Tamara Cincik

Coco Chanel at 18 Place Vendome.

Last week saw me in Marrakech and the Atlas Mountains, this week I trip-hopped over to Paris for a shoot for Harper’s Bazaar China with the lovely and talented Alan Gelati at the Chanel jewellery boutique’s private space above the store on the Place Vendome.  Gazing out across the square to the Ritz on the otherside, or poring over the amazing designs, yet again I appreciated just how clever Coco Chanel was.  The jewellery from 80 years ago still seem utterly modern, with diamonds set to look like the cobbles of her childhood orphanage home, the cleverest of fastenings, her myth tied into their very design.

My Mother and Baby Last Week at My Allotment.

Browsing the Nowness website last week, I chanced upon the blog and work of New Yorker Ari Seth Cohen.  He has spent the past few years photographing, partying and celebrating those more foxy than silver, more Iris Apfel than shrinking violet; more likely to dye their hair violet than give up their love of sartorial charm and swagger.  Given I have been raised by my own hot rocker mother, a woman whose mantra is ‘darling never give up’, and whose pilates-flexed limbs mean like her mind she is forever young, I too celebrate all that is wise, yet fun, fabulous, yet proud of the lessons learnt by these charming stylistas.

Most of whom are a generation+ older than my mother, yet never forget that more is more and a dash of lipstick, a pair of red trousers or a quirky felt fedora add colour, passion and texture to everyone’s day.  I like the feeling that the best is yet to come and we can all still have fun and play with fashion: sometimes we are told it all stops at 30, taking a look at these portraits and knowing my mother and the woman she is yet to become, I can only say, ‘oh really?’

Iris Apfel: 80+ and still upholding the more is more mantra.

We have Mary Portas revitalising the high street and Channel 4 with her new shop (and the tv programme Mary Queen of Shops tie-in) for the 40+ woman at House of Fraser, proudly defying women to be in their power and purchase what really works for them.  At the Paris Fashion Week shows this week, it really struck me as I gazed covetously at the Chloe catwalk, that these were the kind of clothes I would love to wear, without worrying something or too much was hanging out, while yet feeling I was in the room with enough of a fabulous quota for me to feel stylish enough that I could hold my head a little higher, my shoulders a little straighter: as I do when I feel good…

Kinga walking the Chloe Catwalk SS12

‘Young woman you’re going to be an old woman some day; don’t worry about it, don’t sweat it, everything adds character’…  Ari Seth Cohen’s book is due out next Spring.  Amazon are already offering advance order reservations: and who said past 50 women are invisible?..

She's Amazing: I styled this lady for Sunday Times Style in emeralds and YSL: over 80, she had been modelling for 60 years and somehow was the most beautiful woman in the room.

Going through my own archive I found this shot from a story for Sunday Times Style with Kim Andreolli.  Bedecked in emeralds and YSL, this mother of all models, who had been in the game for more than a lifetime, said that her daily dose of yoga kept her young, flexible and alert.  I celebrate both her beauty and the hope that with a little yogic discipline we all can aim to reach so high for so long…

http://advancedstyle.blogspot.com/

http://www.nowness.com/day/2011/3/23/1382/advanced-style-age-and-beauty

http://www.amazon.com/Advanced-Style-Ari-Seth-Cohen/dp/157687592X

http://www.maryportas.com/

Christian Lacroix's Arles Wallpaper 'Vuelta' for The Designer's Guild.

Oh my, my old mentor Monsieur Lacroix’s lyrical magical hand once more lights my heart.  Ooh la la Lacroix, I LOVE this wallpaper cacophany of colour which he has designed for more reasons than I can say: decorative maximalist perfection.

http://www.designersguild.com/

John Galliano: Aka the Deposed King of the Catwalk

The fashion world and tabloids alike have been alive with the sorry tale of John Galliano’s drunken anti-semitic rants.  It seems that repeatedly over recent months, Galliano has been sitting alone in the corner of a Marais bar, where after a few drinks he’s taken to pouring venom and anger at anyone who would listen.  Being a bitchy queen on a I hate ugly people tip is one thing; displaying anti-semitic beliefs is quite another.  The off with his head reaction of Sidney Toledano, Head of the House of Christian Dior, has been swift in it’s verdict: Galliano has been dismissed from the House this week, along with a terse statement regarding ‘his odious behaviour’.  A man given to overcoming his demons with ritualised routines of gym, gym, gym, at a guess, I would suggest he had been slacking for a while at the office: such behaviour is never isolated and indicates instead a total breakdown.

This whole story makes me feel extremely sad: only a year after Alexander Mcqueen’s suicide, somehow fashion has shown it’s ugly sister side.  Both designers were fashion’s Cinderellas: boys from London council estates made good, whose talent and hard work, won them great deserved accolades.  Both clearly alone, isolated, removed from reality and driven to the most tragic of conclusions.

Given that Mrs Burstein from Browns has always been cited and celebrated by Galliano for launching his career, that Sidney Toledano worked with him at Dior and even that the brand recently chose Natalie Portman to be the face of its latest perfume campaign, I find it hard to believe that in his heart he is truly anti-semitic; he always seemed so courteously aware of how far his career had been served and helped by people of the Jewish faith.  Anyone who has been to his shows, will remember that each season, he always takes a catwalk bow in Mrs. Burstein’s direction, in homage to her support.  An individual’s personal/inner racism is always hard to comprehend and certainly these catcalling rants are ugly, unnecessary and horrid; made all the more ridiculous by the fact that none of the people shouted at, were in fact Jewish.  As the Marais is the traditional Jewish quarter, from where so many people were marched to the camps by the Nazis in the war, of course only adds to our revulsion.

Mrs. Burstein from Browns, who famously launched John Galliano's career, when she bought his whole graduation collection for the store.

However, it seems to me a pathetic cry for help: a man consistently regarded as one of the most courteous and talented in the industry, so lonely and removed from reality that he is striking out at strangers, while drunk alone in a bar.

Where were his friends?  Where were his colleagues?  Why was no one stopping him?  Why did noone feel that they could talk straight to him and stop all this?  Why does it seem that fashion’s few true geniuses are so lonely and disturbed that they act out: Mcqueen with his awful, lonely suicide; Galliano with these repeated career suicide racist rants.  Repeated behaviour to strangers: this would suggest that on a level he knew he would be caught out eventually.

Entering the Paris police station, mobbed by photographers, clearly not looking well...

Sidney Toledano is right to be disgusted, act quickly and dismiss John Galliano; it is not acceptable to behave like that.  No one is such a star that this is ok. But what worries me nearly as much is that the fashion industry inculcates such removed from reality madness in those at the top of the pile.  The very people we look up to: those who show true creative genius, seem to be those who most need the simple, nurturing support which us lesser mortals call a happy family life.  From the first shoot I assisted on where we shot one of his beautiful bias cut dresses for The Face, to a recent nomads story I styled for Please!, inspired by his brilliant AW10 show, Galliano’s work has consistently inspired my own, his shows always a Paris highlight.

Images from my recent Please! shoot, inspired by the John Galliano AW10 collection. Photographer: Thomas Lohr.

Sadly  it is these tacky, tragic lonely rants by someone clearly over the edge of a nervous breakdown and displaying all the tacky symptoms of a cliched racist, are how he will now be remembered.  I hope he gets the help he clearly needs to overcome these issues and his family and friends help him back to sanity.

John Galliano show AW10

Sonia Rykiel Show

I sincerely love a Sonia Rykiel show: the shoes are always wondrous, the colours, the left bank sense of fun with glamour: girls swaying in feathers in furry clogs, high five-ing down the runway, Love…

John Galliano show

Galliano was a visual feast, totally Tamara: he took us on a journey of trials, travels and traversed the Himalayas, the Hindu Kush: from the spice roads we went to the east of the sun, west of the moon…  He also showed us how great he is as a stylist, let alone as a designer, total inspiration.

John is the finale of his own show and sporting a fabulously chic sheepskin backpack is the most gloriously camp nomad I ever saw, ever - and ever shall I think!

The girls walked through sprays of silver glitter; John as the finale, came through seering white light, designer as devil or hero, he walked towards orange fire, posed, captured our imaginations and vanished.  Given his warm layers of sheepkin, wool and backpack at least one of us was dressed for the freezing weather which hit Paris this week!..

The chicest dessert I ever saw or tasted.

Imagine existing inside a Watteau painting with 7* service and culinary delights where sandalwood ice-cream coexists with thinly grated apple and ginger in the thinnest layer of pastry.  That was the dinner I enjoyed with my friend Konca at the Grand Vefour: http://www.grand-vefour.com/fr/restaurant.htm The considered absolutist chic quintessence of Parisian society was at it’s zenith.  There was more service, more grandeur and more is more decoration than anyone could ever indulge without slightly falling in love with it, however totally refined it is, there is such grace in it’s fabulosity, that even when I ordered off-menu a salad, the result was so utterly beautiful, artful and delicious, it was a moment of baroque heaven.  Built in 1760, the Grand Vefour is one of the world’s  first restaurants: Napoleon took Josephine, Colette ate there (which as I am reading ‘The Vagabond’, in  honour of Ellie) seemed wholly appropriate.  Visual artful 3D gourmand-luxe heaven.

The audience of lenses at Chanel

Glass gorgeousness

The work above the magic - yes that is an iceberg - welcome to the world of Chanel

Vanessa Paradis wears Coco red lipstick

Crystals and ice white bergs

Reflections in pools of icy water.

If and when the ice age cometh, we shall clearly be ok in our refuge of Chanel furs and fabulosity!..

Amanda Harlech dancing in the dj booth - like the London girl she clearly still is at heart.

To the tune of: 'I said captain, I said what?!'

The white album.

Sarah after Chanel, shows me her gorgeous new engagement ring from Richard, I am so so so happy for them both.

Photos I don’t have from this week, include the sheer clever joy that was the Victor and Rolf show, they really showed us how it’s done.  The Hussein show with his moving speech for Alexander, followed by Puritan caps and camel coloured capes with grey lining, worn with matching fedoras – a style I have been wearing this week myself.  The party at Maxims where my New Yorker friends lost themselves in the 80′s disco groove.  The Vogue Turkey party at the Crillon, where I caught up with dear friends from the Fatherland: albeit feeling rather underdressed, as I had put on all my warm clothes at once to go to Givenchy, as Paris is brrr-freezing.   I hope my shalwa joggers, Westwood boots, Marni jacket and Bora Aksu snood still managed to represent – I did love Catherine’s gold lame turban, Karen’s killer heels, Seda’s sassy red dress and Konca’s peach jacket.  The basement baseline Ricardo Tisci party: it was brilliant to see Charlotte Tilbury again, looking uber-hot beyond yummy-mummydom, showing us photos of her handsome baby son; where shoulder to shoulder glamour bumped with Olivier’s camera flash, low-key hiphop heroes.  Meeting Polina was lovely: we drank Japanese tea and paid homage to CC.

This is an inspiring season: the stark shapes with pared down strength: I am totally looking forward to my shoots this season.