
Elizabeth McGovern
Maggie Smith
Imelda Staunton
Penelope Wilton
Music by             John Lunn
Cinematography              Ben Smithard
Edited by            Mark Day
Production
company
Carnival Films
Distributed by   Focus Features
Release date
13 September 2019 (United Kingdom)
Downton Abbey is a British historical period drama film, written by Julian Fellowes and directed by Michael Engler. It is a continuation of the television series of the same name, created by Fellowes, that ran on ITV from 2010 to 2015.

The film is set in 1927, and features a visit to Downton Abbey by King George V and Queen Mary. It was scheduled to open in theatres on 13 September 2019 in the UK and on 20 September 2019 in North America.

Cast
Hugh Bonneville as Robert Crawley, 7th Earl of Grantham
Laura Carmichael as Edith Pelham, Marchioness of Hexham
Jim Carter as Charles Carson
Raquel Cassidy as Phyllis Baxter
Brendan Coyle as John Bates
Michelle Dockery as Lady Mary Talbot
Kevin Doyle as Joseph Molesley
Michael C. Fox as Andrew "Andy" Parker
Joanne Froggatt as Anna Bates
Matthew Goode as Henry Talbot
Harry Hadden-Paton as Herbert Pelham, 7th Marquess of Hexham
Rob James-Collier as Thomas Barrow
Allen Leech as Tom Branson
Phyllis Logan as Elsie Hughes
Elizabeth McGovern as Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham
Sophie McShera as Daisy Mason
Lesley Nicol as Beryl Patmore
Douglas Reith as Richard Grey, Baron Merton
Maggie Smith as Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham
Penelope Wilton as Isobel Grey, Baroness Merton
New cast members
Max Brown
David Haig as The Royal Butler
Geraldine James as Queen Mary
Simon Jones as King George V
Tuppence Middleton as Lucy
Stephen Campbell Moore
Kate Phillips as Mary, Princess Royal and Countess of Harewood
Imelda Staunton as Lady Bagshaw
Production

Development
The film is a follow-up to the television series of the same name, which ended its original run in December 2015 after 52 episodes,  and is set around 18 months after the TV finale. [4] In April 2016, it was revealed that a film adaptation was being considered,  with Julian Fellowes working on an outline plot. A script was distributed to original cast members early in 2017.

On 13 July 2018, the producers confirmed that a feature-length film would be made, with production[9] commencing mid-2018. The script was written by Fellowes, with direction expected to be by Brian Percival; producers include Fellowes, Gareth Neame and Liz Trubridge. The film will be distributed by Focus Features and Universal Pictures International.

In late August 2018, it was reported that Percival had stepped down as director and Michael Engler took on this job. Percival, in addition to Nigel Marchant, would be an executive producer.

Casting
Original cast members including Hugh Bonneville, Elizabeth McGovern, Michelle Dockery, Laura Carmichael and Maggie Smith, were confirmed to return as their characters from the series, with Joanne Froggatt confirming her involvement in a separate announcement. Actress Lily James, who played Lady Rose MacClare, stated she would not be reprising her role for the film, as did Ed Speleers who played footman James Kent.

An August announcement indicated that newcomers Imelda Staunton, Geraldine James, Tuppence Middleton, Simon Jones, David Haig, Kate Phillips, and Stephen Campbell Moore would be among the cast of the film. James is rumoured to be playing Queen Mary. Matthew Goode, who played Lady Mary's husband Henry Talbot in the final series, will appear only briefly due to other commitments. Then, in September Jim Carter, Brendan Coyle, Kevin Doyle, Harry Hadden-Paton, Rob James-Collier, Allen Leech, Phyllis Logan, Sophie McShera, Lesley Nicol and Penelope Wilton were confirmed to be reprising their respective roles, with Max Brown joining in a new, undisclosed role.

Filming
Principal photography started in London in late August 2018. By 20 September, some filming was under way at Highclere Castle, Hampshire, which had been the main location for the television series. Also in September, filming was under way in Lacock, Wiltshire, with Dame Maggie Smith, Hugh Bonneville, Elizabeth McGovern and Michelle Dockery as well as two new cast members, Imelda Staunton (wife of Jim Carter) and Geraldine James; scenes shot in Lacock included a celebration with horses from the Royal Artillery. Filming concluded in November 2018.

Plot
As of 21 May 2019, little had been released as to the story line but the official trailer indicated that the estate had cut its operating budget and was getting by with less staff. Due to the impending visit of the king and queen, former head butler Carson returns to help manage the operation. There is a hint in the trailer that a romance may be developing between Branson (played by Allen Leech) and Bagshaw's maid Lucy (played by Tuppence Middleton). Joanne Froggatt who plays Anna had told a reporter a bit about her character's situation: "She and Mr Bates have a [son]. She is passionate about helping Lady Mary with the running of Downton, about keeping the legacy going."

Release
The film is scheduled for a UK release on 13 September 2019, with the US following one week later on 20 September 2019.



How to make a Savile Row Suit (Part 1) – with Anderson & Sheppard | FASH...




Follow the making of a bespoke three-piece suit in the style of Savile Row at the helm of one of the best British tailors, Anderson & Sheppard. – Behind a drawn curtain, a master cutter takes an initial series of 27 measurements: 20 for the jacket, 7 for the trousers. From these measurements, the cutter fashions a pattern in heavy brown paper. At the cutter’s table, the cloth is cut in using heavy shears, and the many pieces of fabric are rolled for each garment into tiny packages, which await the tailors.  

How to make a Savile Row Suit (Part 2) – with Anderson




Follow the making of a bespoke three-piece suit in the style of Savile Row at the helm of one of the best British tailors, Anderson & Sheppard. – Three tailors receive their bundles of fabric and set about deciphering the cutter’s notes. Three weeks after a client’s measurements have been taken, his suit will be reading for a first fitting. The jacket will have been put together with a minimal number of seams using cotton ‘basting’ thread, and will be prime for a next round of adjustments.

FASHION AS DESIGN is a new course by MoMA that explores  a selection of garments from around the world—ranging from Kente cloth to jeans to 3D-printed dresses. Each week will begin with a conversation between the course instructors—Paola Antonelli, Michelle Fisher, and Stephanie Kramer—that introduces the themes, items, and questions that we will explore. Sign-up: http://mo.ma/fashionasdesign