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April 18 2014

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28 posts tagged "Charlotte Ronson"

L.A., The Charlotte Ronson Way

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Not only does she juggle her eponymous label and I Heart Ronson, her secondary line for JCPenney, Charlotte Ronson also recently inked a deal to roll out 200 CR stores in Asia over the next five years. It’s Phase I of the Ronson family plan for world domination—and we’re only mostly kidding.

Of course, even a budding fashion mini-mogul needs her R&R, and for that, Ronson heads for L.A. (a city where even Pilates studios offer valet parking). Between the vibrant city and her twin, Samantha, living in West Hollywood, Ronson’s become something of a fixture on the JFK-LAX red-eye. And while her West Coast likes (the weather) and dislikes (the traffic) are pretty standard, her go-to hang outs here are anything but. On her most recent sojourn, Ronson toted a camera along with her to give Style.com an off-the-beaten track guide to her favorite spots in the City of Angels. Her photo diary includes stops at an airbrush nail salon and a gun range. Frommer’s, this is not. Continue Reading “L.A., The Charlotte Ronson Way” »

M.I.A., Mark, And More Party At Milk

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Vice magazine can mobilize the hipster masses, but isn’t necessarily known for its ability to keep them organized. Interesting, then, that the mag teamed up with Intel to present 12 straight hours of movie screenings, digital art, and precisely scheduled musical acts at Milk Studios. Anyone with memories of Vice‘s chaotic Halloween party last year (or the riotous door situation at Milk’s recent Corduroy bash, for that matter) could be forgiven for thinking the so-called Creators Project might end up more madhouse than funhouse—especially considering all the free booze.

Miraculously, that wasn’t the case. From Saturday afternoon until early Sunday morning, crowds flowed easily in and out of Milk’s multilevel complex, and organizers even installed a bunch of silver bike racks along 15th Street as a courtesy to visitors, like Nate Lowman, who rode over. The audiovisual amusements were loud and varied, and anyone who thought Interpol’s show at the loading dock was too mainstream could go upstairs to see Die Antwoord, the unlikely South African rap sensation. Ryan McGinley, who shot M.I.A. (top) for the Times Magazine‘s controversial recent profile, was one of few fans not snapping photos of the pop star during her unannounced but not-so-secret performance, which had her on-stage team taking a moment to pour drinks for the front rows.

Mark Ronson (above), who served more or less as the event’s busy mascot, circulated in a white jacket, sipping from a carton of orange juice. After midnight, he set up his DJ station on the first floor. He’d already done a discussion panel and created a pop song in front of an audience. Now, he had Alexander Wang swaying to his tunes and his sister, Charlotte, proudly looking on. She’d missed the M.I.A. set and just about everything else, she said: “I came for him.”

Photos: Courtesy of Milk Studios

Sex With Calvin, Tommy, Jenna, And (Of Course) Courtney Love

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After Monday’s star-studded festivities, last night’s screening of Sex and the City 2, sponsored by the Cinema Society, Swarovski, and HP (stringer Bradshaw types away on a mini HP, not the Mac of the HBO series), felt like a relaxed evening at the movies with friends—friends like Calvin Klein, Tommy Hilfiger, and J.Crew’s Jenna Lyons. Gawking fans outside the theater were warned that the stars weren’t coming, but plenty of fashion’s ruling class did. So did a full half-row of models (Karlie Kloss towering over the rest), a real housewife (Kelly Killoren Bensimon), a real newlywed (Ivanka Trump), a smattering of other reality-ites (Tinsley, Olivia Palermo), and a cadre of young and youngish designers (Prabal Gurung, Charlotte Ronson, Brian Atwood). And Courtney Love, because these days, there’s always Courtney Love. “This is better than the movie,” said a spectator, craning around to survey the audience.

As it turned out, it was. At two and a half hours long, Sex makes you long for the days of half-hour episodes, which seem delicate bonbons compared to this brick. If you want a comprehensive rundown of all of the fashions, well, there’s a book for that. (No app, yet, but presumably some savvy entrepreneur will correct this oversight shortly.) Will fans mind? The die-hards shouldn’t. (And I guess they can argue that Avatar—and, for that matter, Lawrence of Arabia—are longer.) “Heavy hitting” has never been the Sex way, after all, and with a shovelful of salt, the movie’s ultimate message of global female empowerment through fashion is one that’s generally worth approving. But as for me, I’m going to focus on the specific. It was fun to see the classic Dior newsprint dress from the series make a comeback. And the clear-plastic Calvin Klein shades that Carrie rocks in Abu Dhabi are seriously desirable—even I wanted a pair. Girl power, schmirl power. Isn’t conspicuous consumption what this whole scene is really about?

Photo: Billy Farrell / Patrick McMullan

Deacon To Ungaro, Hamm And Hall To W, Ronson Takes The Wheel, And More…

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As expected, Giles Deacon (pictured) has been named creative director at Emanuel Ungaro. Let’s just pretend the Lindsay years never happened. [Vogue U.K.]

August will be Stefano Tonchi’s first issue at W. For his first cover? A twofer, Jon Hamm and Rebecca Hall (co-stars in the new Ben Affleck movie The Town). W: the new, edgy indie? [WWD]

Alana Zimmer: total Charlotte. Sessilee‘s a Samantha. If you’ve ever been curious (and frankly, we didn’t know we were until we read the article), Modelinia rounded up a few of its favorite catwalkers to find out which Sex girl they identify with most. [Modelinia]

Charlotte Ronson, licensed driver. Slow news day? [WSJ]

And a great little clip from the vaults: Yves Saint Laurent on What’s My Line. [Styleite]

Photo: Richard Young / Startraks Photo

No Use Crying Over Spilt Vodka

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Bottle service, deafening dance music, and an eager chorus of people clamoring to get in—just another Friday night at Avenue, except for the shared genes. Charlotte Ronson was throwing the after-party for her Bryant Park show, and, as usual, the family—less brother Mark, who’d flown back to London earlier that day for an album release—was there to celebrate. That’s not to say it was a Ronson-only crowd. The bash (sister Sam on the turntables) drew Zoe Kravitz, Cory Kennedy, and the ubiquitous Jared Leto (pictured, with Ronson), as well as a glut of Ronson’s fans, friends, and staff. Why not a calmer affair? “There’s too many people that work too hard—you can’t contain them,” Ronson said from her banquette, adding that after a runway event where “all those little things have to fall into place,” it’s nice to be able to get a little sloppy. “You can spill a lot of vodka and be like, oh, I meant to do that.”

And a few blocks downtown at Provocateur, Rag & Bone was celebrating its after-party, though the spills David Neville was thinking of were tears, not vodka. “We were crying backstage,” he said of the reaction among his staff when the last womenswear look went out at their show earlier that day. “It’s been such an intense season for us—we really put ourselves on the line, creatively, and coming to the end of that process, it was a little overwhelming.” And, his co-designer, Marcus Wainwright, hastened to add, the duo’s new stylist, Vanessa Reid, “kicked our ass”—in the best possible way. The bash was a celebration of many months of work, no less on the collection than on the soundtrack. “Five months,” Wainwright said, explaining that it takes that long for him and Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke to settle on the tracks for the shows, which Yorke then mixes and sends off. “A lot of bass this season. At the men’s show, we blew out a speaker.” One way, among many, that Rag & Bone has been blowing everyone away.

Photo: Sherly Rabbani and Josephine Solimene