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Bitch Fight: CATHY HORYN (New York Times) vs. HEDI SLIMANE (Saint Laurent Paris)

 

Cathy Horyn is a very well known but bland fashion journalist with a huge network. She writes for the New York Times, arguably the most important daily newspaper written in Latin characters. During Berlin Fashion Week every designer would surely sell their mom and more just to have Horyn watch their show. Hedi Slimane on the other hand wouldn’t do jack shit.

The new Yves Saint Laurent Designer didn’t even invite Horyn to his show, a terrible offense in our industry.

Horyn obviously wasn’t amused and directly contacted Slimane’s Boss, PPR-President Francois-Henri Pinault. However, he also couldn’t really do anything, or just didn’t want to. So Horyn went ahead and just wrote the entire story down, spicing it up with a review of the show after having looked through all the photos. And this story, she just published on the New York Times Blog.

Please find below a couple of the best passages to gain some unique insight into the mutual dependency of designers and journalists.

 “There was also a smattering of star photographers, editors and models, like Kate Moss. But many front-row editors, to their disgruntlement, were given second- and third-row seats, and some, including an editor from Le Monde, had to stand. While a lot of journalists don’t really care where they sit, the lack of professional courtesy smacked of ignorance or arrogance.

I was not invited. Despite positive reviews of his early YSL and Dior collections, as well as a profile, Mr. Slimane objected bitterly to a review I wrote in 2004 — not about him but Raf Simons. Essentially I wrote that without Mr. Simons’s template of slim tailoring and street casting, there would not have been a Hedi Slimane — just as there would never have been a Raf Simons without Helmut Lang. Fashion develops a bit like a genetic line.

Anyway, Mr. Slimane insisted that he was the first to show the skinny suit. It was a silly debate. Who cares?”

At the end Horyn then adds the brutal criticism clearly insinuating that Slimane has been more concerned with blach and white photography than fashion.

 “Considering that Mr. Slimane was an avatar of youthful style, I expected more from this debut. I had the impression from the clothes of someone disconnected from fashion of the past several years.”

This is how entertaining the fashion industry can be. More please!

photo: nymag.com

Von: Jakob

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NEWS

 

IGGY POP: his first Design-Collaboration!

IGGY POP usually does not wear too much: skin-tight leather pants, with that his well-trained, plastic-like upper body. In case the rockstar Iggy gets cold, he puts on a leather jacket.

From now on, The Stooges front-man is going to be seen more wearing a vest. Because Iggy has designed a denim-vest with patches in cooperation with the label SAILOR JERRY. The punk-ish patches are delivered separately, so you can decide yourself which of Iggys hot patches fits you (the selection is: death, shall, triumph). A main inspiration were punks and especially the punkettes of the 70s in London and Los Angeles.

If you walk through the pedestrian zone in your home town, wearing an Iggy Pop THE FLASH vest, every Hells Angels member will freeze out of jealousy, promise. All in all there are 50 vests – each of them signed by hand by Iggy Pop personally. For one of Iggys vest you would have to spare 600 US Dollars.

The deal with Sailor Jerry has been arranged by Matt Sorum of Guns ‘N Roses. A band, which became famous in 90s for their extremely cool bandanas and stars and stripes leggings. The year before, Paul Simonon from The Clash has designed for Sailor Jerry.

Let’s see, which oldie-rockstar is in it the next time!

Von: Julian

LOOKBOOKS

SPECIAL

 

Dandy Diary Rat-Race

Next to the hard work here at DANDY DIARY, David and me are connected by many things: We were both into our black-haired economics-teacher and into Janine from the first row, we were both fans of BVB in the 90s, we both love the small 0,25 l Heineken-bottles and spicy vegan food, we both read the Spiegel on sundays and, and, and, and, and – there is much more. And: We both hate nothing more than rats.

Actually hatred is very understated. We have a huge fucking fear for them, that bad that David once jumped on the table of a restaurant, screaming, in Shanghai, because he saw a rat passing by, and I had to be aware of the attacks by my siblings, who would always kick against garbage bags in New York City and then rats would jump out, and most of the times cross my feet. Already looking at a rat causes a rigid barrier in us, even-though we are these hard fashion-guys, also high screaming, pure desperation and a few embarrassing jumps. One of us also has wetted himself once out of fear and shock. We will not tell who that was, out of fairness.

When we recently were in Mumbai (India), the, until now, hardest task, concerning rats, has come. About half of the 12 million inhabitants are living in slums, many of them without a solid house and therefore without water and without toilets. Big parts of the city are similar to a garbage field: Plastic garbage everywhere, junk, dead cats, undefinable brown puddles. And there is a frightening amount of rats. Very many. Brutally many. Disgustingly many.

While the people in Mumbai apparently have bigger problems, than taking care of all the nibbling rats in the corners, us idiotic, spoiled western-people were permanently anxious. We were frightened as hell by those beasts – our biggest enemies.

To give you an idea what we looked like speeding through the streets of Mumbai, anxious about meeting a rats, we made a video, which you can see here. In the video we are racing towards the only place where there are no rats: the ocean. There we stayed for three days and nights, close to dehydration, and had us picked up by a golden yacht of our trillionaire-friend, and flew back to the clean, cold and a bit less rat-sy Berlin.

During the rat-race we were wearing Converse Chuck Taylor “Rubber” shoes, David was wearing pants by Weekday and a shirt by Hugo Boss, I was wearing a wifebeater and hotpants by American Apparel.

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Dandy Diary Touchdown in Ibiza!

#campus

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