Posts Tagged ‘vogue’
Who can ever get enough of ADR? Here she is yesterday in Paris just doing her thing. Incidentally, she must’ve got the Tehran Times memo about covering up and swathing in patterned scarves. I love her kaleidoscopic fusion of florals and geometrics, colours and black and white.
Or should I say, Caroline Sieber von Westenholz? Her recent wedding was featured in the September 2013 issue of Vogue as The Wedding of the Year – look out, Klout score! She is formally referred to as a Chanel brand ambassador and Karl, himself, made her wedding dress. Of course, Laetitia Crahay had a hand at the veil and so on and so forth. Privilege at its apogee. Seriously, I’ve been following her on instagram for a few months now and it’s all St. Tropez to me.
She lives in a castle and dresses as though she had every runway collection at her fingertips. All her clothes look brand new, too. Poppin’ tags. (Never mind tags I swear she drinks champagne for breakfast). Her life is most assuredly a charmed one. Picking street style proved difficult, however, because Caroline sometimes looks too affected, as though the clothes were laid out for her the night before by a Chanel-bot. I tried to select the few outfits that have a bit more movement to them. Something common folk might aspire to, if not dare to imitate whilst feeling ballsy one afternoon in a couture daydream. Read the rest of this entry »
From Brazil, but of Italian origin, Iza is the sole inspiration for lugging my ass to the gym after a long day at work. Following her on Instagram is like getting a stream of what I wished my body looked like all day long. Her Pilates regiment looks like some weird extortionist’s training but she does it religiously, suspending from bars and ropes. Plus, she’s fancy. Ever see her on the red carpet? Her legs as long as infinity. She killed it in Cannes this month, too. Her model street style is kinda sweet, too, with Valentino rockstud flats and Cartier bracelets (goddamn this woman).
She’s modelled the runways of the world, used to be a Victoria’s Secret Angel and apparently, doesn’t shave her legs. I can forgive her, though. Can you?
As I skip over a few continents and dip down under, it would appear that a slow, cold winter is descending upon the otherwise terracota island officially known as Australia. To me, however, it’s the new frontier of fashion. I love me some Aussie fashion bloggers (and designers). Their style is beyond effortless and they wear a lot of grey, which is alright with me, considering it’s my favourite fashion colour always and forever.
This Eurotrash figure has been on my mind ever since I saw a photo of her wearing a military blazer and light wash blue jeans, neutral oversized tee tucked in – only a handful – at the tummy (which I’ve always done since). If there is any person who is realistically, my style ideal it would be her. Sure, I can fantasize about Anna dello Russo’s headpieces and Miroslava Duma’s pattern proclivity, but in reality, Emmanuelle Alt is the girl I am when I get up out of bed in the morning.
She’s a poster child for Balmain and Isabel Marant (her husband’s the artistic director of the latter). For each occasion she cops a fancy new blazer – unlike most women who would purchase a new dress or accessories – Alt has worn the same Cartier watch and black Balmain belt for years it seems while switching up her blazers like nobody’s business. There isn’t any blazer she won’t do. I, too, have a serious thing for blazers. Vintage, tweed, linen, oversized, velvet, leather – you name it, I got it. I won’t, however, do those DUMB made-to-order boyfriend blazers in black or navy with an exposed striped lining, rolled up at the cuffs. And you know exactly the ones I mean. I just shudder when I see a girl wearing one of those over a fancy dress – a token of style in absentia.
Take notes from this Vogue Paris editor-in-chief, ladies. Be more adventurous with your outerwear!
L’Uomo Vogue, W Magazine, Dolce & Gabbana, dating a Roitfeld and a permanent fixture of The Sartorialist street fashion roster. Giovanna Battaglia. She could be Cleopatra in a casting call, as evinced by the Eddie Borgo campaign, of which she is the face. If you follow her on twitter, she’s always hanging with Stefano Gabbana (I actually follow both of them for a complete tete-a-tete). Her style is high luxe with a tendency to keep it classy. She’s not as crazy as ADR, and perhaps more feminine. Attends fashion shows with the utmost piety, and finds her way onto style.com almost weekly. Want to learn more about this Eurotrash lady, check out the quasi-stalker blog about her: I want to be a Battaglia - but then again, who doesn’t!
Stumbled upon this ancient Vogue Paris shoot featuring Brazilian export, Adriana Lima and the most Eurotrash accessory pairings I’ve seen in a long time. The colours – bubble gum pink? OK, have we watched My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding? Screams trashy, but Lima keeps it classy with her Brazilian, come hither eyes. I love her arm parties, and you know how much I hate arm parties. It’s like girls think they are going to get famous, ahem Man Repeller, taking the same photo of the same bracelet pairing just switched around every other day. PS. I used to really love Man Repeller.
Anyway fur, Chanel bags, Vuitton, jingarells (as Emilia would say), and a whole lot of BLING watches a Eurotrash girl make.
Current research has landed me a new obsession with fashion doyenne, Diana Vreeland. Have you ever heard of her? She was a funny looking creature and after reading her autobiography, I am totally charmed by her. Not only was she the last anti-feminist who sounds completely right about the way things ought to be, she was terrifically chic, and her life, a bricolage of every upper crust of every country during the 20th century. She was Eurotrash. Everything she knew she learned in a book or from the Royal Family. She was friends with everyone EVERYONE – Andy Warhol, Cole Porter, Greta Garbo, Kings, Dukes, Queens, Coco Chanel. We’re talking she used to party with cheetahs and elephants, stuff you only read about in fairytales now, or history textbooks.