A Loewe affair

In the hottest month of the year Loewe invited me to their flagship in the Design Distric to what came out to be one of the most sophisticated presentations I have ever attended in Miami .

And, I am known for being unapologetic and I say things as they are …

The fashion world is scattered with brands that leave their future in the hands of creative directors and designers and sometimes stylists. In my mind, into book-cave mode and focused on other things, I had dismissed Loewe as “another” one.

Wrong-issima on so many fronts.

The store.

It's been there for over a year now and I had never walked in. It features the remains of a relic smack in the middle that for some reasons sounds creepy, but it props you in an atmosphere of respect, silence and appreciation of the surroundings. Something as spiritual as Stonehenge: all those handbags in exotic skins and nappa, cut and assembled in Spain and displayed in the most irregular shapes look like visitors, wandering around like you exploring the surroundings. You are only bound to revere them.

The brand.

With a story of 170 years (the past), it’s been a staple of the life of countless families in Spain as a luxury brand known for craftsmanship and. Based on principles of progress, expertise, modern (the present) its heart still beats in Spain. A stance projected into appealing a crowd without borders that longs to be inspired.

The designer.

Three years ago it was passed to the hands (and brains) of Jonathan Anderson whose acumen has contributed to the re-interpretation of the brand’s DNA in a dynamic and modern fashion.

The clothing.

The collection is the first of its genre, inter-seasonal or what we call it, Pre-Fall is about refinement and fluidity, tactile sensations from leathers as soft as silk or as rigid as sellers, tailored and oversize, shearlings and volumes. The prints need a special mention, exquisite natural prints that seem coming from the Encyclopedia Britannica. I was especially fond of a mushroom and I think it’s because I am in fall mood already.

What do you wear for an event like this?

For the first time after 20 years I wore half of my wedding dress. I am divorced, but my wedding dress is a relic I proudly keep in my wardrobe. It was designed by a great friend, it wasn’t the first thing made-to-measure for me, but I am told that I was a pain, worse than a bridezilla in the process of deciding how I wanted to walk down the aisle. All I ever knew is that I wasn't imagining myself with a traditional dress. I guess it was worth the pain if after 20 years the skirt, in a pale pearl-grey silk-gazar was resumed, put on, zipped up with no hurt feelings (it could have gone haywire drama craze).

I paired it (down) with an American Apparel V-neck heather grey T-shirt, my ubiquitous FurryLAB feathered slides made with certified authentic vintage astrakhan and crocodile skins and a saffron cross-body purse by Raison d’Etre, the Sabine collection, in a distressed and antiqued leather.

The take-aways.

I discovered a brand.

I developed a crush on the collection. It’s like the first symptoms of being in love, when you keep thinking that you’d wear this with this and that with that without having them in your closet.

It’s in Miami.

The event was exquisitely organized, understated and elegant, nothing was overdone, there were no fake air-kisses.

Everybody was professional, welcoming and pleased to be hosting that I left with that feeling that I wanted to be friends with all of them.

I received a coin purse in gift, so tightly and perfectly packaged that I had double thoughts before opening it, they lasted 5 nano-seconds though.

A hot summer afternoon of skinny-dipping

It's the dog days of summer and rated R headlines are all the rage, especially if you are vacationing, sipping rose' under the striped umbrella at Soho beach house. If you are cooling off in Montauk, you are not exhonerated either, this is a headline that is supposed to attract the highest traffic. 

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You will not be disappointed.

In chic-landia (here)  you know not to expect #OOTD, celebrity spotting or make-up tutorials because 

1. we don't follow trends, we set them;
2. we don't believe in the force of the outfit-of-the-day, because what works for me today doesn't necessarily work or mean anything for anyone else's body or wallet;
3. we wear "barely there" make-up, instead we take skincare as religiously as the morning coffee;
4. also, we don't wear skinny pants and this is a long story you'll fid more about in the book 

So, what the heck are we talking about?

Thank you for reading until here, because what's about to unfold is as juicy and sultry as skinny dipping. 

For real.  

It all started with a bunch of wild girlfriends and a conversation in which we established that European women wear lingerie outside the boudoir, yet also go braless when they feel like it, and that includes the beach (with a certain filter when children are prancing around) because we don't fancy tan lines.

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ombre' sequinned bikini

Then, it continued with the reality that when it's time to start wearing a bra, in Italy, we are accompanied to the lingerie store where the expert sales associates (aka, the owner that has dressed the entire family, generation after generation) find us THE bra. 

That everyone's size is composed by a lot of elements, the ribs, the breast, the shoulders, her posture, her walking and sitting habits that cannot be just confined to a number and a letter. 

That whatever the bra is, a triangle, under-wired or balconnet, padded or semi-padded, lace, tulle, lycra, cotton, it is supposed to make us feel naked, it doesn't show, mark, cut, shows too much, holds the breasts enough not to make it overflow or unflattering.

That we hand-wash said bras and let them dry flat.  In other words, Sophia Loren in her heated 1963 movie "Ieri, Oggi, Domani" didn't do anything far away from reality. Not that every Italian woman looks as damn sensual while manipulating black stockings and garther, but that stockings, bras and underwear hanging in the bathroom is pretty much a true scene as that truth that we talk with our hands. 

As you can imagine, the conversation went BEEP and exponentially happier by the many chilled glasses of rose' circulating. Shortly after, it was decided to all go spend an afternoon at La Perla, the quintessence of Italian lingerie, to make all gf's acquainted with the wolrd of luxury lingerie and feel a bit closer to Sophia.

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I can read anything, even a catalogue

My first job in Miami was in the showroom of La Perla from where I was representing, distributing, merchandizing, marketing, speaking, breathing, wearing their bras and underwear to the Caribbean. And you may imagine how, walking into the boutique, was for me a joyful flashback, to when I had the luxury to be handling every day the most gorgeous collections and was privileged to fit their sample size as a glove. 

Reminiscing of all the techniques, history of the looms and the family who used to own La Perla, sparked up the passion again and the desire to know more of a luxurious world that one can wear without anyone knowing (or maybe only the ones that should know.) 

Lace under-wire or removable pads? coffee or prosecco anyone? is blush or white the most neutral color? fuchsia or sapphire lace? bralette or triangle for home lounging, Leavers lace or Chantilly? laser-cut or soutage bathing suit, hand embroidery and the Maison collection. 

It was a deep-dive into a world where every piece is luscious, sultry, plush, luxurious, alluring, evoking a moment between you and your skin. And there you have the skinny-dipping. 

How easy it is to get used to luxury? Luxury is a state of the mind that prescinds from the monetary value and allows you to be a kid again. Anyone can be a queen for a night, a moment, an afternoon, just act "as if" to feel that richness that nobody will be able to take away. 

On second thoughts, an afternoon at La Perla should be required by law before obtaining a license to be a woman. 

dealing with the F word

Fashion’s July is the month that starts with the sparkles and then sends everyone to Slim Aaron-esque summer vacation.

I am not referring to the 4th of July, but couture and, being Couture, it happens in Paris.

Angelo Flaccavento wrote a punkish article on Business of Fashion on the status of Couture and how it’s been somehow occupied and populated by aliens, that is the ones that don’t belong to Couture, but tag-along. It’s a bit like the phenomenon of Art Basel Miami Beach: from being an art show, to one of the most lucrative and successful art shows world-wide, to: everybody hops on the caravan and everything is dressed up as an excuse to create a party around it. And you see things of Fellinian envy.

“Couture is couture - fashion to the nth degree and the last remaining remnant of the old world concept of fashion as a language and privilege of the elite.”

— "Identity Theft at Paris Couture" - Angelo Flaccavento, Business of Fashion

Couture gives “validation”, couture is couture, “fashion to the nth degree and the last remaining remnant of the old world concept of fashion as a language and privilege of the elite.”

It’s a moment of change in Fashion, gender blending and that awkward almost blurring vicinity between ready-to-wear and couture, which is what Flaccavento is sensing after his week in Paris. Couture is old-school, based on rules that are crystallized in the past, it's slow, it's unique, not replicable or Instagrammable in a #ootd

If fashion were a religion, couture would be its god, the tipping point of Mount Olympus, very much noble and aristocratic and less democratic, if the parallel would hold. 

Nevertheless, for a fashion hard-core extremist like me, confined in the steamiest and most un-glamorous corner I could ever be left at, I need beauty, I need Fashion with the big F, my “eye has to travel” like editrix extraordinaire Diana Vreeland said perfectly in her own special and creative language.

To make everyone up to speed, a couturier is a créateur de mode appointed by the French Chambre Syndicale de la haute couture and designated by France’s Ministry of Industry, a very specific denomination, it’s like the equivalence of a D.O.C. wine or being “Made in Italy” or being an OBE, it doesn’t happen overnight and when you are, you are. There are 8 Italian designers out of 98 and all I am going to do now is to share my absolutely favorites.

Some facts (you may know or not) in chronological order:

1.   Valentino’s duo, Maria Grazia Chiuri and Pierpaolo Piccioli after many years at the helm of the house, split. Rumors were circulating for a while, since the March runway shows, but it was announced the same day the couture collection was shown. Piccioli remains the sole creative director, Maria Grazia is out. They brought the brand up to the limelight, hard workers, skilled, tenacious and capable to maintain the high standards of the Emperor himself, Mr. Valentino Garavani.

2.   Christian Dior, orphan for a few seasons of a creative director after Raf Simons left, tadaaaahhh, has a new creative director, the first woman in the history of the house, and guess who it is? Right: Maria Grazia Chiuri: all the best #girlsrock

3.   Fendi showed the collection in Rome, because first they are from Rome and second this year they are celebrating the 90 years of the atelier. Models and furs seemingly walked on the waters (aka, a see-through plexiglass runway) of the Fontana di Trevi, in a fairy tale reminiscing of Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita” . Karl (Lagerfeld, as you will get used at how in fashion we call the masters by their first name) even tossed the three coins. It must have been magic, that’s all I can say.

On another note, you may have seen some images of Dolce & Gabbana who threw their version of couture Alta Moda, closing off an entire neighborhood of Napoli: they are not couturiers. 

A taste of taste: from that Oscar de la Renta black dress to Bill Cunningham, and back

This is how this post started:

“After all I’ve watched since the 1960s of the women’s movement, it bothered me that women are told that the ultimate expression of dressing is red-carpet worthy”

he said.

“There is something powerful about a dress that is exquisitely tailored and perfectly correct.”

continued William Norwich in an interview with NYT's Dan Shaw talking about the inspiration behing his second novel, “My Mrs. Brown”.  The story of a woman who lived in Rhode Island as a maid and, stricken by an out of the ordinary black dress she peeked in a client’s closet, initiates a trip to the City to look for her version of the same dress, no matter how much it will cost her. Because it’s never too late to find [fill in the blank] ... the Prince, happiness, joy, peace, the job of your life, or, above all, yourself. After you found yourself, just please remember to never feel overdressed and keep your chin high.

Taste is like truffles, must be enjoyed in small doses and it grows on you. 

Today’s fashion’s “business-as-usual” is a "loud" photo-shopped sponsored in-your-face #OOTD after another that somehow has come to overtake and abandon to oblivion a more genteel sophisticated slow-pasted personal style. It may be generational. 

Fashion is in our way of life, style is our lives, whether you live and work for the fashion business or not, style is what says who we are and helps us shape who we want to be. Virginia Wolf is known to have said that no matter how much clothes are sneered at and considered frivolous, “they change our view of the world and the world’s view of us”.

And then, while I was writing, Bill Cunningham dies in NYC at 87 and the post took a different direction, unexpectedly.

The ultimate gentleman, discreetly documenting the real runway that always will be, the street. Not even the father of street style, because that street style we know is commercial, staged, artificial, with no passion other than the temporary happiness money will procure you. Bill says, in the documentary dedicated to hi, “there’s nothing cheaper than money” that is what Cunningham was all about, that’s why he was a one-of-a-kind rare bird of paradise.  

Him and his bicycle, his blue jacket during the day for the “Off the Streets” page and him and his suit or tux when needed for his social page, a frugal and simple life, a reserved, intimate person whose soul, creativity and imagination would peak at the corner of 57th & 5th Avenue, the heart of New York City. There’s a parallel with Mrs. Brown’s life, off the limelight yet lightened up by that Oscar de la Renta black dress.

We live in loudness, arrogance, we are surrounded by vulgar disrespectful presence, “I post ergo I live” people feel alive only if they are visible, no matter if what they showcase is real or purely constructed. Life is not propaganda, thinks Norwich and women exist even when they are over 40, it takes introspective, it takes looking at yourself from the balcony as if you were a passer-by, then looking at your wardrobe and finding out maybe that what you are wearing doesn’t really reflect your YOU now.

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What’s the take-away?

Let’s just remember that “beautiful things don’t ask for attention”. We have all been a Mrs. Brown and the time to go to the city and find THE dress is always now, not "one day" and that corner of 57 & 5th is a fleeting one, one snap away. We will always "dress for Bill" with a genuine smile. 

Have you ever had a black dress you have dreamed of all your life? or a boyfriend or a job ... something or someone to stamp that big smile on your face and everything is gonna be alright.

Slow fashion one store at a time

As soon as fashion month was over, my fashion month in Miami started: time to connect the dots. 

Macy's

I was selected to participate as a stylist to a nationwide Macy's event. 

Because honesty is what brought me where I am today, I must confess two things and i am doing it beforehand, as an opening act although normally, in a regular opera, they would be left as the finale.

First: it was my first time ever inside a Macy's store (except once a few months back attendeding as a guest at a Q&A with a chef). In 20 years in the US, the closest I had ever gone to a Macy's store were the Christmas windows on 34th Street you know where. Why; you'll figure it out in the book "The Cheat Sheet of Italian Style" coming out in September, for now take it as shocking as it is. 

Second: I have never considered myself a blogger, nor I ever introduced myself as one. There are different types of bloggers and overall I never fit in any of them. I have worn so many hats a scholar, as personal stylist, wholesale, business development, marketing, merchandizing, training, communication, product, model (oh that's before I even finished college)that I know a lot and have a bit of stories for everything. 

That is what drove the readership to the website (and thank you for reading.) I don't show people how to dress like I do, I have always been behind the lens, I don't propose the #ootd because, that's me. I tell stories, empowering ones, I like inspiring women by telling what goes beyond what I wear, the trend of the season, the must haves and what to buy on sale.

There are so many people (talented and not) that do that, and another one is not needed. "I say it with clothes" is what attracted people to me, without me trying to: that's what convinced me I had an audience. Mindblowing. 

With these premises, I accepted, tadaa'.  

I was humbled they chose me as one of four, the only one +40. I attended all the pre-event prep meetings, read the rules and and made it to the day invited all the friends I could, but I was so last minute late, no one could make it. Except, the most rewarding experience, K., a fan, a follower turned acquaintance, turned friend, a pen-pal friend who drove a couple of hours from the Keys to meet me for the first time (God bless her and her husband who patiently drove and assisted on a side to the shenanigans). 1 first goal was accomplished: engaging with my audience. I mean, K. drove miles ... OK, over.

Goal n.2: prepare a closet, my theme was "The Good Life". It was immediately a ladies who brunch, polo, golf, tennis, chilling at Soho House or River Yacht Club. I don't need that much to start thinking, if you give me a theme though, my mind goes fast. 

Goal n.3: sell. We were not given the hard sell speech, but it was understood. Not really sure how were the floor sales of that day, there was a big event in the shoe department at the same time, but I know I walked a couple of ladies to the corresponding corner of the department because of something I was wearing.  Did I mention we were allowed to wear an outfit of our choice that would match our theme? 

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Natalie @osmblogger being my gracious model 

BONUS: we had models assigned to wear an outfit from our selection, but I ended up not having one, and sweet hearted Natalie (@osmblogger on Instagram) volunteered to wear one dress, she twirled around in the closet, pictures were taken and got featured in Times Square. Yes: NYC maga-screen, the heart of the world. 

Little more to say other than: mission accomplished. 

A special thank you goes to @nikkinovo, @southfloridabloggers and my partners in crime for one Saturday @zeinabkristen @blameitonmei @iamnatalialilly 

KIT AND ACE

Read HERE on Trusted Clothes how integrity meets the Italian way via Technical Cashmere. 

Oscars: the best dressed

The 2016 State of Fashion: a Manifesto

What’s Fashion anyways?

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I get the question quite often from people that live what I see as a disconnect from what the runways are and what trickles down to the department stores.

They are outsiders, yes, but what does Fashion look to someone who is not ingrained in the industry and doesn’t speak Prada?

Fashion is a dream, story-telling, is transmitting a feeling, an emotion, an experience meant to a like-minded audience.

Fashion is performance, reminiscence, hint, teasing, a whiff of an aroma, a smell loaded with memories and translated on the collection, runway or presentation.

Fashion is believing in a story and telling it as it is.

Fashion is loving despite the oddities.

Fashion is process, not massive production, it doesn’t have to please everybody.

Fashion is luxury, not fast food nor instant gratification.

Did social media break the system?

Are runways supposed to break the Internet?

Do we still look at Fashion as the dream?

Is New York fashion week finished? Leandra Medine of Man Repeller thinks that it all started when Fashion Week became a trend, and as any good trend, they come and go. What do we do until the cycle comes back? Live in clothes, she suggests.

In a more straight-forward manner, NYT’s critic extraordinaire Cathy Horyn  questions the authenticity of Fashion in the era of social media. She draws almost a graph, the higher the social media bru-ha-ha the higher the level of insanity or absurdity. And honestly, were I a designer, especially a first-timer, I wouldn’t want to be having to hire a bitch of a publicist to help me shrug from my shoulders  the label of “absurd” signed by The New York Times.

The fashion-buying public is aware of where presentation ends and branded content begins.

In New York, more than any other fashion week, we have assisted to an exaggeration of social media content. To capitalize on social media buzz, brands have opted to switch the seasons starting September when the fall collections would be presented and February would go for spring.

We have seen alternative ways of introducing new ranges, like the Studio-54-themed at DFV or bigger louder lavish ones like Kanye’s or Rihanna, but must agree with Mrs. Horyn on one simple point: the spectacle, the mise en scene, the Hollywood draconian production was smoke in the eye to the industry trader, the buyer, the journalist that is not impressed by the show, but by the quality, workmanship, attention to detail, fil rouge that something that grasps all the senses, despite of the wallet.  Voila’, I couldn’t leave it unsaid

There was a general vibe that wasn’t camaraderie, the see-now-order-now-wear-now was the talk of the town, but may have killed that allure and building desire of waiting those 6 months to have something beautifully confectioned.

To say it with Karl Lagerfeld: it’s a mess 

Now, I don’t live under the leaf of a snow-pea, Fashion is a dream, but it's a business with marketing and sales, or it’s a bad dream. We Must Sell and we must cater to the consumer spending public.

So are the brands embracing the instant-buy system promoting a democratization of fashion?

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Luxury comes from passion and inspiration, it’s a state of mind, creative and inspired work that caters to a few. And it’s good that way. Brands like Burberry or Tom Ford are trying to cut the gap between the heat of the catwalk and the in-store purchase.

To say it with the words of Francois-Henri Pinault, the CEO of Kering Group, the see-now buy-now immediacy ‘negates the dream of luxury’. 

Killing the traditional system of 6-month wait after the catwalk, is simply not feasible and would bring the end of the magic of fashion, the world of suspence.

Besides, where do we leave the wait and appreciation for something that needs time to be made?

Grammy's, the Red Carpet Winners