2 posts tagged "Olafur Eliasson"
The English are coming, the English are coming! Oh—no, wait, it’s the French. Racked reports there are signs of life at Isabel Marant’s (pictured) long-awaited Soho store: A French stick-figure drawing announces progress. [Racked]
And while Marant’s going resolutely 2-D, Burberry’s getting the Avatar treatment—the label is live-casting its upcoming London fashion week show in 3-D. [Fashionologie]
Christie’s will hold a special auction for Earth Day this April, with profits to be divided among four environmental charities. Here’s your chance to snap up a Maya Lin, an Olafur Eliasson, or a special date with Hugh Jackman, all for a good cause! (One guess which one we’re gunning for.) [WWD]
The Times reviews the history of werewolves/wolfmen, perhaps the progenitors of the grizzled beardo look currently in vogue. Team Edward, meh—give us Team Lon Chaney! [NYT]
And if you’ve ever wondered whether models need to look good, have name recognition, and dress stylishly to book jobs, take it from Storm Models founder (and Kate Moss discoverer) Sarah Doukas: They do. [Models Off Duty]
With its verdant landscape and green viewpoint, Berlin is a natural fit for Stella McCartney’s eco-friendly clothes. It’s why Josef Voelk and Emanuel de Bayer, the visionary co-directors of The Corner (Berlin’s answer to Colette), decided to stock her line four years ago, before anywhere else in Germany. For last night’s party to commemorate the pioneering buy, they spelled McCartney’s name in balloons and invited Berlin’s leading fashion folk. The jolly fête at the high-end boutique was followed by an intimate dinner for McCartney hosted by German Vogue editor in chief Christiane Arp, where she was joined by guests like Veruschka and Olafur Eliasson. At The Corner, the menu consisted entirely of dessert in the form of mini candy bars, served by ladies in “I Heart Stella” T-shirts holding cigarette-girl trays. (For the record, they also offered cigarettes as well as flavored condoms and little samples of Stella perfume.) McCartney seemed overjoyed to see Michael Michalsky, the delightfully decadent Berlin designer. “You can’t talk to Stella without wearing gold alien ears,” he instructed me with German sternness. Of course, I obeyed. But even without the antennae, McCartney was willing to chat. “I would love to see the art galleries here,” she said. “I like Gerhard Richter. He came to one of my shows. Someday, if I sell a lot of dresses, I hope to own one of his paintings, but in the meantime, I have three children and need to hurry home.”