La Vie En Rose

Busted! Banksy Revealed

The Times of London today is running a snapshot of Banksy, the pop artist phenom who not even his agent purportedly has ever seen in person. Apparently, a passerby clocked the guerrila artist on his cell phone while he was at work. The canvas? A building in an East London burb that is HQ for the local council--the very council that vowed to erase Banksy's murals from the area. That's sticking it to the man. The question now is whether officials can actually make out the artist's face in the low-grade pic. Maybe a 'stache and wig are in order? Don't let 'em catch you Banks!

Murakami’s Madcap Mashup

Hands down, MOCA’s grand gala Sunday night feting Takashi Murakami’s L.A. invasion ranks as the party of the year. And the trifecta of the Pop artist along with host Marc Jacobs and a performing Kanye West no doubt pushed it over the edge. The sight of Anjelica Huston nabbing the hard plastic Murakami flower table placemats greenlighted a frenzy among guests at the $1,000-a-plate fundraiser. “Make sure you get a set of four,” Tom Ford instructed my Andy. He nearly succeeded until Naomi Campbell body blocked him in her quest for three times that many. She got hers when the two of them met again before Murakami for his signature scribble. “Wait your turn,” Andy jokingly glared.

Before, during and post frenzy, however, the evening was nothing short of animated. Guests entered the Technicolor dining hall via a super-sized Louis Vuitton steamer trunk. And Naomi wasn’t the only vintage glamazon there, as Cindy Crawford and Linda Evangelista also reared their beautifully ageless mugs.

In sky-high heels and oversized black patent corset belt, Courtney Love strived for her own warrior fashion princess statement. But the sight of the insanely dapper Pharrel Williams and Nigo (of Bathing Ape fame) mixing it among...

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L.A.’s Fashion Awards: The Tardy, The Tasteless and The Very Talented

Running 80 minutes late and long and with Mayor Villaraigosa among the determined, albeit famished audience who stuck it out until the final prize, the Los Angeles Fashion Awards proved as much an evening of pride as chagrin.
Attendees, mostly friends and employees of those honored in the five categories, emptied the hall in vast numbers as their reason for being there wrapped up and their patience was tested. Rude? Yes. But it became increasingly tough to blame them with each lengthy barrage by a presenting sponsor. Someone needs to pay for this thing. We get it. But it was all too much between Saturn’s drawn-out trailer and requiring a car—a car!—on stage, and the onslaught of logos and presenters explaining what they do ad nauseam (that would be you Supima Cotton guy) before releasing the winning name. Host Debbie Matenopoulos had to endure an unreceptive audience and her lively spontaneity saved a few rough technical spots, and that had to be stressful.
But the audience had to endure vulgar jokes and a bit of profanity from her and that just seemed out of place (some of it didn’t even relate to fashion, so what was the point?). It’s unfortunate, too, because the nominees this year are among...

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Pink Lemonade with Olivier Theyskens

“I know there are women here who appreciate these kinds of clothes,” Olivier Theyskens told me yesterday, as Couture Cares, the annual fashion luncheon benefiting the Revlon/UCLA Breast Cancer Center, drew to a close. “They like the tall, lean silhouette, the edge and that it’s a little dark.” Given the share of the sold-out crowd couldn’t be further from his ideal (a few even managed to feign an even more stunned appearance than their usually botoxed faces already appear), Olivier’s insight is gleaned from his previous visits to L.A., usually managed under the radar. The major charity event also seemed to fly below radar for the bold-face brigade. Here’s one of the most significant new talents in fashion sharing every look of his lauded Nina Ricci collection presented in Paris two weeks ago, and only Amber Valetta and Rebecca deMornay to spark the photographers’ flashes?
Granted, Reese Witherspoon--who’s undergone nothing short of a makeover thanks to her “relationship” with Theyskens and the French house since appearing on the Golden Globes red carpet in January in that strapless canary yellow dress—is off promoting her latest film. But couldn’t she jet into town for the day to support the house, and the cause? And where were the rest of his purported celeb fans who live in the area?
Not that there weren’t plenty of appealing...

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Raising Kayne

Adding shopkeeper to her already impressive career curve, 25-year-old designer Jenni Kayne’s new West Hollywood digs is the kind of store you want to live in. At least that was the consensus among the three dozen or so friends—including Ashley and Mary-Kate Olsen, Alison Lohman, Anthony Kiedis, Anna Getty, Rebecca Gayheart and Mia Kirshner--who tucked in along three long tables for a family-style dinner at the pre-opening party last Friday night. (Unlike other designers who resort to swag to ensure a celeb’s attention, Jenni actually grew up here in L.A. with many of her bold-face fans.)

Ammo’s exec chef Amy Sweeney oversaw the menu of salads, roast veggies, sliced Niman ranch steak and lavendar ice cream, and that’s all a few--weary of a long week of fashion shows and fashion parties--needed to stay on beyond cocktails.
The 2,400-square-foot space, off the beaten Melrose track on North Almont Drive and next door to cool M+B gallery, boasts a “green” schematic, Kayne’s husband Richard Ehrlich pointed out in between courses. The insulation is denim, the paint eco spec, the lighting is either sky window or fluorescent and slats of Douglas fir cover the ceiling of the former warehouse. A monitor (ok, not so green, but a necessary sales element) flashing Jenni’s New York presentations hangs behind a counter filled with Tom Binns and vintage Paco Rabanne jewelry. Architect Jeff Allsbrook of Standard Architecture + Design and pulled it all off in six weeks time. He's also doing the newlywed's home. “The walls were still being painted at 4 o’clock today!” admitted Jenni. “You can’t even smell it,” countered Mary-Kate. “It’s beautiful in here.”
In the back, a thoughtful selection of art tomes of Ed Ruscha, Gerhard Richter and Jean-Michel Basquiat and flasks of L’Artisan fragrances are stacked among Jenni’s signature line of flats and heels. But it’s her clothes, exhibited here in full and on fat wooden hangers, that is the store’s raison d’etre. “It’s all here,” Jenni pointed out, pulling on a short black patent trench her mother arrived in earlier in the evening. These are, after all, the kind of clothes that defy age and are more about a woman's style. The shop isn't the only card in the deck for the young designer. This is the perfect showcase to introduce baby and men’s wear, she noted. A full house, indeed.

A Legend Finally Gets His Due: The Walk of Style Honors James Galanos

“Jimmy was due this a long time ago,” stressed former First Lady-in-red Nancy Reagan over desert, regardind the award finally conferred her long-time friend and dress designer James Galanos. While I used to heatedly debate my dearly departed dad over his love for the Reagans, it was tough to resist the grand doyenne. Agree with her actions or not, she always lived, and dressed, according to her own rules.

The luncheon last Thursday, on the terrace at the Beverly Wilshire Four Seasons Hotel, followed a ceremony inducting Galanos onto the Rodeo Drive Walk of Style. And why shouldn’t Mme. Regan (who actually turned up in the darkest blue suit custom made by her friend) appear slightly vexed? Some 10 honorees preceded the American fashion legend—including Tom Ford, Edith Head, Herb Ritts, Gianni and Donatella Versace this last spring, and the inaugural inductee Giorgio Armani. The award recognizes those who’ve made a significant impact intersecting the entertainment and fashion worlds. But if the shy Mr. G. shared her feelings, he’d didn’t let up. “At first, I didn’t know...

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L.A. Fashion Week: Cartier and Pals Toast A to Zoe

With the book now in stores and the promo tour underway, the final chapter on the style guide I did for Rachel Zoe finally reaches closure. I think. At least that was the mantra with every clink of Champers on the rooftop of the Cartier flagship on Rodeo Drive last night. The jewelry house rolled out the red carpet for the book launch, complete with the house’s dashing ceo and president Frederic De Narp playing host and DJ AM playing the turntables. Djimon Honsou, Kimora Lee, Joy Bryant and Emmy Rossum turned up for the party, which was not the only game in town. It competed with another rooftop bash just across the way at Chanel. So, too, another down the street at Saks for Christian Louboutin, and the Jeremy Scott after-show party at the Roosevelt Hotel. (A few Energizer bunnies hit them all!)
Still, a steady stream of well wishers poured in--including contributors to the book, such as hair stylist Andy LeCompte and makeup artist Paul Starr--and the outdoor setting couldn’t be more gorgeous, what with all the chandeliers lighting up the night. Having gone ga-ga just the day before over a long black gown in J.C. Obando’s presentation, the young designer burned the midnight oil and whipped up one of my very own. Felt a little like Maria Callas in it. Overall, though, this evening was about my younger sister Blanca Apodaca, who doesn’t typically spend her evenings at these kinds of frothy functions, but deserved being feted as much as anyone else here--her illustrations give the otherwise photo-heavy book a sense of texture. Cartier was so smitten with her work that it consigned a drawing of the iconic panther ring to print on the stationery that everyone received at the end of the night. On the back: Blanca Apodaca for Cartier. That made this whole crazy ride worth it.

[One of the very few book signings happens next Thursday, Oct. 25 at Barnes & Noble at The Grove in L.A.]

L.A. Fashion Week: Paul Smith Nails It, CFDA sails it, and Katy Rodriguez Tails it All

Never mind the fashion shows. What’s dominating the calendar this week are the parties, upwards of three or four worthwhile fetes each night. Tuesday’s trifecta began (at least for us) at Morton’s in West Hollywood, where the Council of Fashion Designers of America teamed up with InStyle and Net-a-Porter to launch the worldwide initiative of the CFDA’s Fashion Targets Breast Cancer campaign. Natalie Massenet, the innovative founder of Net-a-Porter.com, came in for the event from London, where she now lives. But it’s L.A. where she grew up. “I’ve got so many friends to visit when I make it here, and I can never stay for long,” she said. New York-centric CFDA is hoping to make more friends in L.A., too, which is why it staged the event here.Next stop was just up the street, on Melrose Avenue, to the giant pink box that is the Paul Smith emporium. Sir Paul also swooped into town for the night. But he capped a day of rallying the team and touching up the store with a film screening of the 1986 cult fave “Withnail & I”—in the parking lot. The space was converted into a chic living room al fresco, with all kinds of clear plexi and black woven furnishings, candy filling mirrored bowls and, thankfully, plenty of heaters. There was also outrageous nonstop Brit fare from Patina.
The film is crazy good with crazy British style (Andy even teased Sir Paul following the film that now he knew where he got the inspiration for most of the line. Paul loved the comment.) The crowd, most who stayed through the entire screening, was just as great:

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L.A. Fashion Week: J.C. Obando’s Case Study

So much of what passes on the runways this week doesn’t warrant such a production. So it’s even more refreshing when a designer who could support a catwalk option, opts out for the sober, intimate showcase of a private dining room, a limited guest list and an edited selection of 13 looks, simply displayed on 13 glossy white mannequins. Juan Carlos Obando forwent the officially sanctioned program at Smashbox this season for a salon-style showing and lunch at Craft, and to great effect. “Top Chef” Tom Colicchio’s new dining hall next to CAA is also a skip from J.C.’s HQ, so the spaces served as a kind of living room for the designer. The dresses, however, demanded an evening out on the town. There was something reminiscent of James Galanos in the modern elegance of these mostly silk-cashmere blend, mostly black, cognac and café gowns, as well as in the way they were displayed. The collection was an exercise in draping for J.C., who underscores the point by noting that he did not enlist a pattern maker and that he crafted it alone. As for production, he recently secured a small atelier of highly skilled seamstresses in a town outside his native Bogotá that is supervised by his mother, her self a veteran of the apparel industry there.

Calling the collection his Case Study N. 7, he provided each of the two-dozen guests who attended Tuesday’s lunch with a thick, bounded script-like packet illustrating inspiration as far ranging as a doorbell and the sample packaging for a David Lynch organic espresso cup. It all evidently charged at least one lady at the lunch—a private client who booked about $20,000 worth of looks (that would be five dresses, he pointed out).

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Meet the Woman Who Busts our Lust for Luxe

Journalist Dana Thomas is back in Los Angeles this week for another round of readings and signings for her bestselling “Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster.”
Just a month ago during dinner in the Chateau Marmont garden, she was announcing to friends and family that the book—which chronicles the rise and democratization of modern luxury—hit the New York Times Best Seller List.
If you haven’t read it yet, do. Even if you’re not the kind to care about the latest “It” bag, the book is a fast, irresistible read about a major economic and cultural force that, for better or worse, makes the world go round. Luxury goods are a $157-billion industry, with 35 brands responsible for 60% of the business, writes Dana, a Newsweek correspondent based in Paris. She shifts from hard and straight journalistic reporting to personal anecdotes--witnessing the painstaking steps in crafting a Kelly bag at the Hermès workshop outside Paris to going on a police raid of an apartment in China filled with child workers gluing together designer fake bags. Bernard Arnault of LVMH Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton doesn’t fare well in her reporting. Nor do several other characters in this drama. But then real life always makes a more compelling read than fiction.

Dana will read from her book and sign copies beginning at 7 p.m. Wednesday, Oct. 17, at Book Soup, 8818 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood.

Claxton + Moffitt Go Another Lap Around the Sun

The height of chic remains lensman William Claxton and muse Peggy Moffitt, who marked their 80th and 70th birthdays, respectively, with a jazzy celebration this weekend hosted by Benedict and Lauren Taschen, completely filling Dominick’s in West L.A.
With pals Burt Bacharach and vintage guru Cameron Silver, art pioneer Irving Blum and Phoenix Art Museum curator Denita Sewell, this was one swellegant entry for the books. Platters of oysters kicked off the family-style supper, and a jazz quartet kept the mood pulsing, inspiring a still foxy Stefanie Powers (that’s right, Mrs. Hart to Hart) to rise up and share a song.
Wed since 1960, and together two years before that, these two living icons unequivocally changed the way we all think of the birth of cool—from Bill’s indelible photographs of jazz greats Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Billy Holiday, Dizzy Gillespie and many others, to Peggy’s signature kabuki-styled makeup and severe Vidal Sassoon hair cuts which defined the 1960s look and still looks as fierce as ever.
A third innovator to this team, of course, was designer Rudi Gernreich. The vision of his futuristic clothes was purely realized by Peggy’s theatrical poses and Bill’s graphic eye. An enormous marble birthday cake featuring a doll-like figure of Bill pointing his camera at one of his famous pics of Peggy, striking a pose in Rudi’s cloche and smock, said it all.
Bill, of course, hasn’t exactly retired despite his years. A new generation of musicians and actors have been lining up to get their moment in front of his lens, thanks in part to the Taschens, who’ve published new volumes of Bill's work and re-issued the now collectible book of his Steve McQueen snapshots from the ’60s. Their dapper son Christopher Claxton keeps careful custody of the archives.
Both Bill and Peggy continue to make the rounds, when it matters, sitting at Karl Lagerfeld’s table when he was in L.A. earlier this summer or hitting a cocktail fete for a friend. They always cut an inspiring profile, and always give good talk. We want to be them when we grow up.

L.A. Fashion Week: Villaraigosa, Vibiana's and Another Vision

Never mind that film drives the machine of Los Angeles, both in terms of employment and image. The arrival of Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa at the BOXeight-hosted fashion-week showcase at St. Vibiana's last night was enough to shut down the last two minutes of celluloid being enjoyed by the packed house in attendance. Tony was in the house to see a fashion show, and that's what he was going to get!

Not that it was the fault of the Mayor, whose stop served as an official sanction of fashion week returning to the city of Los Angeles. That's right, kids, Culver City, where the tents go up at Smashbox Studios counts only as L.A. County. Nor were Diane Pernet or Dino Dinco to blame for running late with the first part of their brilliant program, "You Wear It Well." The world-traveling fashion-film fest premiered last night before it goes global, with a juried selection of shorts masterminded by the likes of Maison Margiela, Nick Knight and Gareth Pugh (more on that later with an interview with Mme. Pernet).

The organizers pulled the plug. The schedule had spun out of control, unfortunately, and continued to as the already ridiculous midnight time slot for Bohemian Society pushed well beyond the patience of even the most patient reviewer (I was long in bed by then).

Despite this, and despite the uneven shows by Louis Verdad and Eduardo Lucero (the presentation that demanded the Mayor's attention), the first night of BOXeight was a promising exercise. Getting there was a snap. Leaving, stress free thanks to all the reasonably priced parking just steps from the front entrance. Outside of the schedule issues, the production was as it should be expected in an industry town with the resources. The crowd--many who paid for the privilege of being there--was manageable and reasonable. Whether they actually provided a business opportunity for the designers outside of branding is another matter. But the people watching kept us entertained in between the highlights.

Then again, this downtown former cathedral-turned-event space has the power to cast a gorgeous glow on just about anything. And it was all worth the priceless view of watching Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa seated just across the aisle from Bobby Brown, who'd apparently suffered a heart attack only the day before, during Lucero's show. Now that's entertainment.