Tamara Cincik

My husband – yes there is still a novel roll of the tongue each time I saw this, barely 7 months into our marriage – has promised to book us tickets for the 3D IMAX experience of Tim Burton’s ‘Alice’, on the next available day he has off from shooting the film he is working on.

Tim Burton's vision of Alice

Arthur Rackham's colour palette as sported by Johnny Depp's Mad Hatter

Helena Bonham Carter channelling Elizabeth 1st as the Red Queen

Helena Bonham Carter is a local resident and someone who though I love styling, I am glad doesn’t use one: her off-kilter reworkings of the Dior 1947 silhouette are gloriously garish in a world of good taste, I would mourn their passing, were she to change.  I love too, the idea of her, Tim and their children living in close proximity, sharing our air and views, with their lives of make-believe and creative dreams.  Were we to one day to become friends, I would naturally invite her to our allotment for a lunch of salad leaves and tomatoes, perhaps there we might catch a view of the running rabbit…

Alice is a girl for all times: the pre-pubescent questing naughty know-it-all at the dawn of her womanhood, the light side of the Poltergeist looking glass: searching for answers to the changes in her physicality and surroundings from riddles;  beset by ever-shifting realities and confronting the maturising truth. These trials are at the root of all rite of passage quests, from the Odyssey to Oz: that people and life is not as they seem, we cannot trust everyone.  Sometimes we have to step off the path ( the consistent Fairy Tale motif) to find the answers to our questings and questions.

I have grabbed together some of my favourite Alice images, I hope you shall enjoy them too.  Have a lovely weekend/Mother’s Day!

Tim Walker's Lily Alice

Arthur Rackham's Alice

Arthur Rackham is a huge influence on me: I love his sombre palette, weaving magic from dismal tones of Autumn malaise, he somehow manifests the eeriness of half-recollected dreams.  A shoot I styled for Purple once, was completely referenced in his work, and though that reference might not be obvious in the result, it laid a foundation baseline of colours and shapes for me to work with.

John Tenniel's original Alice

The first Alice illustrations were by John Tenniel: she looks a very moody girl!

Jan Svankmajer’s ‘Alice’ was a gold dust filmic find one night at the Scala when I was an undergraduate at UCL.

Alice as seen through the eyes of Jan Svankmajer

Jan’s take on Alice, echoes the work of that other famous Czech also called Jan, who I was lucky enough to work with once in Prague, Jan Saudek.  Czech was once called Bohemia: the essence of eccentricity is at the heart of their very DNA.

That awkward unsettling time between our new teenage self and the overpadded child body

I shot a story once with Serge Leblon, where he built an Alice set in his sitting room in Brussels: a mousehole gap between two worlds, sprinkled with muddy earth, mushrooms from the local gourmet shop, as Alice tore through, her red shoes and half her torso left on our side of the page.  I wish I could find it now, perhaps she is having too much fun on the other side of the Looking Glass…

Disney Alice aka the first time ever I saw her face...

Psychedelic cat - quite a thing to set before a crazed Red Queen

Return to the source: the real deal Alice - OF course she was a brunette! Alice Liddell, the girl who inspired Lewis Carroll

A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July–

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear–

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die.
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream–
Lingering in the golden gleam–
Life, what is it but a dream?

The Liddellettes

Pre-raphaelite, I am sure she wished like I she had torn down the rabbit hole and was as glad of all her adventures, trials though they are, as I am of mine.

FAIRYLAND, BUTTERFLIES & PINK SWEETS AT TAMARA & JEREMY’S SUFFOLK WEDDING OF THE YEAR!!! TEXT: TAMARA CINCIK.

one sunny day in suffolk (29th August 2009), i married my true love Jeremy in front of beloved friends and family.

i didn’t wear white, i wore a gorgeous creation by Roksanda, we were married twice: a civil, then buddhist blessing, we had butterflies and bunting everywhere, girls wore wings to be an honorary bridesmaid and the sun shone down on our love and collective smiles.
on our way from the civil wedding to the buddhist blessing under the tree festooned with evil eyes and handmade origami birds.

i wore a gorgeous dress by Roksanda Ilinicic, with a veil by hat maestro Stephen Jones and shoes by my mentor Christian Lacroix; Jeremy wore a suit and shirt by Kilgour, with a tie and handkerchief by Lanvin – work!!!!  Kenna did my hair, while the beauty Sarah Reygate worked make up magic on my face.

Saying our vows under the protection of the evil eye and dove tree.

Martin Aylward from the buddhist retreat centre Moulin des Chaves in France came to lead the blessing.

Marital smiles!

My two gorgeous bridesmaids Zoe and Anna wearing their fabulous Abilu hair pieces, designed (under my art direction!) perfectly for my beauties, Anna Trevelyan (of Dazed and Confused glory) wearing Bora Aksu, posies by Wild at Heart.

Alexia Somerville, Cynthia Lawrence-John and Karen Binns.

Entering the Tudor barn for the civil ceremony with my Babacim, being smiled at my the lovely Merryn Leslie.

Cheers and smiles for singer-songwriter Sukie Smith, who caught the bouquet.

mini fairyland fashionistas

admiring my beautiful ring – my great grandma’s customised by the gorgeous Vicki at Erickson Beamon.

The fete where we played in pink (hairdresser Kenna, Anna Trevelyan and I with singers Lauren Wilce and Sukie Smith) under perfect Constable cloud formation sunshine.

Pretty pastel fairy cakes and floral fabulosity.

The London Gypsy orchestra play traditional Turkish ‘halay’ music, accompanied by the chef on vocals from my cousin’s restaurant in Whitechapel Maedah (this is when things got geniusly random!), belly dancer Catherine Mobley dances with my father, while James Jeanette of shop ‘Jeanette’s’ dances the halay (handkerchief) dance, led by my father.  Anna channels her inner Super Fairyness, Nova Dando and Margot Bowman get down to the grooves of debuting super dj, Deejay Cheez aka Claudia Solti, with groupie Zoe Kennedy, over from Oz to shine her headphones.

take a chance on love and who knows what magic might await you in wonderland!

Tamara Cincik.

Michael from Blow had warned me that this was the most requested ticket on his roster of
shows this Fashion Week, so to get there early, which given they worked on 13 shows this
week, told me everything i needed to know: get there early! anyone who knows me, knows
this is a rare event in itself; luckily jeremy picked me up in the astra gypsy wagon from
Nazir’s show, where I had been so proud of what Anna (my ex assistant ‘Dolly’) Trevelyan
and Sam Voltage had achieved.
Heading East, Jeremy pointed out that in football terms last night was the ultimate
hotdate: the final of the Championships League, so we popped into the local Owl and the
Pussycat for a beer (him), juice (me) and football update,(0-0) when we left.
Marching through the throng at Beach Blanket Babylon, suddenly I knew what Berlin in the
1920′s must have felt like – the party at the end of the world and the finale of time ( a
huge inspiration for me aesthetically) – and now with the current climate, perhaps even
more relevant.
A visual overload of trannies in cocktail gowns, grannies dressed as Dracula, boys led on
chains and matriarchs in lingerie; glitterball fractals of decadence and revellery hit my
retina in every corner. Jeremy perhaps wondered why he had left the football, but I knew
that this is where the real action was. The stories from the audience fascinated me:
trannie gold medallist Jeanie D with 2 teeth and a spider on his head, Russella with her
glittery Dorothy shoe red lips, Pia naked save some masking tape and a peach fur coat, as
one glamazon told me, we’re a long way from Kansas now…
Jacquie Soliman from Agent Provocateur pronounced this the show we have been waiting for
and in a way she is right: one which announces London’s more underground, underbelly,
intent and content.
We’ll never be Paris, we aren’t couturiers, by showing in the Eastend, Johnny drew on
London’s sleazily Victorian past: opium dens and decadence, sexual freedom and dark
corners and translated these into rock and roll punk undeniable English freewheeling
beauty. A masked duo danced on the bar top, while the shows freely chaotic madness
unfolded: beautiful chiffon grey dresses, Betsy in a cape throwing roses and tarot cards
at the floor, boys in underwear, girls in jewels, Tamer swaying his hips in russet tones.
Patrick Wolff and Jodie Harsh sashayed from the floor onto the catwalk: the audience
became the show, we are all free, we are all theatre, we are all angels. Johnny would
say something like this and I am inclined to agree.
I said to Tamsin and Jessie, I am not sure Jeremy knows what to make of this, it’s
outside his frame of reference, Tamsin (a leading climate change activist) pointed out
that a lot of people want to be here; I replied, ‘Exactly, just as they did in Berlin.’
We laughed, we know, surely it’s better to enjoy the circus, celebrate the chaos, the
painful freedom of these random moments of madness, while the ship sinks, we may as well
enjoy the tunes of the band as we drown?..

Tamara Cincik – words
Jeremy Fusco – photos

www.houseofblueeyes.com

There he goes again... North London's answer to Rocky!

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