Doug Aitken's Happening at the Schindler House/MAK Center this past Saturday was a very elegant, civilized affair…that is, until musician Ariel Pink (an LA Weekly cover boy, no less) started humping and possibly maiming a mummified cutie onstage, rubbing his chocolate smeared limbs all over her bandages. Definitely more eating-the- brown-acid than exploding plastic inevitable, the performance probably wasn't what the guests had in mind when they showed up to the venerable modernist institution for an open-air celebration of Aitken's new book, Broken Screen. But that was just fine with the host, who stood at the front of the stage grinning throughout, even when a misty rain started to fall.     I could not hum you an Ariel Pink tune if you put a gun to my head – actually, what I remember most distinctly is the smell of chocolate emanating from his body - but as far as atonal cacophonies go it was pretty damn entertaining. The performance was the kooky culmination of an event whose purpose was to bring Broken Screen's theme – how non-linear narratives serve and reflect the experience of artists in the 21st century – out of the academic realm and into the party realm.The vibrant crowd (I was glad to see the adorable Devendra Banhart milling about) was made that much prettier by soaring illuminated bamboo, watery projections in the foliage, beats from DJ Tim Sweeney, and nice fruity cocktails. In the courtyards, outdoor fireplaces blazed, and people lounged on bouncy white rubber tubes. In fact, due to the ultra coziness of the setting and the property's labyrinthine qualities (it's said that Rudolf Schindler and his ex-wife both lived at the house for several decades but communicated only via post), I completely missed the panel discussion with Kenneth Anger (John Baldessari and Andrea Zittel also participated in panels). Luckily I don't have to kick myself too hard because there's a great conversation between him and Doug in Broken Screen.     A film maker best known for Scorpio Rising (1964), a fetishistic biker daddy hallucination set to sugary pop songs like "Leader of the Pack," Anger talks with Aitken about mythology and dreams, working alone, and how he could never be a "fucking whore" for MTV, despite practically inventing the music video form. Their interview closes with Anger reflecting that if he had to do it all again he doesn't know if he would choose to be "such a maverick and a loner." He adds, "Life doesn't get any easier." It's kind of heartbreaking, coming from an artistic visionary who's approaching 80 years of age. But it must have felt gratifying to be celebrated at the Schindler House in "Hollywood Babylon" itself, the town where he grew up (he was a child movie actor) and whose mythology he helped to create. Apparently Anger now lives in my hood, Echo Park; maybe one day I'll run into him and invite him over for tea – or better yet, hot chocolate.

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Between all the schmoozing and the boozing, the cruising and the perusing (someone stop me, please), it was near impossible to find the time to do any actual writing about fashion. Now that I've had a few days to process the peculiarly exhausting whirlwind that is LA Fashion Week at Smashbox Studios, I offer you dear Style Council readers a selection of short but sweet reviews of some of the hits and misses I saw on the catwalk.

KARA SAUN

Project Runway yields a true fashion talent! I always felt that Project Runway was a quality reality show, and Kara Saun's first full collection, titled 2056, proved that the producers knew what they were doing. Working with luxury fabrics  in rich colors, Saun's retro-futurist looks were strong, sexy and feminine enough for the hottest replicant heartbreaker (although Saun says she wasn't directly influenced by Blade Runner she does love the film - and it shows). Bring on the backless! You can read my more in-depth piece on Kara Saun here.

ALAN DEL ROSARIODel Rosario was all about the Latin flava, like, literally: his show began with a priest stalking the catwalk as Latin benedictions blared through the speakers. This was the set-up for a collection that sashayed back and forth between Spanish and Italian influences, flamenco ruffles and castanets one moment, tight La Dolce Vita cocktail dresses the next. I loved the overall vibe of the roses and the lace and the ringlet curls, but some of the floor-length gowns were more unwieldy than Scarlett O'Hara's curtains. Tight leather dresses with flowing chiffon skirts would only look good on a Playboy playmate. I think the designer would have benefitted from some editing, but by the looks of it, the wildly applauding crowd didn't agree.

URIEL SAENZSaenz's downtown L.A.-inspired collection shared its '40s-meets-the-future feel with several other designers, but the Angeleno also sent out some wildly inventive silhouettes, like this cream colored wool gown with a lace train. There were always elements that made you stand and take notice (the absence of seats being one element), such as the quilted panels on a suit, an oversize hat, ribbons trailing from the shoulders of a top, or the unexpected pairings of fabric textures, like taffeta and nubby tweed. It takes a daring person to wear clothes like these, but Saenz definitely seems poised for a successful future as an avant garde fashion darling. Which probably means: no more LA Fashion Week for him, but that remains to be seen.

COREY LYNN CALTERCalter, pictured here with her insanely cute baby, got us in the mood for wintry mountain tops - from the Alps to the Himalayas - by opening her show with a magical flurry of snowflakes that fell on my pad and left little wet imprints, much to my delight. Oh, and I loved her clothes, too. There were slinky empire waist dresses cut from a perfectly thrown together jumble of patterns, paired with cozy Mongolian-looking fur vests and baggy tights like the ones I'm coveting in the Prada ads. Some of the dresses were mid-calf length and brightly embroidered - just ethnic-inspired enough to appeal to everyone's inner hippie chick. The accessories were fun, too: big, colorful round beads and knotted silk necklaces. Footwear ranged from green galoshes to dainty pumps, depending, no doubt, on the weather.

BEBEFashion Week's final runway show, the first couture collection from  Bebe, brought out big names like Courtney Love and Frances Bean, and new company spokesmodel Mischa Barton, who wore a purple piece from the Fall 2006 collection that can only be described as a silk romper, with little banded bloomers in place of a skirt. Designed by David Cardona and style visionary Arianne Phillips, the entire collection was based around the shape of the tulip, and the garments did evoke the simplicity and grace of that flower, with flowing bias cut silks, layered petal skirts, and elegant asymmetrical necklines. Models wore their hair in simple side chignons, with red lips and fuck-me pumps that screamed Robert Palmer. And on the subject of screaming, is it just my subconscious reacting, or are those tight patent leather gloves totally sadistic? LaToya Jackson, in the bottom right of the picture, clearly intends to place an order.

Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

                                                                                                  Meghan's show during fashion week was  my favorite! It was by far the sexiest stuff I saw. The theme was "James Blonde." Vagenious! While so many designers this year went for the fairytale, damsel in distress, princess waiting for prince charming thing, Meghan went tough girl.  This gal doesn't take any shit. She might rob you blind while you sleep. She will definitely break your heart. And you like that. The line was sexy, mysterious, and unexpected. Isn't that what you want when you get dress up? I LOVED it. There were de riguer trench coats, silver pistols hanging from necklaces, and handcuffed purses draped around arms. It was femme fetale through the decades, A 20s flapper number, 60's minis with kimono like sleeves, 70's Charlie's Angel style halters... There were goddess dresses and lots of  leopard and lace. What else would a secret agent wear ? Bond women were hot, but they were tough and dangerous. They don't need your help. They are women who can do it all on their own. Did I mention this was my  favorite show this season? Also Meghan uses older models in her shows which is so goddamn refreshing!  These dresses look great on anyone...Rock on sista for giving the support. Speaking of support... Holy tits! Tara Reid kept the girls up way past their bedtime.

Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Backstory: For the LA Weekly's latest fashion issue (hits the streets this coming Thursday March 30th), I decided to do a package discussing age in fashion, and the whole notion of dressing one's age. Caroline wrote a funny piece on granny chic (Steffie wrote a kick ass profile of Petro Zillia and discusses MLF syndrome, and Lina wrote a defense of the baby doll dress) Be sure to check it out. Anyway, for the photo shoot for granny chic, I decided it should be an ode to Harold and Maude, one of my all time favorite films. Not only is the spirit of the film appropriate, but Maude is the ultimate hot granny. So we shot a gorgeous young girl, my friend Heather Davis, dressed as a Maude-esque character and we shot scenes at Hollywood Forever cemetery. We found a new Harold, a Bud look alike, Pete.

I was actually carrying some of the photos with me to show the girls. We headed over to the VIP Lounge after the Jennifer Nicholson show. Our friend spotted him. Casually she says, "the dude from Harold and Maude is here." WHAT!! How fortuitous! what serendipty. I hunted him down, thrusting my hand in his, shaking his and introduced myself breathlessly. I gave him the backstory and pulled the photos out of my bag. He smiled and sighed when he looked at them and said, "that's exactly what Maude looked like to Harold."

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

At Meghan, the Bond seductress gets a little twist. Sean James of Fred Segal beauty snipped and shaved wigs as he explained, "it's not about recreating the Bond girl, it's supposed to look like a wig, that's something wrong, something's a little off. This chick is decieving you, she's in a disguise, maybe she's a redhead under that wig. It's more Alias," he says. Anthony Keidis was kicking it backstage at Meghan, then chick above is his model girlfriend who doesn't smile.

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Somewhere between this post and the last one you would have seen some pics and read a little write-up about the latest from Yana K. But I got on line with 30 others waiting to check in after a few minutes of waiting were told the list was closed and that Smashbox had taken over. I tried to track down a rep to get my ticket, she handed me one, but it was like a rubber check and it bounced at the velvet rope. About 50 people were waving tickets and were all still denied admission. I was tired, I'm not going to fight people to get me into a show. Lucky for me, that gave me time to go backstage and hang out with Karl Giant of Smashbox, who was doing make-up for the Meghan show. I love Karl, he showed me his Spiderman undies and gave me a make-over, that included dangerous eyes. The theme of Meghan's show was "James Blonde" and Karl demonstrated the Bond Girl vibe of the make-up, tan skin and smoldering eyes, the kind that can set men on fire. To get properly smoky eyes, line the inside with black, then brown on the lash line and smudging black below that. He mixes a little pink color under nude lipsticks to give the lips some life. Smashbox  has a lipgloss called "pout" a perfect light white-pink, the shade that was all the rage in the 60s, put that on first, then cover with a nude gloss.  "The look is 'I'm dangerous, I can't be trusted, I might knife you,'" Giant tells me. This chick's middle name is Danger!

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It must be tough being Jack Nicholson's daughter, it's your big night showing at LA Fashion Week and all eyes are darting around the main tent lookin' for your Big Daddy. But Jennifer Nicholson's line has been getting plenty of buzz. A fight almost broke out at the entrance to the tent. People pushed and nudged like it was a Stones concert. Lara Flynn Boyle was there with a very Reality Bites era haircut. The photographers who were spread out around the runway suddenly drew together like magnetized neutrons, the swarm could mean only one thing—big daddy had arrived.

The proud daddy waved off photographers, didn't answer any questions and watched (across from Lara Flynn.) as the show began. Lina Rinna sat next to me and gave a running commentary. "Oh, yeah, that's nice. I like that. the color is great." She was like the John Madden of fashion week. Jennifer Nicholson's line was fairy-tale inspired, diaphanous princess nightie dresses, sheer minis and skirts embroidered with standard fairytale paraphernalia, mushrooms, bowls of porridge...

This is like the third show I saw that was inspired by fairy tales this fashion week, it seems the fashion zeitgeist is about true love and the search for the happily ever after. Jennifer's  logo features two seahorses, creatures  known for their monogamy, and the dad actually carries the baby. Hmmmm....

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I can imagine Bradley Bayou's sophisticated evening wear on my mom more than myself, but his show yesterday (one of the final presentations during the last day of Mercedes Benz Fashion Week at Smashbox Studios) did have a few moments that made me sigh with desire.

Namely, two soft and billowy gowns with delicate spaghetti strap tops, high waisted belts and long pleated skirts in shades of burgundy and mocha. They were sexy, subdued and most importantly they looked comfortable.

The same can't be said for most of Bayou's other pieces though, many of which were encrusted with busy doodads including beads, feathers and sea-shells.  Some of them looked heavy, some of them made noise as the model swayed down the runway. Dramatic? Yes. Flattering? Well, sometimes.

The best stuff had a decidedly Audrey Hepburn feel. Hair was upswept, shoes were dainty and there were many full skirts and cinched waists. 

Bayou used to work for Halston and perhaps that 's why he tends to over-embellish his designs. But this is 2006, and people don't dress like Cher or Joan Collins anymore.

These days, according to his bio in the show program, he works with a lot of celebs including Halle Berry, Oprah Winfrey and Queen Latifah, and indeed, his stuff does have a red carpet-ready vibe, but nothing was terribly original or exciting.

The runway music was a lot more interesting. Sexy, upbeat electroclash and rock/techno melds that made ya bop in your seat. Too bad it didn't go with the show whatsoever... way too edgy for the elegant styles on display.

Actually the music would've been a perfect fit for the BeBe show later that night, where I met up with Linda and Steffie. Well tailored dresses, skirts and blouses in hues of purple, red and black accessorized by vinyl gloves, Princess Leah hair and Madonna-esque black tights cut at the knee (guess that look really is coming back). It was hot to trot.

A final word on LA fashion week. I didn't go to a lot of shows this time out but the long lines, constant celeb sightings, and most importantly, the enthusiasm (people actually got up and clapped earnestly when a look they loved came down the runway... in LA. Hell, people don't even do that at more visceral events like concerts these days...) suggests that maybe, just maybe this LA fashion week thing's gonna work out.

Til next season...

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Aussie kid band The Flairz has a fan in legendary A&R man Seymour Stein, who told me this morning he was highly impressed by the pre-pubescent trio when he saw them at South by South West. "They're great," Stein told me on the phone (I'm interviewing him for the Icons issue of Swindle magazine). "They need to work on their songs, but they're great."

By the way, Stein, founder of Sire records, knows his shit when it comes to this kind of thing - he's signed a few small bands in his time, you know, like The Ramones, The Pretenders, Depeche Mode...oh, and he discovered Madonna.

After we hung up I called Style Councilor Steffie straight away - she had blogged about The Flairz a few days ago after seeing them play at the Troubadour. I told her that if she ever gets bored of journalism she should seriously consider a career in A&R, seeing as she (not a millionaire) and Stein (a millionaire) clearly have the same taste in music.

Posted by Caroline Ryder

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Vancouver-based womenswear line Chulo Pony is a favorite of the Weekly - our stylist pulled a whole bunch of their pretty patterned skirts and delicate sheer blouses for our upcoming fashion issue. We love the look because it is feminine, sassy and wearable - the sort of stuff that looks casually fab during the day, but which can easily be adapted for the evening with an updo and some knock-out accessories.

Capes have been popping up all over the place, and this show was no exception, Chulo Pony opting for crushed velvet over the heavier lambswool found on the runway at Morphine Generation. Fabrics were feminine with more than a splash of Victoriana - think lace detailing, chiffon blouses, ruffled trims. Colors were muted - creams, beiges and dusky pinks. Chulo Pony girls are cool yet understated - they don't need to scream "look at me", because they already know you're looking at them...

The Toronto Star named Chulo Pony, now availble in Fred Segal, the Canadian label "most likely to score big in the U.S.". Designers Chris Kopeck and Crystal Heald said they were "terrified but excited" ahead of this, their first US show. And you can't help rootin' for them - they may be Canadian, but their line, which is chic in an airy, insouciant kind of way, is totally L.A...

Posted by Caroline Ryder

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

There were a lot of similarities between Yanuk and Taverniti So Jeans. I guess they are cut from the same cloth (ooh, sorry). The father and son designers both featured denim corsets and dresses, though Taverniti went full Girls Just Want to Have Fun with crenoline under his corseted dresses. But the overall vibe was military-esque—badges, shields, berets, and bobby hats. There was a touch of Sweet Child of Mine with the addition of plaid. And again the over all color palette besides touches of army green was charcoal and ashes. I heard a snooty Italian couple behind me talking after the show, "LA FAshion is either very good or very bad," snooty woman said. "You call that fashion?" her dapper companion responded. Jeans are jeans, it's not reinventing the wheel, but denim really is the fabric of LA, and with the new stretchy skinny jeans making a comeback, I'd say we all just got a little more comfortable. I'll pair mine with a bright tee though, no chim chimney chim chim cheroo for me... oh and you'd have a better photo than the big ass head in the way to look at if I wasn't in the second row...

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Yanuk featured models in denim corsets, skinny jeans, and wild frayed coats. And remember the tuck and roll of the 80s? You know where you folded your jeans in at the ankle and rolled it up nice and tight? It appears the tuck and roll has evolved, Yanuk's designer used safety pins to make the slim line. Models donned chain head bands, giving the whole thing a Mad Max vibe kind of crossed with Cyndi Lauper if she was to be drained of all her color. Again, the color palatte was drab and sooty. Apparently denim goes chimney sweep this year. The designers wife was booted from the second row to make room for a bunch of nobodies, who were almost booted for a sorta somebody, ice skating queen Tara Lipinski, who I am dubbing the Paris Hilton of LA Fashion Week, she was everywhere. Speaking of Paris, Alex, the Faux Paris was at the show getting photographers all excited until they swarmed around her and realized, "wait her boobs are too big! That's not Paris!" Scott Weiland was there too, with his date Mary. I asked him what he thought of the show, he paused and said "I like the leather." Weird thing is, I don't remember seeing any leather...

Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

So for the first 15 minutes at the Antik Denim show last night my ears were raped by wailing, pointless guitar riffs that went on, well, 15 minutes too long. A dude in a leather jacket jerked off an electric guitar, alone, nary a model in sight, tapping his wa-wa and yanking his wamie bar for what felt like forever. At one point someone actually yelled out "ENOUGH ALREADY." Soon after the show began, models carrying guitars plodded down the runway. A few cute kids walked the show too, they scored applause. But I don't know why showing jeans automatically means we HAVE to see the models tits. Denim=tits, not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just that it's all so predictable. And also predictable is this retro punk thing that's going on. personally I want it to die. I loved the sexy cowgirls with almost mexican blanket-esque stitching on the pockets of last season. This year it's all drugery black and gray, and trying to look as Syd and Nancy as possible. The colorful embroidery replaced by yellow stiching and studs. And what's worse— apparently we've seen the death of the boot cut jean. It's over. Too bad cause they make everyone look good. All three shows last night featured tight legged, ankle chokers. At Antik they were paired with chunky boots, though with a pair of stilettos a smile starts to spread across my face, I may rock the skinny jeans but you can keep your damn safety pins to yourself, thank you. Oh and please, please no more skulls.

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

From grungey Southern comfort to saucy high glamour, my world has been one of extremes the past weeks. Just got back from Texas' South By Southwest Music Festival and as you can see below, fashion wasn't exactly on top of the local's list of priorities.

Still, me and my LA gal pals had a fun time chatting at Austin's Beauty Bar about how we packed our ensembles (it was hot and it rained so it was a toughie!). Alot of girls were wearing Luella Barkley's Target line, which seems to be the hip chick's must-have line at the moment. One pal actually bought a bunch of stuff and is saving it so it can go up in value and she can resell.

My uniform consisted of Chuck Taylors, floral thermal tops and Rock and Republic jeans (acquired during LA's last Fashion Week) plus a couple of skirts with leggings (I've rediscovered the joy of leggings!) with Smashing Grandpa t-shirts. One day I even busted out a Pucci slip. See me below in the SXSW LA Weekly booth.Band fashion trends included the following: Afros, beards (on dudes), faux old t-shirts (still), metallics (still), big sunglasses (yes, still), 70s dresses (yay), jeans (of course), preppie polos, and 80s shit....

Attended the Agent Provacateur show the day I got back (a real endurance test) and sat next to Anthony Kiedis and Jennifer Rosero, partners with party king Brent Bolthouse. As Caroline recounts in her post earlier it was a flashbulb cirus which was annoying (Anthony called one persistent photog a "devil") but also helpful for me...I was able to sneak amongst them and get this choice shot of Joan Rivers, I mean Courtney Love, pretty effortlessly.

Honorary Style Council member Ginger Goldmine worked at Provocateur for a couple years and so, I'm lucky enough to own quite a few their fancy skivvies-- including stuff from the line they did with my all time favorite rock band The Rolling Stones, which features the famous tongue logo embroidered on one butt cheek (I only wear those on very special occasions!)

In general, I prefer AP's retro-styled designs over the fetish stuff (guess I've been to too many Bondage Balls). See my full review of the show and my SXSW coverage in this week's paper! XO

Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I went to the denium shows yesterday, I saw Yanuk, Antik Denim and Taverniti So Jeans. Stay tuned for a FULL REPORT—and photos

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm not sure if any of us Style Council gals were at the denim shows last night...

Buffalo, Yanuk and Taverniti were the designers showing, and even though denim and sportwear are LA's greatest exports - or at least most lucrative - how exciting can a pair of jeans get, right?

Maybe that's why I stayed home and worked on my book, it's called 'Vincent Gallo Thinks I'm an Asshole'. I will, however, be in attendance at tonight's alluring roster of shows: Corey Lynn Calter, Chulo Pony, and Jack Nicholson's daughter Jennifer Nicholson, a former interior designer (she did Courtney Love's pad) who started making clothes five years ago. I hear the mighty Cher might even make another Smashbox appearance in support of the Nicholson clan.

Chulo Pony is a Vancouver-based line which is part of the Nettwork Music Group, the record/management group that represents Avril Lavigne, Dido and Sarah McLachlan. The women's wear label was founded in 2002 "inspired bythe connection between the vibrant music scene and teh fashion savvy individuals that support it". Let's hope for rockin catwalk music at that show then!

Anyway, while I cannot comment on the denim fashions last night, seeing as I wasn't there, I can tell you what 'stars' were there, thanks to someone called Sogole Honarvar from BluPrint PR who has been emailing me daily celeb-related dispatches from Fashion Week. Here's what her email said this morning - frankly, I don't think we missed much...(note how Sogole diligently highlights the words Mercedes Benz, unlike every fashion journalist in town who consistently forgets to plug the sponsors)

"Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week at Smashbox Studios continued on Tuesday, March 21 with the hottest denim designers in town showing their Fall 2006 collections. Celeb sisters Hilary and Haylie Duff were on hand for the Buffalo show while Tamara Mowry (Sister, Sister) and Ryan Starr (American Idol) posed for pics outside of the Mercedes-Benz tents.

Denim line Yanuk also brought in the celebs, with ice-skater Tara Lipinski and "Dancing with the Stars" Tia Carrere (looking svelte in a cream suit). Playboy bunnies were also abounding for denim night at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week and posed for shots outside of Smashbox.

Perhaps the hottest show of the evening was Taverniti, with an entry line that swung around practically to the front doors! VIP Eve didn't have to wait in any line, however. The rapper showed up at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week right before the show (wearin' stylin shades at 9pm) and was whisked right in by her personal bodyguard after posing for photos. Celebs Diane Farr and Cris Judd were also on hand for the final denim show of the night. "

Posted by Caroline Ryder

Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Three generations of Hollywood Diva showed up for last night's Agent Provocateur lingerie show - Cher, Courtney Love, and Christina Aguilera - prompting the question: just how much drama can one room hold? Actually, the only dramatics to be found were among the predictably frantic members of the paparrazzi desperate for their money shot, and from the deliciously provocative models who proved yet again that the British, uptight as we are, have a talent for kinky.

Undergarments were see through and teeny tiny, and bras were optional as Agent Provocateur designer Serena Rees opted to cover several models' modesty with...pasties! The brunette with the pastel-colored tassled whip, mask and lilac nipple eclipsers was the hottest thing I've ever seen on a catwalk.

A see-through black lace teddy and some pretty Bettie Paige style knickers/bra/stockings/garter combos were about as modest as things got. Other than that, it was racy as you like. You could almost feel Antony Kiedis scanning the models, mentally recruiting his next girlfriend....which one would YOU choose?

Actually, my favorite gal wasn't on the catwalk, she was in the front row - none other than Mel B, my favorite Spice Girl ever, looking foxy with her lovely red tresses. Grrrrrowl.

Posted by Caroline Ryder

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Cloaks, tartan and riding boots added a dash of the British Countryside to a Morphine Generation show which otherwise stayed true to its tried and tested denim 'n t-shirt formula. The British-inspired fashions befitted the wet conditions - yet again LA Fashion Week brings with it downpours, creating pretty babbling brooks along the sides of walkways and leaving carpets soggy underfoot.

The evening wasn't an entire washout though - despite an overabundance of faded black denim (worn tight with shiny black patent heels "from one of those stores on Hollywood Boulevard," according to MG designer Erik Hart), Morphine Generation created some eyecatching pieces - double breasted wool cloaks, peacoats, antique brass buttons and riding boots among them. Think 'Sherlock Holmes Meets Cahuenga'.

Watch out for hipsters in hunting cloaks coming to a bar near you...

Posted by Caroline Ryder

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Garish colors (reds teamed with purples teamed with lotus flower prints), oddly combined fabrics (wools, felts and silks) topped with Chinese symbols and/or Skulls and Crossbones added up to a Deborah Lindquist show that was adolescent at best, plain offensive at worst.

"Someone said it was like 'Nightmares of a Geisha'," writer Laurie Pike told me afterward, and I couldn't agree more. While I wasn't a fan of Lindquist's ocean-inspired show last season, I'll take The Little Mermaid over Karate Kid anyday. Those cropped jackets looked sooo Gwen Stefani circa 2003 and embroidered Chinese dragons seemed just so dated, about as interesting as, well, a Chinese dragon tattoo. And what was with the blue and red hair extensions - enough primary colors already! Brief respite came in the form of this clingy silk dress, but by then my migraine had already set in. Deborah, bring back the  mermaids, all is forgiven.

Posted by Caroline Ryder

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

What do me, Carmen Electra, Dean and Davis Factor, and Matthew Perry have in

common?  We were all in the first row last night for the Ya-Ya show in Stage One at Smashbox. The latest from Ya-Ya was filled with equestrian touches like high ponytails that were blunt cut at the base, and riding boots. The high-waisted belt is making a comeback, we saw them in Kevan Hall's show looking like satin cumberbunds, and here at Ya-Ya they were
leather with buckles. There were clean lined coats, and soft dresses in camel and cranberry. I asked Carmen later what she liked, "everything! I loved everything!" she said.  I asked Matthew Perry what brought him there and he said, "I did the music for the show." When I asked again, he laughed, and came clean, "no, I didn't do the music for the show."  His friend kept telling me how much he loved the LA
Weekly, he went on and on. My friend tried to take a picture of us but my camera battery died. An impatient
Perry said, "Uh, can you figure out how to make this take longer?" When I went to attend the camera he bolted. I really have no idea why he was there. LA Fashion Week works in mysterious ways...

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

                                                                                          Gen Art presented The New Garde 2006 at the lavish Park Plaza Hotel on Friday night. The place was rank with old Hollywood glamour, it slinked down the grand staircase, waltzed around the ballroom and rested in the wood carved ceilings. This Gen Art show was a far cry from the last one at the Santa Monica airport.  This year to celebrate three emerging designers—  Christina Scarbo from Kit Pistol, Hajnalka Mandula of Mandula and  Suzy Yun of Unhee— stage installations with live model vignettes were set up in different locations around the hotel. At 9 pm, the stages came to life. We were in the Ballroom staring at a large cocoon made of twigs and paper, which looked vaguely like an egg in Aliens. This was the world Mandula had created and suddenly models crawled out wearing shredded tops and bottoms in varying shades of gray, I call the look refugee chic. There was one model who emerged bug eyed and full of wonder, as if she had landed on another planet, she really inhabited the installation and responded and reacted to it. The others annoyingly made model pose-y faces while staring out at the audience completely jarring with the set. We were so annoyed that we moved to the next room where we found Unhee's giant ship. On board were models wearing short jumpers made of silk with billowy pirate sleeves that walked from one end of the ship to the other whispering and talking to one another. I liked the clothes here best of all, hot little 60's esque numbers, but the opportunity for real drama was lost on the boring models, who made half-hearted attempts to reenact plank walking, deck swabbing and other swashbuckling activities. I was disappointed. Was there any direction? I mean if they were going to go for it, they should have went all the way. We headed downstairs to see what Kit Pistol had going on, the day-glow set featured astro-turf, a park bench and children's swing set that had been coated in yellow paint. Models chased each other squirting water guns, they sucked on bright colored Popsicles and jumped rope. One pushed her Barbie on  a swing. It was the most fun to watch, though it was a little fetishistic. And I felt a little pervy to think it was as hot as I did. But it was. It was hot. I liked the flirty dresses and skirts a lot, but I probably wouldn't be caught dead in the plaid padded push-up bra-like top. Despite lackluster performances, I am excited to see what these designers come up with next.

all photos by Tiger Alturas

Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

It's all happening again— same tents, same liquor sponsors, same faces. (I actually overheard a few excited chicks greet each other with a "happy fashion week!" ). Designer Kevan Hall kicked it off last night in the Main Tent with his fall line inspired by the film Mahogany. I was so excited at the prospect of 70s inspired gowns, furs, brimmed hats, and big hair, that I drooled like a kid on the short bus.  The 1975 movie starring Miss Diana Ross, about a girl who dreams about becoming a huge fashion designer was a perfect fit for Hall. But he didn't go full Mahogany.  I was immediately suspicous when I saw the first two models down the runway looked like secretaries. Then it didn't get much more fabulous. I thought a handful of the dresses seemed very Junior Prom, a few looked like knock-offs of dresses we've already seen or dresses that are so likely to be knocked off that they already seemed to be knock-offs. But there were a few dazzlers and he didn't disappoint with the fur and the big hair. And there were a few gorgeous gowns. The purple raccoon coat above was a showstopper and by far my favorite. It wasn't a bad show, it's just that Hall played it safe, given the film that inspired him he could have taken the concept so much further...

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't know why, but when I pulled up to Mr. Chow in Beverly Hills for an "intimate" Fashion Week kickoff dinner hosted by Davis and Dean Factor, Michael Baruch and Paul DeArmas, I thought there would be around 30 people there. I did not expect a Who's Who of L.A. fashion and the style addicts who love them. I did not expect Courtney Love, who came with power retailer Tracey Ross and actually looked rather pretty in a heavily made up, plastic sort of way. Fred Segal the man was there, and Jeremy Scott arrived with Devon Aoki. (He's modeling a new Keith Haring tracksuit he designed for Adidas.) It was a bit overwhelming, but Kelly Cutrone from People's Revolution kindly seated me at Petro Zillia designer Nony Tochterman's table, so I was immediately at ease. I interviewed Nony for the Weekly's upcoming fashion issue, and the woman is as fun and spirited as the clothing she designs.     Over a family style dinner of lettuce wraps, dumplings, filet mignon and melt-in-your-mouth cod, I chatted with jewelry designer Guillaume Pajolec, a funny Frenchman who co-owns Han Cholo in Echo Park, and fellow journalist Martine Bury. It took Martine and me less than five minutes to realize that we're both friends with Caroline Ryder, and just before dessert I called our girl, who is rocking a daringly experimental Vidal Sassoon haircut these days. "Dude," I said, swigging probably my fifth glass of Veuve Cliquot, "I am looking at Vidal Sassoon right this instant. Get yourself and your crazy hair over here NOW."     Here is the man whose scissors launched a thousand asymmetrical haircuts; who knew he was so tight with Scott Weiland? Alas he had gone by the time Caroline made it, so he couldn't evaluate the work of his disciples.     It was a completely fabulous evening, but it's worth noting that Jeremy Scott doesn't show in L.A. anymore, and even Petro Zillia is sitting out the shows this week (Tochterman and her husband are opening their flagship store in June), which begs the question: what does the future hold for L.A. fashion?     It clearly influences the way the rest of the world dresses, but as Guillaume pointed out, it never takes clothing to the artistic extremes of couture. And maybe that's okay, because they never take their shows to the dirty denim lows that L.A. is so good at - and which is what people really wear. Yet the best thing is that even if you're dripping in bling, like the heiress Casey Johnson, here showing me her Loree Rodkin ring, the L.A. attitude always manages to shine through anyway.

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The Billion Dollar Babes sample sale rolled into the Palladium this weekend, and I would like to say that I was very restrained...until a fabulous taupe Ya-Ya dress jumped into my arms and wouldn't let go. But at least I'm not the only one. French actress Julie Delpy has been a devotee of this mother of all sample sales for three years now, and I chatted for a few moments with the multi-talented femme, best known as the object of Ethan Hawke's undying devotion in Before Sunset. While showing me some of her purchases - a pretty lace blouse from Corey Lynn Calter and a dress from Mason (which she pronounced with a cute French accent) - Delpy, who was designing her own clothing line for a while, told me about some of her upcoming projects. She will appear in Lasse Hallstrom's next film with Richard Gere, as well as a drama called The Air I Breathe with Kevin Bacon and Brendan Fraser; and she will soon direct her first feature, a "secret project," in Paris. In addition, Delpy is preparing for the release of her second album. "I'm famous in France, as a singer," she said, revealing that her first album (many songs from which are heard in Before Sunset) is only available in the U.S. online. I asked if this next release would be sold in stores here, and she said she wasn't even thought about it. "I don't know the music business, there's a lot of prostitutes," she said, "and by prostitutes I mean corruption." Apparently the veteran actress can handle the corruption of the film industry. "I've been in the movie business since I was fourteen; I'm used to it."

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I just got back from interviewing Amanda Demme, the so-called Queen of LA Nightlife, and marketing brain behind 'hot' nightlife venues like Teddy's and Tropicana at the Roosevelt. If you go online and google her, you'll find a fair amount of press on Amanda, most of it bitchy gawker.com and Perez Hilton style reportage. So I was expecting Ms Demme to be something of prima donna...

But, as they say the proof of the pudding is in the eating - I just met the girl and she's fucking awesome. No airs, no graces. Despite what she does and who she is, strangely enough she is one of the LEAST Hollywood people I've met in Hollywood. We sat on the porch of her house in the Valley and she chatted about how she started out running the door at The World nightclub in NYC, began managing bands at the age of 21 and about the death of her husband Ted Demme (he directed 'Blow') six weeks after she gave birth to their second child. She talked about how weird it is to have the public spotlight on you, and how it terrifies her. She talked more about her two kids than she did about nightclubs or celebrities. Above all, she struck me as a hard-as-nails businesswoman who could give two shits about the glitz and glamour. "You'd never think it but I'm pretty introverted," she told me.

Believe me, I've interviewed enough people in my time to smell when someone is laying on the "I'm so humble" bullshit. But this girl was 100% legit, a straightforward broad who tells it how it is. Look out for my ass-kissy piece coming out late April in the LA Weekly's People issue.

Posted by Caroline Ryder

PS: DISCLAIMER: I'm not just being nice 'cause I want guestlist for life at Teddy's - I'm more of a filthy Powerhouse/Frolic Room/White Horse/Spotlight/Blacklight kinda girl...

Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Tomorrow night I will be exploring "the boundaries of time, space, and sound" at an all-night experience at Walt Disney Concert Hall with electronic heroes The Orb. It's the first event of the Phil's Minimalist Jukebox, a 3-week festival directed by composer John Adams. The night starts at 11.59PM and goes on til 6AM, with The Orb playing their set from 3AM to 6AM. Dntel, Boom Bip, John Tejada, and dublab soundsystem are also playing.

Yes, it's going to be awesome.

Yes, I will be there.

Alone.

I just got my confirmation back from the PR people at Disney Hall specifying that I have a ticket, no plus one. I feel kinda wierd about going to something so cool by myself. Will I be forced, 1992-style, to hug the people sitting next to me? Will everyone be on ecstasy, or have inhabitants of the electronica scene grown out of that? I guess I'll find out...

BTW: if anyone sees me wandering around Downtown on Sunday morning hugging the homeless people, please take me home...

Posted by Caroline Ryder

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

    There was an Aussie Assault at the Troubadour earlier this week, and I got hit, hard! The night started smashingly with a literal rock star parking space: none other than Seal was sitting in a Ferrari convertible outside Dan Tana's, so my uber rock chick friend Laurel chatted up the silky-voiced Mr. Klum while he waited for a friend to pick up takeout for dinner. But really, Heidi, we only wanted his spot! Once inside the club, the bluesy punk duo The Mess Hall made me wanna get dirty with their raw, Iggy-meets-the Gun Club caterwauling (and good lord the singer was nice lookin').     With The Flairz, though, it was love at first riff. This garage rock trio from Perth consists of Dion and John Mariani, 12-year-old cousins who both play guitar and bass and sing (Dion is pictured), and 13-year-old drummer Scarlett Stevens, whose dad Philip is the band's manager. The Flairz (with a z for "zing," said Scarlett)  have been at it for the last two-and-a-half years, and were passing through L.A. on their way to SXSW, with most of their parents in tow and the full support of their teachers back in Oz. The trio has a 4-song EP called Rock and Roll Ain't Evil, and Scarlett has already guest-drummed for the likes of Jack Johnson.      Thanks to parents with good taste, The Flairz have a list of influences that includes Led Zeppelin, Creedence, and of course, AC/DC, and they're also into current bands like Kings of Leon, the White Stripes, the Datsuns, and Wolfmother! Dion was totally jazzed to see the singer of Jet in the crowd, and he told me so with a big grin.     The band's tunes - get a load of "Rockin' On" and "Black Fox" - are as basic as they come, but they're delivered with so much style and gusto that the power of the package is undeniable. It doesn't hurt that Scarlett looks like a young Kirsten Dunst in Minnie Mouse earrings, and Dion is about the most virile young four-foot-tall lad I've ever laid eyes on.     I mean, come on. Look at these faces. Can you not love them?     We missed the headliners, The Living End, instead rushing to the Fonda to catch Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's set. Underneath the cover of dry ice, some dork pushed his friend into me in a pathetic attempt at flirtation. "What is he, twelve?" I asked Laurel, but then I had to correct myself, because twelve-year-olds are way cooler than that.

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I've always thought of West Hollywood as a shiny, happy sort of place - but apparently Boys Town isn't always as fabulous as you'd think.

I got an email this morning from a friend telling me that a 27-year-old woman was robbed, kidnapped and raped on February 21 by two guys on Hayworth, in between Norton and Fountain. And just yesterday, a friend of mine had to rescue two pretty actress-types being chased by a crackhead holding his dick in his hand in the alleyway behind Chocolat, on Melrose and Crescent Heights. "It was gross," she said. "One of the girls got in her car and this guy tried to climb in after her. He had his pants round his ankles and this 'suck my dick' look on his face."

The other girl scampered over to my friend, who was with several illegal over-the-border furniture movers (she'd hired them to help her move house that day). "This girl stands behind us while I am yelling at the crazy guy, telling him to fuck off because I'm calling the cops." Upon hearing the word police, my friend's furniture movers get spooked. Suddenly, they are nowhere to be found. My friend said she understood their plight - what she didn't get was why the girls weren't calling the cops themselves on their cell phones. "Then this really fucking hot guy comes out into the alleyway with a towel wrapped around his arm," she told me. "He was so damn cute...had this Che Guevara cap on...anyway I asked him to call the cops, and he was just like 'hey man...I don't have a phone...can't help you out'."

Then everything fell into place - the hot guy with the towel around his arm was a dealer and the hot chicks had come to score from him - and regardless of Mr Crackpipe and his dickish antics, there was noooo way any one of them wanted to get the cops involved. Now my friend was pissed. "Fucking junkies!" she yelled, and dialed 911 herself, watching Mr Dick-Hanging-Out attempt to make his way INSIDE Chocolat, a rather lovely French restaurant. 

Moral of the story? Girls, stick to Hollywood, where the crackheads know how to behave themselves.

Posted by Caroline Ryder

Permalink | Comments (22) | TrackBacks (0)

We The Style Council have not posted a blog for several days. We apologize for so severely dropping the ball, and as a gesture of apology bring you Elouai.com.

It's a funny little online program that allows you to build an anime doll character that looks just like you.

See this cute little angel on the left? That's actually what I look like, especially if you've just eaten a handful of shrooms. Aren't I lovely?

www.elouai.com

Do it.

--------

Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

    Not one but three people I went to high school with were nominated for Oscars last night (Matt Dillon, Dan Futterman, and Bennett Miller) so I was kinda jazzed for the whole whoop-de-doo; I had my spiritual "Go Tigers" pom-poms out (our Mamaroneck High School theme song was Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger") and I was hoping for my homies to brang it. And, well, that didn't happen, which can be explained for any number of reasons that don't have much to do with worthiness as far as I can tell - you're still all winners in my book, fellas! – but I know I'm not the only one who thought the whole show had a kind of drab, lackluster, SAFE (read: scared) vibe. How could the trailblazing Jon Stewart morph into such a non-entity? Why did Ang Lee make an "I can't quit you" joke? Why did the producers show Jamie Foxx and/or Morgan Freeman every time there was a reference to race or pimps? How about the weird anti-DVD propaganda Jake Gyllenhaal was forced to espouse?     Clearly Charlize Theron knows what I'm talking about: the girl was outright miserable. Yet even a bizarro dress like the bunchy, bow-topped Dior number she was wearing could not cause the sunny goddess to transform into Snow White's evil queen. We SC girls were wondering if she and Stuart Townsend might have broken up like 3 seconds before she walked down the red carpet. Speaking of couples, Theron would have made a fine pair with the creepy Ryan Phillippe, whose skeevy, overgrown facial hair was punctuated with a huge stress zit on his forehead. Dude, this is Hollywood; use some makeup! Was he trying to negate his wife's relentlessly wholesome perkiness? Confession time (sorry Caroline): I am not a huge fan of Reese Witherspoon. I've even interviewed her and she is as cute as a button in person. And yes, she's a good mom and a nice girl and talented and has insanely perfect skin…and well, need I go on? I just  don't find it such a bold move to portray a beloved American icon who stands by her speed freak man in very stylish outfits. I really wanted to see Felicity Huffman take it home, despite the almost obscenely plunging neckline of her Zac Posen dress.     I started watching the Oscars last night (my first as an LA resident), feeling excited to be part of the town that makes movies happen, and I returned home from my little boozy viewing party feeling just a bit more cynical than I wanted to. Where was the glamour? The magic? There were great films made last year, but when an apparent mainstream agenda speaks louder than the messages of any of the films, I don't want to listen. Now if Reese Witherspoon took on "It's Hard Out Here For a Pimp" – then I'd be all ears.

Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

First of all, the Academy Awards started at 3, and that means drinking started at 3 and so last night was a very long night. I don't have a television, and I wasn't invited to the Oscars, an oversight on somebody's part I'm sure. But that didn't stop me from inviting all my friends to Stuart's house  for Thai food, booze and plenty of fashion bashing. Three quarters of the Style Council came, Steffie and Caroline and we got it done. We meant to "live blog" but when pressed I really didn't know what that meant.. Here's our recap.

Keira Knightly's hair is an unatural shade of orange. She looks way better as a brunette and should cease and desist with the peroxide. Also she needs to stand up straight. She was spotted hunching all over the red carpet. She sat next to Jack Nicholson, and looked very nervous, maybe it was because she was scared he was going to finger her at some point.  I bet he did.

Whatever with Jessica Alba. Stuart says she's very "valley development." I call her mini J.Lo. We caught her applying lipgloss in public, proof that she may very well be from the valley. I'm not putting up any pictures of Jessica Alba. I think you all will agree we've seen enough of her already.

Ryan Seacrest made a bold move and got rid of his streaky highlights. Jessica Alba endorsed the decision. Not that we care what Jessica Alba thinks. Again, whatever with Jessica Alba.

Jada Pinkett Smith, please stop working out. Please, put down the free weights. You don't have breasts anymore, you have pecs...

Felicity Huffman, we love her but we don't love her clavicle that much. Sternum's are not sexy.

Sandra Bullock, again, we love, but what the hell happened to her hair?? what was going on? Please somebody tell me! Also, it looked like she couldn't zip her dress all the way up. I know she's pregant but for god sakes getting knocked up does not mean you stop brushing your hair. And what was up with the pockets in the gown? And Keanu was her date?

Charlize looked like she had a stick up her ass. Maybe it's because her dress was so ugly. Hideous. I did notice that Stuart Townsend wasn't with her. Maybe they broke up? By the look on her face, it may have happened last night. Maybe she has PMS Caroline offered. Her dress ate her boobs.

We LOVED Michelle Williams, she was a vision. I think we voted her best dressed. She was my favorite.

Naomi Watts? Watts up with her