Elle Canada - The Elle Word

My aunt, whom I’m named after, had exquisite taste in fashion. A huge supporter of the theatre, she appreciated the role that fashion played in creating drama—both on and off the stage. When we visited her home, I often made my way to her closet to look at her clothes and shoes. When I was much older, I realized that the shoes I most coveted were a pair—or at least a spectacular imitation—of Roger Vivier’s “pilgrim buckle” shoes. After Catherine Deneuve wore a pair in the 1967 movie Belle de jour, the shoes were renamed in the film’s honour. They went on to become one of the most iconic shoe styles of the ’60s. Everyone from Jacqueline Onassis to Marlene Dietrich were photographed in them.

I hadn’t thought about my Aunt Noreen’s shoes until I attended the Bata Shoe Museum’s opening gala this week for its new show, Roger Vivier: Process to Perfection. Vivier had designed the pilgrim buckle shoes to accompany Yves Saint Laurent’s autumn 1965 collection—in particular, the now iconic Mondrian dress. Several pairs are on display, along with 60-plus other artifacts on loan from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Deutsches Ledermuseum in Germany and Roger Vivier Paris, as well as Bata’s own collection.

A "pilgrim buckle" shoe from Roger Vivier, c. 1965

It’s the first exhibit in North America to showcase Vivier’s work, and it’s one that the museum’s senior curator, Elizabeth Semmelhack, says was years in the making. “When I was first hired at the museum, Mrs. Bata spent a great deal of time showing me the treasures in the collection,” explains Semmelhack. “This included 88 pullovers that Vivier created for Christian Dior. They were beautiful; they were sculptural, but I didn’t fully understand their significance. A few years later we acquired 63 of Vivier’s original unpublished illustrations. Now we had the pullovers, the illustrations and a nice selection of shoes; we were ready for an exhibit.”

The focus, however, isn’t only on the shoes. Semmelhack also wanted to highlight the man and his innovations. “Vivier was fascinated by different heel types,” she explains. “There was the choc, the New Style, the comma and, of course, the needle heel—or stiletto, as it is now called.” Semmelhack says she doesn’t prefer one heel over any other, but she is fascinated with how Vivier worked with negative space to create architecturally balanced and elegant lines. “He was able to get away with ornamentation and embellishment because the architecture of the shoes kept them from becoming too nostalgic or too twee.”

What was his next “breakout” shoe? Read on.

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Rock a headband while listening to Grouplove at Coachella this year. Photo courtesty of Autumn De Wilde

Dear beaded, fringed and tie-dyed headbands,

Have you checked your hipster-calendars recently? It’s finally Coachella, this weekend! Or Headband-New Year, as we call it. Sure, people are excited about the music—after all, between Florence and the Machine, The Black Keys and The Weeknd, the lineup is killer this year. But I? I’m more excited about watching your sartorial displays jazz up the desert valley landscape.

Because, dear headbands, it just wouldn’t be Coachella without you.

I remember when I first saw you years ago, pressing down on the vaguely rumpled hair of Nicole Ritchie… or was it Kate Bosworth? Sure, her cut off distressed shorts and shorty moccasin boots were perfect for standing in a field listening to The Killers (and other circa 2009-hipster bands), but without your bedazzling, she might as well have been naked.

Because how else would waif-like girls who are kinda into music (or at least really into getting their picture taken at festivals) let people know that they are “free spirits”? Without your ability to make a socialite look like a flower child, we would be lost. Or at least less able to guess if someone lives in L.A. (or wishes they did). Besides, without you—sweet headbands made of leather, beads, feathers or even shoelaces for the very advanced—Instagram would be a barren wasteland of bare-headed freaks. No one wants to live in that world. That world probably doesn’t even have Pinterest.

So this weekend, while a swarm of tanned Free People-clad chicks sway to Bon Iver and Dragonette, I’m excited to see you out for a full 72-hours of forehead-denting glory. Preferably covered in feathers and PBR-tinged sweat.

So thanks for your hard work, headbands. And we’ll see you next year.

Or the next time we see Ke$ha.

Sincerely yours,
K

It was fitting that my first and last Paris Fashion Week events were with Canadian designer Nicolas Andreas Taralis. It’s the sort of symmetry that Taralis—and I, for that matter—finds rather poetic. My first encounter with the now Paris-based designer was at his runway show. In an earlier blog, I talked about the collection’s hand-tailored rigour and how its monk-punk, karate-chic looks featured classic gi and obi detailing.

When I met up with Taralis on Friday morning at his showroom, I had a chance to take a closer look at both the designs and the designer. In person, Taralis is very much a reflection of his work: sombre, thoughtful and layered. (That was even before I knew his favourite musician was Ben Frost—a master of minimalist, post-punk, black metal and noise.) Before launching his own label a few years ago, Taralis studied under Helmut Lang, worked with Hedi Slimane and was, for a time, head designer at Cerruti.

I opened our chat by asking him about his inspiration for the collection. This line of questioning typically moves a designer into a storytelling mode—not so with Taralis. “I’m actually rather matter-of-fact about the whole thing,” he said. “You won’t hear stories about my inspirations. There’s no muse. It’s mostly intuitive and emotional; it’s not directly inspired by anything. At the most, I’m quite interested in Asian aesthetics—particularly Japanese. There’s a purity there that is very interesting to me. I have an appreciation for straight, strict lines, harmonies and symmetries and angular and rectangular shapes—it’s something very natural for me.”

Find out what new design Taralis introduced into his work this year, and get a glimpse into his head with our Proustian-inspired questionnaire. Given that he’s known for his use of black, his association with the colour pink may surprise you. Read on!

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I was minding my own business at the opening of the Louis Vuitton Marc Jacobs exhibit in Paris, when suddenly I found myself in the middle of a full-on French air-kissoff with Hamish Bowles, Vogue’s editor-at-large, and a gaggle of Botoxed, pinched and pulled society ladies. I wasn’t actually the one doing the social cheek-to-cheek dance; I was the one being pushed aside so that the “love-ya-mean-it” ritual could take place. The scene at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs Wednesday night was New York chic meets Parisian cool. Everyone from Lee Radziwill to Sarah Jessica Parker and Gwyneth Paltrow to artist Takashi Murakami, who collaborated with the house for a line of handbags in 2003, were there to pay tribute to the man who has dressed—or worked with—them.

So, what was the exhibit like? And did I kiss-kiss with Sarah? Click here. Read the rest of this entry

Canadian catwalk darling Kate King isn’t doing as many shows this season—and that’s just the way she likes it. I caught up with the Toronto native (and our February cover girl!) backstage at the Loewe collection during Paris Fashion Week.

“How many shows have I done this season?” she asks rhetorically. “I couldn’t tell you. I know last season beat this one, and that’s not a bad thing,” she says as a makeup artist touches up her flawless skin. “It’s been a little more relaxing, which is what I needed. There have been fewer shows but better ones, I think.”

This is her third season on the catwalk; she appeared in nearly 60 spring/summer 2012 shows.

“Each season I get a bit more comfortable on the runway,” says King. “I’m getting to know everybody backstage better.”

Here at PFW, she has already helped showcase the Lanvin anniversary collection, as well as Viktor & Rolf’s collection.

“[Lanvin] had a real energy,” says King. “It was amazing. Everybody was excited and celebrating Alber [Elbaz, who is marking 10 years as the label’s main designer] and what he has done with the brand.”

All that pressure, all that attention—with a model’s slip on the runway during Buenos Aires Fashion Week going viral, there’s got to be pressure, right?

“No, not really,” she smiles. “I can’t even think of one moment where it was too crazy. I’m having a really laid-back season. It’s been good.”

Celebrities are a little like dogs. No, not in the way you may be thinking. What they share with lovable little furry creatures is that they can spark conversations between strangers. Case in point: Tilda Swinton at Haider Ackermann’s fall/winter show in Paris on Saturday.

“Oh, look, is that Tilda?” my seatmate turns to me. “The yellow light from the chandelier makes her face look like it morphs into her hair.”

“Yes, I agree,” I reply. “Is she here with the boyfriend or the husband?”

“The boyfriend. He’s behind her—the guy with the beard.”

Having bonded over Tilda, we introduce ourselves and start chatting about Ackermann, the real reason we’re here. It turns out that James Webster is a London-based sculptor and a friend of fashion A-listers like Ackermann and Roland Mouret. (Tilda who?)

While designers often cite artists as muses, Webster tells me he’s inspired by Ackermann and Mouret because of their mastery with draping, sculptural folds and colours.

“Roland doesn’t draw,” explains Webster. “He works on mannequins, so it’s all about the folding of the cloth around the human body. I’m fascinated by how he blends the colours, patterns and embroidery so that it falls or sits on a specific part of a woman’s body.”

“And Ackermann?” I ask. “Have you seen his shows before?”

Find out why he’s hooked on Ackermann. Click here.

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Isabel Marant opened her show to the stylized sounds of one of Johnny Cash’s anthems. This season, the boho designer—clearly “bound by wild desire”—seems to have fallen into a sartorial “Ring of Fire.” It was hee-haw haute. The muse: Deadwood-inspired couture cowgirl. Highlights: Signature silk-yoked blouses, suede body-con cropped pants, short ruffled skirts and kickin’ embroidered stiletto cowboy boots. Embellishments: Fringe, tassels, ruffles, lace and laser-cut detailing. Standout piece: Cowgirl silk shirtdress.

At Sonia Rykiel, the mood was more kicked back than kickin’. April Crichton’s collection was cozy and understated, with echos of a ’40s menswear vibe. The muse: Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca. Highlights: Knits in boxy but sexy silhouettes, peachy-orange and teal hues and sheer dresses with delicate ruching details and an even more delicate pattern. Standout piece: The gently muted orange puffy cocoon jacket.

What did Yohji Yamamoto do that was so charming and unexpected? Click here. Read the rest of this entry

Nicolas Ghesquière had me the minute we entered the renovated Tour Cristal offices and were met by an army of silent guards in “beam-me-up” space-age, equestrian-like fashions. A member of the “Balenciaga army” ushered us into the elevator, and we ascended in silence to the empty 27th floor. The runway, which was lit with embedded miniature neon tubes, was lined with Warren Platner stools—one of my mid-century faves. The classic grey cushions on the iconic stools matched the foggy view of the Eiffel Tower and the creamy dove grey of my Cityscape Shellac-coated nails (which are holding up beautifully, by the way). Oh, the fashions…yes, they were amazing too! Ghesquière chose this corporate setting to showcase his playful spin on workwear at his imagined “Balenciaga Inc.” It’s a flexible dress code—depending on your mood. It had everything from ’80s rock ’n’ roll cocoon-shaped sweat tops to party-girl bustiers to campy parachute-silk jumpsuits.

Check out Ann Demeulemeester’s gothic night birds and Olivier Rousteing’s Russian-inspired excess at Balmain. Click here.

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My first show at Paris Fashion Week featured Canadian designer Nicolas Andreas Taralis. It was 1 p.m. but the crowd was dressed in midnight shades from head to toe. The mood was seriously subdued in an über-intellectual sort of way. “If you think there’s a lot of people dressed in black here, just wait until the Margiela show—there, it’s all ’till death do us part,’” laughed my seatmate, a former assistant to John Galliano. Taralis is known for his stoic and strict sensibility. He brought that hand-tailored rigour to this collection creating looks that were karate-punk chic with classic gi and obi detailing. The jackets, with their asymmetrical lines, were dramatically restrained but wearable. The sheer skirts, not so much. The transparent vulnerability was in pronounced contrast to the powerful—and protective looking—jackets and tops. Perhaps it was his Gōjū-ryū (hard-soft) karate-style approach to fashion. Beauty note: Loved the kabuki-style lips and ponies, which were wrapped in silk and lying flat on the head.

Gareth Pugh—another designer not known for his light fashion touch—both literally and metaphorically—turned out a collection for a modern gothic cavewoman. Click here to see what look M.A.C makeup artist Alex Box created for the show.

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It doesn’t matter where you live–or how “well” you live—it’s a universal truth that women take pleasure in simple beauty rituals. That became especially clear to me earlier this year after I spent two weeks in the Colombian town of Leticia participating in a volunteer eye mission. I was in the heart of the Amazon—500 miles from the nearest road. The only way into this frontier town is by airplane or by boat. At the makeshift clinic, which we set up in a local school, we were able to treat 5,828 patients in 10 days. Just under 200 people required eye surgery, while the majority received donated prescription glasses.

It’s a rare experience to visit a foreign place and have the privilege of connecting with people in a personal and meaningful way. I’ve been on these volunteer trips before to Colombia and Bolivia and each time I am humbled by my encounters—in part because they make me take stock of my life.

That said, it is a mistake to think that caring for one’s appearance, or wanting to indulge in a little beauty therapy, is only a first-world flight of fancy. After just a few hours on the first day, I began to notice that the women—who came from the nearby Brazilian town of Tabatinga or other Peruvian and Colombian villages several “river-boat days” away—were mad for nail art.

 Read more about my Amazon eye adventure.

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