Now Barney’s is just f*cking with me.
The Medium Pony PS1 in bright orange pony hair. I, um, just wanted to tell you….that I love you.
Grey python PS1. This would UNDOUBTEDLY be the result of Elliot’s constant Lexapro deviation where we wander into the Everglades AFTER Basel and murder 12 anacondas, decide we LOVE python more and buy it at Harvey Nicks instead!
I wonder what he’s doing tonight?
Filed under: Musings
Elliot and I WILL NOT be there this year. But all these people will.
Jack from Salem: “I JUST WANT A JAPANESE BUSINESSMAN WITH A MONEY-SPENDING FETISH TO BUY ME A MATTE BLACK LAMBO”
Terence Koh: Jack is so hot.
[insert NYC socialite name]: This is SO not a New York party. I’m FRIENDS with him.
-Isabel Sigh
Filed under: Givenchy
I couldn’t resist. We’re launching a higher-end, in-print publication very, very soon and the content for Issue 1 is coming along swimmingly. So happy with this editorial shoot that I’m putting up a sneak peak. See you later alligator!
Photographer: Nick Remsen
Model: Robert Grunenberg
Story: To Be Told…
-Elliot
Filed under: Musings
It’s all ours.
Happy Thanksgiving and see you next week. Isabel and I are vacationing together and we won’t be back online until Monday Nov 28 (once the jet lag and hangovers wear off).
Until then, here’s Elliot as photographed in London on Regent Street. He’d show the one that was published in the Guardian, but it’s embarrassing and he looks like a big idiot (arguably if not definitely looks idiotic here too… this was a champagne hangover early morning kind of day for him). Go figure!
-Elliot and Isabel Sednaoui
Filed under: Versace
Images and words. I was there, in the thick of it, buying all sorts of fantabulous crocodiled and palm treed and leopardy things.
Donatella, behind glass. Lots of fanfare for this radiant creature. Prettier in person than expected. Allegra may or may not have been there.
The collection, for men at least, was actually kind of perfect! Campy and Miami in 1983 and seriously gay but, it would be ridiculous to expect anything else. I bought the coolest little punk-boy hat, replete with ornate goldfish, a beach scene, and a neon leopard. Not to mention Versace’s grecian trim signature. I love it and I won’t ever take it off.
Queuing began at 8PM the previous night. I interviewed one girl from Romania who had gotten there at 1AM. She wanted the next collaboration to be with Elie Saab, to which I faked an enthusiastic “Uh-huh! Yeah!” Elie Saab? What is wrong with you? Rumor has it Tom Ford is next…
Is he having eye-sex with me, or is he just really happy about that kaleidoscope shirt he’s about to purchase? Or might he be dreaming of his very own Casa Casuarina stocked with pool boys and Malibu and only-in-the-80′s mountains of cocaine and marble and disco balls? I’m quite sure ALL of these things are happening. Wow, images can really express so many words, can’t they?
All in all, such a fun morning. PS – adrenaline cures hangovers.
-Elliot
Filed under: Celine
Celine gets a proper smack down, via Parisian graffiti “artist” Kidult. Kid + adult = Kidult. I’m too tired to roll out any sass here, but, a picture for your time:
I actually like it! Bloggers speculate that “SK8″ refers to Celine’s S/S ad campaign (Daria photographed by Juergen carrying a skateboard). As if to say, “oh f*ck no Phoebe, you’re taking my subculture and bringing it to yours to make money. That’s f*cked up.” Come on, Kidult… skateboarding is lame to begin with. But aesthetically, I like it. Keep it up. This just reminded me – my friends in Miami had a Space Invader plaque stolen off their house last Basel… not sure the point of telling you that… but yeah. Call it vandalism, call it art, call it stupid, all I say is keep it up!
I made my own fashion-statement graffiti, it’s pretty good.
-Elliot Brainwash
Filed under: Musings
That I kind of have a zebra. Her name, obviously, is Zelda. She lives in Bedford and HATES it.
Oh also, I went on Friday night to look at photos of Terry Richardson’s parents in his ‘Mom+Dad’ exhibit (it runs from Novermber 11-December 4 at Half Gallery, 208 Forsyth Street). If there were a Real Housewives of the Lower East Side this would have been where the DRAMA happened. Photos and attendance.
-Isabel Lee Kershaw
Filed under: Musings
In the vein of miscellaneous, compulsive reporting, there is some actual fashion news. This couple below, recently featured in Russian Tatler (YES, read it) is pregnant. That means Carine Roitfeld is going to be a grandmother. Let that sink in…My grandmother, though she doesn’t wear Balmain leather pants or publish coffee table books featuring nude photographs of herself inside of her closet or sing karaoke at converted strip clubs, is the same…
I’m bored too, Julia. I get it.
Guess what the first Elliot and Isabel editorials are going to look like?
Look, this is the article. It’s in Russian. And it’s just brilliant.
ью-йоркская it girl Джулия Рестуан-Ройтфельд меняет наряды, но не мужчин: уже три года она хранит верность бойфренду Роберту. «Скажите спасибо Роберту: если бы его не было рядом, не видать вам того, что вы сейчас увидите», – говорит Джулия Рестуан-Ройтфельд, примеряя в люксе нью-йоркского отеля Lafayette House абсолютно прозрачный топ Louis Vuitton. За возможность увидеть ее полный третий размер Роберта можно и поблагодарить. Самая горячая парочка Нью-Йорка действует заодно и сообща.
-Isabel
Filed under: Musings
Whether or not these two are romantic or platonic (RJ and Andrej Pejic…), THEY CERTAINLY MAKE ONE QUESTION how cool/aesthetically pleasing one’s own friends or lovers are. I #canttell if Andrej will soon trend off in to “what was his name?” land or is he’s magic in the making. I don’t actually care, I just want to look this good in every photograph ever taken of me.
EDIT 1: Already, someone in the public space I am blogging from, leaned over and said, “that’s a pretty girl!” To those people unfamiliar, Andrej is a boy. From Croatia/Australia. A boy in make up and gowns. It’s annoying, I know, but it’s trendy and everyone is still talking about him/it. So just observe quietly and get back to your regular, non-fashion things.
-Elliot Kloss
