when your own initial is enough...

D&D Building...

boy meets girl

Dear Dad,

I am so glad things did not work out with that Smith or Holyoke girl you dated before meeting our Mary through Christy and John Rinehart in the spring of '57!

Happy Father's Day! Thank you for your grace, elegance, intelligence, humor, style and hard work!

Sunday allowance was always something I loved about you, too....

xx

Bob meets Mary, Georgetown, 1957

healing heart

i lost my cherished, clear crystal Kazuko heart pendant yesterday, gifted to me years ago by a dear friend who then worked at Barneys where Kazuko's jewelry and Kazuko herself were both fixtures.

i wonder if the universe simply needed it back?

once upon a time in a 1998 feature story, an EVP of Barneys said of the Kazuko craze, " the first jewelry we had in the store was the single stones of clear crystal with bold wrapping... They were mostly pendants to be pinned on. Then she did hearts, and I didn't understand. 'Barneys is not a heart store,' I told her. But she kept bringing them back, and it became the right thing."  http://www.nytimes.com/1998/12/22/style/a-priestess-of-zen-adornment.html

i always found it to be an object of incredible simplicity, beauty and calm, light and bright on the body and warm to the touch after wearing.  i already miss tucking it back into its spot in the jewelry drawer of my dresser.

the heart, and the shiny gold wire wrapped around it, also came to symbolize part of my own fashion history.  while it was given to me by one friend from Barneys, another small piece was presented to me years later by Kazuko herself through connection to yet another friend who i came to work with at YSL, all of us neatly and not so neatly intertwined through our roles and grateful for the transformative properties of Kazuko's crystals to instill in us the higher powers we needed to meet our latest, greatest challenges in the line of fashion duty...

and speaking of fashion duty, earlier this week, two of us met up for a lunch meeting at The Modern and even uttered Kazuko's name as i commented on the beauty of the signature, chunky amulet my friend was wearing.  minutes after our lunch, we bumped into none other than the legendary Andre Leon Talley at Manolo Blahnik and a brief but meaningful exchange took place among crystals of an entirely different but equally wondrous sort.

if there is a moral to the story, perhaps it is simply that positive energy and light will continue to find us when we believe they are there to be discovered.  after all, fashion is love.

small Kazuko crystal, circa 1998

from Peru with love...

at NY NOW www.johannahoward.com 

Slim Aarons Women

It was all about torrential rain and Mike Pence's plane on Thursday night in New York but some of us dodged both for cocktails amidst the glamorous likes of Katherine Hepburn, Jackie Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe.

Staley Wise Gallery and Getty Images hosted the evening to celebrate the release of a new book, Slim Aarons: Women. Authored by Aarons's longtime colleague Laura Hawk, the book features over 250 images of the beautiful women who inhabited the world of privilege and leisure captured by the detail driven photographer, whose work spans the late 1940's through the 1980's. 

Aarons, born and raised in New York, was drawn to photography as a teen. A decorated war hero, he later worked freelance for LIFE,  Holiday and other magazines. Disenchanted by the war, his self proclaimed mission was to photograph "attractive people doing attractive things in attractive places." (p25). So began his career among the world's socialites, celebrities, aristocrats and jet setters.  He himself always returned home from each shoot to his farm and family in Katonah, New York. 

Laura Hawk lends detailed observations and anecdotes based on her more than ten year adventure working with Slim. She refers to him as a storyteller and comments on his contribution to the genre of the "environmental portrait." She writes, "An environmental portrait tells the story of the subject's life in part through the background against which it is taken, and the background is usually considered as significant at the subject." (p19).  

This is the fifth book of Slim Aarons photographs published by Abrams, keeping his engaging visual narratives, many now iconic, both alive and well.  As for fairy tales, I once had the opportunity to have Slim Aarons himself autograph a book for a friend of mine who was then living a glamorous, poolside life of her own in Palm Beach... 

Kristie Karbstein Gerep, in Brazil 1988
Christina Onassis, in Palm Beach 1968

Katherine Hepburn, in Montego Bay, 1953

the party starts, Staley Wise Gallery; in background, 
To Any Lengths, Slim Aarons, in Las Vegas, in 1954,
photographing Mara Lane...

Leisure in Antibes, in Antibes, in 1969
Catherine Wilke, in Capri, in 1980

the author Laura Hawk, 
portraits of Mercedes Herrera de Benacerraf, in Spain, in 1987
and Ursula Pacelli, in Venice, in 1957

Poolside Glamour, in Palm Springs, in 1970
at the Richard Neutra house of Edgar Kaufman

Fan Mail, Marilyn Monroe, in Beverly Hills, in 1952
www.staleywisegallery.com
through November 26, 2016 

Move the Earth

As shared, I made a Sunday outing earlier this month to New Haven to visit Yale and see a few art exhibits.  It was my late afternoon walk across the sunny campus that stayed on my mind most on return to New York City.

Women's Table, Yale, Cross Campus

That evening, I spent some time online learning more about Maya Lin as I was only somewhat familiar with Women's Table, The Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Storm King "Wavefield" and a Pace gallery installation I stumbled upon some years ago.

Storm King, Wavefield

The attached link to a Makers video interview with the architectural artist taught me more about her vision and motivating design principles.  http://www.makers.com/maya-lin

The daughter of Chinese immigrants and educators, a poet and a ceramic artist, Maya was encouraged by her mother as a child, "In your generation, you should do whatever you feel like doing."  She pursued Architecture at Yale in the mid 1970's and often attributes her respect for land and the environment to her own roots in the rural hills of Athens, Ohio.

As she tells, it, her whole Senior Architecture class decided to submit entries to the contest announced for the Vietnam Memorial. She conducted 6 to 8 weeks of research, then visited the site. She awoke with the inspiration to cut open the earth to define the memorial.

At age 21 and out of over 1400 anonymous entries, Maya had no idea she would win the competition but explains that amidst all the protests that ensued over the aesthetics of her proposal, "I knew I was right. I knew that if that project was built, it would help people..." To date, over 4 million visitors experience the Memorial annually.

Vietnam Veterans Memorial,  photo, courtesy Pinterest

Maya Lin's Civil Rights Memorial is another major work I must learn about and her final memorial is "What is Missing?" a multi-sited artwork that addresses the crisis of biodiversity and habitat loss, environmental themes of great concern to her.

Civil Rights Memorial, photo courtesy Pinterest...

What is Missing? photo courtesy Pinterest

Interestingly, she played a recent role in the world of fashion, collaborating with Phillip Lim on his 10th Anniversary Spring 2016 runway show held in September in New York.

Apparently reluctant at first to engage with the fashion project,  Maya later sketched a few ideas to support the "Stop and smell the flowers" theme of gratitude the fashion designer wished to convey to mark his career milestone. http://www.vogue.com/13330642/3-1-phillip-lim-maya-lin-10th-anniversary/

She imagined seven towering heaps of toxin free compost to shape the Pier runway, simple and in keeping with the collection's earth tones and minimalist lines.

The 200 tons of earth were repurposed following the show. http://observer.com/2015/09/artist-maya-lin-sculpts-an-earthy-runway-for-phillip-lims-10th-anniversary-show/

Maya Lin’s installation seven earth mountain, 2015, for Phillip Lim’s Spring 2016 Runway Collection. 
(Photo: Courtesy Maya Lin Studio and Pace Gallery)

Topologies, a monograph of Maya Lin's work, was published last week by Rizzoli.  It will be an invaluable resource to discover more, sharing 50 projects that span the past three decades of Ms. Lin's acclaimed career.

MOCA, photo courtesy Pinterest...

I will begin my exploration on Centre Street with MOCA, the Museum of Chinese in America, designed by Maya Lin in 2009.

can we talk?

Acting is my true love. I would like to have been a serious actor, and I plan to in the next life. I'm gonna be Meryl Streep Rivers.

Joan Rivers

photo credit from FIT, Joan Rivers in Scaasi 

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/joanrivers599632.html#JTfV6bV4qVo9eMD3.99

it's witchcraft

This week was so full of appointments and adventures. I am leaving out the Friday afternoon spent with Jeanne Rohayton touring the New Museum and Bowery galleries. She was engaging and authentic and eager to share her world with us, courtesy of invite by my best friend jen. 

I am leaving out my five minutes of fame conversing with Mr. Pierre Cardin following the fashion show at MILK Studios. I wanted to help some fashion students meet him so mustered my courage, spoke passable French, and landed them a group shot that I hope will inspire and motivate them for years to come.

What pops out at me for the purposes of my blog are these few impressions below -- definitely a week for unusual encounters, magical moments and subtle transformations...


THE Cat:
On Tuesday, I make a field trip downtown to meet Marisol Mercado, designer of Temple de Mexico accessories, in a vast studio on Houston Street.  I climb up a very steep set of steps to a shiny red door and knock, feeling not for the first time this month much like I am about to enter Wonderland.

In fact, it is more of an Almodovar scene. Marisol, tall as the red door, doll like, perfect in a grey wool sheath dress, greets me, high cheekbones, almond eyes, arms and legs thin and long, click of heels on the hard wood studio floors, and a mellifluous voice that is actually all business, moving things along to the purpose of the visit, to view her collection of hand crafted enamel and copper belts, footwear, and jewelry, made in her native Mexico.

All is fine until the slinky grey cat decides to join the party, leaping up on the red leather sofa beside me, his blue-green eyes like marbles. Each time he pounces, Marisol picks him up and there he is, all fours extended, in front of her, grey against the grey dress.

"Gato, Gato," she scolds and walks him to another room of the pretty much wide open, art filled loft, only to have him return with more force, louder cries, and the desire to sit in on our meeting.  My eyes itch and I try to keep my fear in check. Mainly I am so fascinated to be a character in the scene, that I just play through it, watching each time as the action repeats itself, click of heels, return of Gato, pounce and begin again.

Later, itchy eyes under control, I attend the Assouline book signing party at the Plaza Hotel for Mr. Pierre Cardin in celebration of 60 years of innovation. It is a who's who of bloggers, editors, fashion executives, fashionistas, public relations pros, and more. Mr. Cardin signs books for two hours from behind a large desk, his muse Maryse Gaspard at his side for much of the time, impeccable in dark glasses and a black wool pantsuit with patent leather trim.  Others from the Paris team and Assouline family look on, welcome guests, and pose for photos.  When it is my turn for the designer to carefully scribes his message, I get goosebumps.

THE Cape:
The book signing is followed on Friday evening by the Pierre Cardin Spring 2011 Show at MILK Studios.  It is packed and the crowd is a great one.  I take special note of the several men in black velvet 'smokings,' a dramatic brunette in a vintage Cardin chain mail skirt worn with sleek fitted boots that hugged fabulous mile high legs, and a Betty Boop flapper type in oversized sunglasses and daring mix of patterns from head to toe.

The show is a playful projection into the future, or is it the past present at times? -- cones and circles and hoops, rubber and patent and other innovative materials worked into jumpsuits, hats, dresses and pantsuits imagined by the maestro couturier. Wrap sunglasses, silver astronaut suits, tribal pendants on bare-chested men -- possibly possessing magical powers?-- then the most cerebral of palettes in muted greens and apricots, subtle suits and dresses topped by exaggerated felted wool hats, followed by a spray of happy colors and flowers and bows and tulle and crinoline hoops and not one but at least six brides in white dresses, my favorite being the one in the mini with red plastic ballerina flats. Shifts in music register as shifts in mood and place - space, Earth, ocean, garden - with the audience in a willing trance.

At the end, a defile of men and women, and Mr. Cardin himself rises from the front row in the audience and advances quietly to meet the crew of photographers at the end of the runway. He then walks backstage and comes out once more for a slow and dignified procession with Maryse Gaspard, taller than tall, draped head to toe in a cape like sweep of golden silk and adorned with a silver choker simple as a ring around Saturn. The only thing missing is a scepter but the spell is still cast.

THE Gloves:

We are six after the show, running for dinner in the cold without a reservation, first to Spice Market (1 hour wait),  then to The Standard (2 hour wait), Five Ninth, "No" at Pastis, "No" twice at Scarpetta, and finally to La Bottega where we collapse in a booth and enjoy pizza and pasta and our own review of the evening. "Was it wearable?" "Who is designing with him?"  "Is it a comeback collection?" and so on ...

A European party girl, so tall and so tipsy she can barely stand, stumbles past our table in black stretch pants, stiletto heeled boots, black sweater. She drops a pair of long fingerless bi-color calfskin gloves. As she stoops to retrieve them, she states emphatically to anyone who cares, "They are not Martin Margiela. They are not. Everyone thinks that they are but the are not." She pulls them on snugly and smooths them over her elbows, shakes her head of long brown hair and scowls to bring home this most important point.

At home and in bed just past midnight, images from the week reel through my mind in cinematic form -- Gato in the outstretched arms of Marisol; the Paris 'mannequin' Maryse in a royal march befitting of a Queen; the last word from the party girl, because someone must always have the last word, and of course, my encounter with a fashion icon who, with the flourish of his pen and a line up of of haute looks, reminds me of where I have been in my own fashion time travel and points to the possibilities of where I might still journey.