La Vie En Rose

Dita Blows the Lights Out

How does the world’s most glamorous burlesque queen, Dita Von Teese, celebrate her 35 years on this ordinary earth? With dear, old pals in old-school fashion, starting with a late supper at Mr. Chow in Beverly Hills, then moving on to Hollywood for a midnight cap, curled up on the chintz sofas in the sitting lounge of the Chateau Marmont.
Dressed to the nines in honor of the birthday gal, 22 of us toasted her course after course of dumplings and duck in the new upstairs private room at Mr. C’s. Not sure who was having a better show, frankly: Those of us looking out the glass wall at the diners below, or the gawkers looking up. Susan, Dita’s younger sis was there with her new husband, as was her steadfast and sexy manager—best pal Melissa Dishell in the most amazing vintage Thierry Mugler dress she picked up at some Paris vintage shop (of course!).
Conversation zigzagged to the Vanity Fair shoot earlier in the day, featuring many of the bold-face activists involved in the MAC Viva Glam campaign these many years. Dita’s been riding an oversized lipstick like a motorized bucking bull in awareness-raising showcases from Tokyo to Miami’s Art Basel, where the “Lipteese” campaign got started last December. “I just wish we would’ve...

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Your Weekend: Hitting the Swerve Fest

Maybe it’s growing up with skateboarders or diving neck deep in DIY expression, but I’ve always gotten a charge from the pioneering and hugely influential creativity of West Coast culture—a melding of the visual and audio arts and the board sports.
Today marks day one of the first Swerve Festival, a weekend romp of new films, installation art and live bands going off at Barnsdale Art Park, Echoplex and the Vista Theater in L.A.
This is the real deal. From the art show curated by Aaron Rose to documentaries on the Paskowitz surf clan and Big Brother provocateur Steve Rocco, the players in this celebration are leaders in this thriving scene. I’m particularly keen on checking out the 15-foot tall pinwheels by artists such as Mike Mills, Geoff McFetridge, Thomas Campbell, Ed Templeton and Terry Richardson. The 10 wheels are going up today at Barnsdale Art Park.
There’s also an underlying eco theme to the three-day party, with solar-powered and organically farmed ingredients fueling it all. And seeing much of it all is free.

Paging Carrie Bradshaw: A Second Helping of Fresh [Fendi] Baguettes

Even before the ink was dry on the contracts for the “Sex and the City” film, DecadesTwo co-owner Christos Garkinos was already declaring a return of that show’s playful, designer-heavy style. And one feature, in particular, had him on the hunt during his latest buying house calls to client’s bulging closets: The Fendi Baguette.
The accessory that launched the “It” bag phenom when it was introduced in 1997, the Baguette is named after its small and narrow shape and the way it snugly fits under the armpit—not unlike a bar of bread might be carried from the baker. From beaded encrusted to minimal patent and every incarnation imaginable, the Baguette fueled the contemporary collectors craze in accessories.
“I didn’t even want to touch them for a long time,” Garkinos told me during one of our two or three interviews this summer. I had been assigned not one, but two features on him, business partner Cameron Silver and their expanded Melrose consignment store, first for the L.A. Times (that one ran last month), then for an Elle feature running in the Novemeber issue. “But they suddenly look right again” he continued. “The Baguette is having its second coming.”
Between Garkinos’ influential decree and the return to set of Sarah Jessica Parker and posse, Baquette creator Silvia Venturini Fendi evidently got the message. She had them back on the runway today at the Fendi presentation in Milan. With more than 800,000 sold in the last decade and for upwards of 1 to 4 Gs a pop, Ms. Fendi knows all too well on which bag her bread is buttered.

Update: Christos just emailed to say he just relieved a Saudi princess (I kid you not!) of 20 of the most over-the-top Baguettes.

Hey, Everybody's Doing It! The Met's New Blog Show

And so it goes, if fashion journalists and even those who are neither journalists or even know much about fashion can blog on the topic then why shouldn’t one of the best fashion departments in of one of the best museums in the land blog, too?

The Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York announced today in WWD that its next exhibit will get in on the interactive act with a “blogbar” (nothing like mixing the notion of cocktails with this newfangled thing called the internet), showcase the daily postings on its site and even publish some of those comments in the post-show catalog.
The exhibit--"blog.mode: addressing fashion," on view from Dec. 18 to April 13—aims to expand and democratize the dialogue between the storied institution and the public (especially all those young whipper-snappin' clotheshorses, no doubt) on a subject that is everywhere and, therefore, already democratic in many ways. Well, except for maybe a brand-spanking pair of Manolos; Blahnik is underwriting the show.
Some 40 ensembles, complete with accessories, will be on view, starting with a 1730s man's suit and finishing with a look from the 2008 collections, which curators Harold Koda and Andrew Bolton will pluck off the runways. From the Met’s archives, there will be conversation-provoking looks from Rudi Gernreich, Adrian, Yohji Yamamoto, Hussein Chalayan (as well as the CDG and JPG looks pictured here) and the usual, more commercial suspects.

In all seriousness, it's about time museums start sharing more of their precious archives with the accessibility the web affords. As with a painting or sculpture, it's never as enlightening as seeing the real thing up close and personal. But enabling all people to witness their potential even on a screen just seems like par for the course for any place charged with safeguarding a legacy, particularly that of a public institution.

The Onion Makes Me Cry

Just in case you didn't catch this cleverly written article on American Apparel in the recent edition of The Onion, enjoy every sardonic, on-target observation here:

14 American Apparel Models Freed In Daring Midnight Raid

LOS ANGELES—"There were girls everywhere," FBI agent Curtis Froman said. "Draped over furniture, sprawled spread-eagled in the corner, and huddled close like animals."

Audrey Bernstein in the Pilot Seat

How better to cap a crisp Sunday but with a garden party filled with Proseco, figs and fab pals?
Did just that last night with uber fab pal Audrey Bernstein. It was as lovely a time as any other of her shindigs, complete with rugs over the ground, a petite chandelier suspended from the tree, savory treats served from antique silver trays and other fixings of a living room al fresco. But our reason for converging on this early evening was to pitch in for the pilot that is part of Audrey’s new incarnation as lifestyle guru.
The rollout of Oh Audrey began earlier this year online with a site offering short films and daily updates on crafting, cooking and entertaining in the unpretentious glamorous way that is Audrey. Her roster of expert contributors is as sparkling as the amazing guest lists that were always a signature of the N.Y. and L.A. nightclub parties that landed her on the radar. Somehow she segued the wildly happening Cachet night at Les Deux in Hollywood (when the place was owned by Michelle Lamy and utterly cool) to the tasty day break of the Bluebird Bakery in Culver City. With Oh Audrey, she is merging her two lives—as entertaining impresario and domestic diva.

The Kids Are Alright

Few scenes thrill me more than the sight of kids who give a damn about turning it out—and doing it with all the flair and flash their mom’s closets, the thrift stores and their own wild imaginations can muster.
So I was in hog heaven (and not just because of the tray-passed petite pigs in a blanket) at the spectacle on view inside and outside St. Vibiana’s, the former downtown L.A. cathedral and the address for lastnight’s Teen Vogue Young Hollywood bash (which I hit after the Chanel opening across town). Like I cared that Hayden Pantettiere, Rumor Willis or (God help her) Jamie Lynn Spears were there. (Although I do have to say that non-teen Mary Kate Olsen cut a compelling silhouette in those needle spike heels and grand coat with the grander fur collar.) My lens was focused on the outfits! Even if I did experience major flashbacks to my 1986 prom. Of course, much of this crowd hadn’t even been conceived then, making it all the more retro. Yikes.

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Club Coco

Once the sun sets, Rodeo Drive doesn’t exactly boast a nightlife. But last night a corner of this luxe lane underwent a kick in its fancy pants when Chanel toasted its newly renovated L.A. flagship with a party tied to P.S. Arts. It was wall-to-wall Coco cultists, including the requisite starlets---Ginnifer Goodwin, Kate Beckinsale, Rachel Bilson, Kerry Washington—many who turned up to the after dinner a hop and skip over at Cut (owner/chef Wolfgang Puck snuck over to the store to check out all the art throughout the three stories). The best part was hanging on the top floor terrace, DJ AM cranking, the bubbly nonstop, and that twinkling view of the world. Or maybe it was finally meeting architect Peter Marino, who not only designed this space but just about every other designer flagship between here and there; the man is a super freak--and I have a whole new respect for him. Overall, not a bad way to spend a Thursday night...before moving on to the next party, at least.

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Vogue Italia Makes Pap, Not Art

In the immortal words from the film “Spinal Tap,” “There’s a fine line between clever and stupid.” And it appears Vogue Italia and photographer Steven Meisel have slipped right off the high-wire of art-as-cultural observation and right into a puddle of shit with its war-themed fashion spread in the current issue.
Grime-streaked, mud-caked, pretty young things are scarcely clad in sparkling sheaths and high heels, and mostly topless. Ok, big whoop there, particularly when it comes to European fashion mags. But across the 18 sweaty pages, the models are humping soldiers, partying with soldiers, holding up a gown barely covering both tits while posing among weight-lifting soldiers. In one spread, a woman, otherwise dressed for the red carpet, lies in a cot listless and utterly distraught next to a satisfied-looking soldier.
So, among the gold lame Ferre and silky Gucci, what exactly is the message here? The misogynistic use of women in wartime? A fantasy of sex and violence? Try “Make Love, Not War,” the title of this graphic tale.
Evidently Meisel and the clever editors at VI are vying for more shock than awe with this story. Although fashion by its very nature is exploitative (from the manufacturing to the marketing), it also has the power to reflect on the culture in a way that any good art does. And the Meisel-VI spoof on the culture of rehab in the June issue had its merits. But it’s pretty tough to muster up the love for them here if this is a commentary on a reality of rape and murder taking place right now with no end in sight. It’s just stupid.

Stefano Pilati 2.0: YSL Keeps its Man

Valentino evidently tried, but Yves Saint Laurent won out and is holding on to Stefano Pilati. The tall, dark and debonair talent has signed a multiyear contract with YSL parent Gucci Group, reports WWD today, to continue overseeing all product categories and brand image.
The news comes at the heels of a crtically acclaimed fall collection (although the storied house continues to pull itself out of a red sea of debt), and certainly Stefano’s influence is evident throughout the marketplace, from the voluminous silhouettes to his unforced tailoring.

Three years ago, Pilati succeeded Tom Ford, who hired him as women’s design director at YSL in 2000.

The Roman native, 42, boasts a CV any proper Italian fashion student would covet, including senior gigs at Prada and Giorgio Armani. While his first few collections for YSL didn’t exactly go over among critics, it appears he might actually have the last touché.

You Can Call Me Mrs. Griffith

Apologies for the gap in postings. Been MIA because Andy and I were getting hitched. We just returned from Baja Cali, specifically the seaside, boho hideaway of La Fonda, where before a few friends and family we exchanged our “I do’s.” I won’t go into all the details here. But being that this is a style site, I figured I’d at least share that part of the wedding.
Since the proposal in Nicaragua back in April, we’ve opted for a somewhat more unconventional route. No offense to you frothy brides out there, but I wasn’t about to look like a meringue topping. Magda Berliner created a dress that was both craft and edge: she recycled strips of needlework laces in varying shades of whites and created a tiered sheath. At the top, she attached a one-shoulder, pieced band of butter-soft white leather. I paired it with Repetto champagne suede and gold leather gladiator sandals and a necklace of tiny porcelain doves by Bodo Sperlein from Lladro’s Re-Cyclos collection (yep, despite being subjected to all kinds of Lladro figurines growing up, I couldn’t resist wearing a piece from them). My mom found the scrap of lace I wore as a veil among her fabric stockpile just days before the wedding.
As for Mr. Griffith, he looked as dreamy as ever in a white seersucker Jill Sander suit, brown suede slip-on Vans (this was the beach!), and powder blue, embroidered dress shirt I picked up in downtown for a steal. At the cuffs were Sperlein's doves.
No diamond engagement ring here either. So done. Instead we opted for a ruby.
By the way, I’m still going by my maiden name. But if you call me Mrs. Griffith, I won’t get perturbed. Much.

Kim Hastreiter is not Anna Wintour

Like art and, well, just about every other creative concern, fashion is increasingly dominated by sell-outs and poseurs. All the more reason to watch the pure mavericks--such as Paper Magazine co-founding editor Kim Hastreiter. Like a Timex watch or the EverReady bunny, this chick just keeps on going with an exuberance to celebrate creativity in all its forms and showcase it in surprising ways.
Case in point: the fall fashion report in this month’s issue of Paper. Fifteen spreads are devoted to illustrations of the best of Lanvin, Pucci, Dolce & Gabbana, Balenciaga and others by the 13 artists from the Creative Growth Art Center in Oakland, a facility Kim has supported as an art patron, no less, since a friend took her there 15 years ago. As she writes in her introduction: “The word ‘handicapped’ is often defined as "working with less," but the art at Creative Growth seems to indicate the opposite -- these artists appear to be working with more of everything: more freedom, more imagination and most of all, more truth.” Amen.
If that weren’t enough, Kim convinced

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