Dynasty

You know those slightly cheesy TV miniseries about the generations of a family based around the family business - it might be a winery, or a newspaper, or a music school - something that was started by the older generation and has become a source of pride and identity for the family, but then as the younger generation comes along things start to get difficult? Like, the oldest son Stefano is certain he will inherit the business but the younger son Matteo shows more talent, and the middle son Enrique who sees no place for himself, runs off to join the Foreign Legion or live the louche life in Morocco? And then the villain comes along - an old rival of the father who has spent his lifetime building a fortune with the sole, bitter goal of destroying his former nemesis - and he forces a situation where the family will have to sell their beloved winery/atelier/whatever, unless… unless one of the sons can save it! What will happen? Tune in next week.

And next week, we find that Stefano is secretly scheming with The Villain (who is going to double-cross him but not until week four); and Matteo is valiantly trying to save the school/press/whatever, and he's thisclose to success, but then Stefano learns that Matteo is really the illegitimate son of (*gasp*) The Villain!

Confronted, Mama confesses that twenty years ago, when Stefano and Enrique were very young, she had learned about the mysterious incident in Papa's past that had led to The Villain's vow of revenge. Terrified, she had secretly gone to The Villain to say she would do anything, anything to protect her family! And he had extorted from her the ultimate price: una notte d'amore. (Well, this is how it goes when it's a French miniseries set in Italy.)

Matteo is devastated, Papa is heartbroken, and the way is clear for Stefano to take his rightful place. He promptly hands over the atelier/school/whatever to The Villain, as they have secretly agreed, in exchange for an executive position in The Villain's villainous organization and thirty pieces of silver. Then, to nobody's surprise but Stefano's, The Villain systematically destroys the factory/press/whatever. Stefano, betrayer and betrayed, throws himself from the window of his new executive office.

All is in ruins. But then Enrique returns from his travels. He now has an exotic wife and a young son, and wants to introduce them to the family dynasty. Oh no! It's too late! But Enrique has learned much from his adventures, and he is ready to start again: using the old family expertise and some techniques he learned in Tangiers (don't ask), he will build a new dynasty from the ashes of the old.

Soaring music takes us into the sunset as we see Stefano learning to walk again, Mama teaching her new daughter-in-law how to cook, and everybody reconciled with everyone else.

The End.

*whew*


That's not quite what happened with Bottega Veneta. (Perhaps they saw an earlier version of the script.)

Family firm, established in the 60's, luxury hand-woven handbags. The young son of one of the partners, Gabrielecorto Moltedo, spends his childhood summers in the factories learning about artisanal craftsmanship. But in 2001, Tom Ford (The Villain!) gets Gucci Group to buy BV and puts Tomas Maier in charge, and young Gabrielecorto is deprived of... well, not much, really - the family's got a bucketload of money and residences in several countries.

A recent issue of Vanity Fair included an article called "Fortune's Children," about the "next generation of some of the world's great fortunes," in which various privileged youth assert that they want to make their own way in the world, and give pithy quotes like "I’d like to own my own sort of shop."

And so we meet Gabrielecorto, standing in a hotel bathrobe at the edge of the ocean.

Photographed at the Hôtel du Cap in Cap d’Antibes, France; vf.com

Sure enough, he's started his own luxury leather goods company! Corto Moltedo. And he's making... um, well, meet Priscilla:

This is his signature bag. It is a ludicrous pastiche of a small cylindrical duffel bag, with long flaps extending up to a semi-interesting braid-and-knot handle. It can be carried by hand (flaps up) or worn over the shoulder (flaps down).

Either way, there's a lot of extraneous leather there, just along for the ride, and remarkably little actual storage space for such a visually large bag. But hey, it can be dressed up in various ways - like a French sailor, for instance!

Or a... whatever this is. (Makes me think of an owl, for some reason. Squint your eyes.)

Or in snakeskin. And god knows I'm in no position to complain about tassels, but... I dunno, something about this one reminds me of a mood board for an OTT breakfast-nook décor: marble countertop, snakeskin-covered stools with brass upholstery tacks, black curtain rod with brass finials, black vinyl curtains, snakeskin tiebacks...

And while the Bottega Veneta motto was "When your own initials are enough" Gabrielecorto... well, he wants to make his own mark, so each bag has a whacking great C nailed to one end.

Meanwhile, Bottega Veneta has gone on to make some of the prettiest bags in the history of pretty.

Oh, Gabriele. Perhaps a few years in Morocco would help?

photos vf.com, yoox.com, yahoo.com, my own.

Little Girl goes to a wedding

Quite a few years ago now, I made a trip to Venice with my niece.

In one of the many shops selling masks and fans and dolls and trinkets, I found a little porcelain harlequin doll that I thought was exceptionally cute. My very sensible niece convinced me the doll was far too expensive, and we left it there. The next morning, though, I hadn't stopped thinking about it, and so we had to find our way back to the same shop - not an easy task, since they move everything around in Venice every night. The lesson here is that it's much easier to buy something when you first spot it, but you might get more exercise if you sleep on it.

Anyway, the doll came home with me, and Mr. Naff promptly christened it Little Girl.

Now, I know Harlequin is a boy, technically - but look at her! That's a Little Girl if ever there was one.

The sales woman had told me that the harlequin was good luck (for which I can find no evidence whatsoever in Wikipedia, but never mind) and by some kind of logic, that meant she lived in my car. And so it happened she made a trip to Canada with us...

...where she attended a seaside wedding.

Since she seemed to like to travel, I took her to Paris...

Oh shut up - she was really there, I just didn't photograph her in situ.

…and a few other places. Eventually, after having several lattes spilled on her and being variously bumped around, she was in dire need of a good bath and a new outfit. But when I stripped her little harlequin suit off, I discovered her head was broken! Here she is in the hospital, pre-surgery:

I glued her back together, but the challenge of sewing her a new tiny little outfit was beyond my skill level. So she languished naked in a drawer until I realized 2 weeks ago that we were about to Travel! To a Wedding! And Little Girl had to be there for Good Luck!

A few bits of ribbon, some glue, and a long plane ride later, Little Girl found herself sitting on a pretty floral swing thoughtfully provided by the wedding planner.

The ceremony was lovely, and Little Girl celebrated with a martini. She's a little tipsy. (She travelled to the wedding in a 2004 rose Balenciaga clutch, thankyouverymuch.)

The reception dinner was exceptionally good - Little Girl particularly enjoyed the asparagus soup with morels.

By the time the cake arrived she was ready to fall over.

"I'm so full!"

She's happy to be out and about again, but doesn't really want to go back in the car. I don't blame her.

Yes, but is is Art?

Holy cow, it's a long time since I've posted. I've been procrastinating over a whole "handbags: art or not?" argument that I've been vaguely developing in the back of my mind. (The short answer: Not.) (Slightly longer answer: My theory is that if it can actually be used as a functional handbag, it's not art. If it just looks like a handbag, it might be art. Depends.) (Clearly I haven't been really sweating over this argument.)

Starting at the art end of the spectrum:

Zaha Hadid (architect) and Karl Lagerfeld (Chanel, etc.) teamed up to make a travelling exhibition of art inspired by the signature Chanel 2.55 handbag.

That's a Sylvie Fleury sculpture in the background.

They housed it in a nifty collapsible pod, which I imagine rolled up into a small wheelie bag for travel to the next location. Unfortunately, they stopped the tour when the economy tanked.

Nancy Wu thought it would be amusing to make a Chanel out of beef jerky.

I don't think it was included in the travelling exhibition. (But really, when the economy tanks, it could be useful to have an edible handbag, no?)

Ted Noten's been doing acrylic art handbags for a while - I especially like this icepick bag, which comes with diamonds, cocaine, a ring, and a stiletto (not a shoe, the other kind).

(Why can't they sell regular bags like that?)

And here's a full circle: The Louis Vuitton Miroir handbags...

Handbag - not art.

...were based on French artist Sylvie Fleury's (her again!) silver-plated bronze version...

Art.

...of the LV Keepall.

Handbag.

And continuing down the non-art, actual handbag path:

Marc Jacobs at Vuitton has done a number of artist collaborations, including Takashi Murakami,

Richard Prince,

How many layers of appropriation is it when Richard Prince puts
Henny Youngman on a Louis Vuitton bag?

and Steven Sprouse.

Apparently, they are considered collectible. Don't ask me.

And as is so often the case, Prada does it better, with their James Jean-illustrated fairy bag.

Still not art per se, but not really a handbag either, since apparently if you do anything but look at it, the colour runs. Pretty, though!

Fendi commissioned and sold some one-of-a-kind bags that artists have decorated with their very own hands!

Jeff Koons Fendi baguette

But I am not of the opinion that every line drawn by an artist in his lifetime is de facto art. Collectible, sure. (YMMV.) Fendi is also selling blank bags that you can draw on yourself:

(Definitely not art!)

Upping the stakes, Linda Evangelista has a Birkin with a picture of herself on it, drawn by Jean-Paul Gaultier.

I think you'd need some kind of self-regard to carry such a thing, but I guess she's got it.

Or you can draw on your Birkin (err, Kelly) yourself!

You know, if you have some paint, a spare $7K bag lying around, the aesthetic sensibility of a 12-year-old, and are unable to spell.

ANYway, imagine my delight in learning recently that Louis Vuitton is in a bit of trouble for allegedly passing off their bag debris as art! It's wonderful. Vuitton prints up a few kilometers of Murakami-designed canvas to make their limited edition bags, then, instead of wrapping up the leftovers in a rubber band and selling them from the remnants bin like any other retailer, they frame some bits and label them as "revisited" - in other words, claiming that even though the fabric is mass-produced by robots, The Artist Himself has touched it afterward, adding a detail or a brushstroke or a tiny speck of DNA.

Hm. Who does this process remind us of?

Thomas Kinkade, Painter of Tacky(tm)!

(Look him up if you're not familiar - you could not pay me enough to link to him.)

Even if you make a handbag out of it -

...it's Just. Not. Art.

I've said it before: my rules may seem arbitrary but I think they make the world a better place.

photos latimes.com, nwudesign.com, tednoten.com, artnet.com, bagsnob.com, Google image search

Trompe l'oeil

Jean-Paul Gaultier, the designer who gave us this (or more accurately, "these"):

(Oh crap, now I have a picture of Madonna on my blog.)

...also designs seasonal ready-to-wear and accessories for Hermès, where things are decidedly more muted and less wacky.

If anyone else thinks JPG + Hermès = a weird combination, raise your hand.

Okay, you can put it down now.

For the Fall/Winter 2009 collection, Gaultier sent this out on the Hermès runway:

It's a trompe-l'oeil of how the Birkin is often carried, with its straps hanging down in front. Even the little clochette that holds the key is faux'd on the back!

(Double-crap, now I have a picture of Posh Spice on my blog. Shoot me now.)

Gaultier has done trompe-l'oeil before for his own line:

Dress: fall/winter 1995–96, multicolored synthetic quilted knit with
trompe l’oeil bikini, now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Bag: regrettably missed opportunity.

...and certainly he does not hesitate to repeat a joke.

"He opened with an old equestrian joke (which he's told many times recently in his own collection and at Hermès)..."
(style.com Fall 2008 couture)

"The visual pun and the trompe l'oeil sartorial quip have basically been owned by Jean Paul Gaultier for 20 years..."
(style.com Fall 2006 couture)

Plus ça change, plus c'est JPG doing the same old thing.

Still, I like the trompe-alligator-granny-bag/tote, and I like the trompe-Birkin, conceptually at least.

But there is great consternation on the Hermès forums over this new-fangled thing, which has been described variously as:

• melted
• cheap imposter
• lifeless
• hideous
• chocolate cake.

Hermès really ought to get into the cake market - the other
luxury brands are right out front in this area.

I particularly liked these assessments, though probably for the wrong reasons:

"Great bag for someone who wanted to make an anti-fashion statement. Like a Quaker."

*ateliernaff wipes coffee off monitor*

"Unfortunately this design lacks the enduring bohemian safistication [sic] of the Birkin."

Yes. Yes, it do.

And then I fell across this:

"A friend of mine told me that she heard that Hermes came out with a New Hermes Birkin Bag without hardwares, should come out cheaper. Hope you guys can help me find the bag. Please let me know the sites and you may send pics. Thank you."

There's just so much wrong with this, not even counting the grammar and the imperious "you may send pics." Listen, it's not the tiny bit of hardware that makes the Birkin so expensive and hard to get (well, except when they coat the hardware with diamonds - that does add a few bucks).

"Asked if the modified Birkin — which Gaultier described as a 'trompe l'oeil Birkin, a simpler Birkin' that does away with the famous bag's flap opening — was less expensive than the classic version, Gaultier laughed.

'I don't know that it is,' he said."
(iht.com; article seems to have disappeared, though)

My prediction is this: If the trompe-l'oeil bag is produced at all, it will be in extremely limited quantities, and could easily end up being more expensive and harder to find than a regular Birkin. Any bags available for sale on "sites" will be fakes, which are almost certainly already in production.

And it's entirely possible that Hermès will decide not to produce it at all - but only after confusing the hell out of their clientèle about whether it will or won't be available and in what leathers and colours, and when, where, and for how much.

(In fact, I've read that there are concerns at H. that the bag is too fragile to produce.)

But if what you're after is an ironic take on the Birkin (as opposed to an affordable actual Birkin) I really like the Slow and Steady Wins the Race version in unbleached cotton canvas. (And isn't that an awesome company name?)

Not that difficult to whip up at home, girls!

photos from style.com, popsugar.com, metmuseum.org,
patacake-parties.com, slowandsteadywinstherace.com

Favourite things

I've become my mother.

Me: What would you like for your birthday?
Her: Pantyhose.

Apparently I'm difficult to buy gifts for. I've been asked to make a list of things I like.

Now you'll have that song stuck in your head. You're welcome!

I collect things (handbags, Hermes scarves) but gifting in those areas is risky, partly because no-one but me (and one or two of my partners in crime) knows what my current obsessive quest is this week (Regina 90cm twill with brown background; things made with horsehair). Also, they're expensive.

So here, for future reference, are things I like that aren't chocolate. (Though I don't know what's wrong with chocolate, since it makes me perfectly happy, and surely that's the goal? But anyway.) And remember that I am committed to reducing my overall inventory of possessions by 2 for each new item received! (That's going pretty well, by the way.)

1. Spice colours: paprika, turmeric, curry, cardamon...
   
2. French stuff. If it's French, I like it.
   
   
   (With some small exceptions.)
   
3. Antiquey fabric, especially with texture - jacquard, embroidery, beading, etc. - in spice colours, bien sûr.
   
4. Bees (of the Napoleonic variety) and birds (of the cute variety).
   
5. Tassels, of any variety whatsoever.
   
6. And closely related to tassels (part of the general passementerie family), something called "gimp". I did not make that up.
   
   What you need to understand about me is that I would consider a couple of feet of particularly intricate gimp, or a swatch of extravagant fabric to be a highly satisfactory gift. Throw in a chocolate bar and you're golden.
   
   
7. Things made of horn.
   
8. OMG I nearly forgot: Fans! I'm a fan of fans. I have at least one with me at all times.
   

   The Perfect Gift: A carved-horn fan with a bee motif and a paprika-red tassel, in an embroidered curry silk jacquard case, made in France.

9. Scents I like, for things that are scented: almond, tea, anise, honey. (I just spent 20 minutes looking for an image of a honey-anise-almond madeleine with a cup of tea. Just imagine it, visually and olfactorily, okay?)
   

So print this out, and keep it in your wallet. And if this still doesn't help you, then head on over to kiva.org and make a little microloan. You'll make me smile and you'll even get your money back. Throw in a chocolate bar and you're golden.

pics from designdivafabrics.com and some other places I lost track of