6 posts tagged "Pitti"
Nick Wooster’s dandyish look has long mesmerized menswear show-goers. With his handlebar mustache, tattoo sleeves, and eclectic outfits (like the embroidered shorts, relaxed blazer, and snazzy leopard Celine shoes he wore during this week’s Pitti fair, above), he’s crafted an aesthetic that’s uniquely his own. Having served as the mennswear fashion director at Bergdorf Goodman, as well as the menswear creative director at JC Penney (a post he left in April of this year), Wooster is not only catnip for street style paps, but a seasoned industry expert. Here, the man talks to Style.com about Pitti, the state of menswear, and his plans for the future.
When did you first start coming to Pitti?
I did my first Pitti in January of 1988.
What’s changed since then
Absolutely nothing. Well, actually, in a certain way, nothing has changed, and then obviously, everything has. The heart of Pitti has always been the same. Look at someone like Lino or Peter Rizzo, who was the person who brought me to my first Pitti. He still comes, and so many of the players are the same. I think that’s the story of menswear, the story of Italy, and the story of Pitti.
You’re known for your personal style. Do you turn it up for the shows?
No. I mean, at the end of the day, I’ve always felt the need and desire to be different. The worst part for me is figuring out what I’m going to bring. I brought twice as much as I’m going to need so there’s always a bit of a problem in the morning, like, “Shit what am I going to wear?” But that’s the story of my life. I never know what I’m going to wear until I get out of the shower. Continue Reading “A Man’s World: Nick Wooster Talks Pitti” »
“I like being obsessed,” said Olympia Le-Tan on Thursday night as she welcomed visitors to the special project she had created for Pitti in Florence. And with an opening line like that, it was almost impossible to resist the web that Le-Tan had woven in the Museo Bellini, yet another of the jaw-droppingly beautiful Renaissance venues that seem to be ten-a-penny in Florence. When the Pitti organizers invited her to participate in this year’s event, it took Le-Tan mere minutes to decide that she would celebrate her favorite Italian films and books and, by extension, their directors and authors in the idiosyncratic medium that she has made her own—immaculately embroidered “books” that are actually handbags. The museum was draped in red silk curtains with the OLT logo, pink roses trailed over banisters, candles flared in the dusty air…atmosphere for days. Every shadowy room had vitrines displaying Le-Tan’s chosen 36 titles, precisely duplicated in thread as they would have appeared on the original book cover or movie poster. They covered a very comfortable waterfront from Visconti, Fellini, and Antonioni (her favorite of favorites) to Moravia, Machiavelli, and Pirandello.
But Le-Tan’s stroke of genius—as far as the Pitti exhibition went—was to persuade a game handful of friends to be photographed by Max Farago as a character from each of the 36. Olympia herself was the apogee of lush sensuality, posed as Silvana Mangano from a 1949 movie called Riso Amaro. Jennifer Eymere, editor of Jalouse magazine, made a very convincing Giulietta Masina from Fellini’s La Strada. Nightclub impresario André Saraiva was a plausibly penitent Jean-Louis Trintignant from The Conformist. As for Victoire de Castellane as Anita Ekberg in full clerical garb from La Dolce Vita? The success of that image was in inverse proportion to its unlikeliness. Poles apart were Hamish Bowles as Martin von Essenbeck, the cross-dressing Nazi from Visconti’s La Caduta Degli Dei (more familiar to English-speaking aficionados of early-seventies cinematic decadence as The Damned) and the ubiquitous Olivier Zahm, posed stark raving naked as a misbegotten extra from Pasolini’s terrifyingly transgressive Salò.
Later that same night, a handful of Le-Tan’s cast of characters regrouped on the Borgo San Jacopo to reflect on their re-conceptualisation of Italian culture. Most of them were French. You can imagine what they talked about.
If at first it seemed perverse of Kate and Laura Mulleavy to turn their backs on the Renaissance glories of Florence in favor of an abandoned, dilapidated clothing store as the venue for the Rodarte presentation at Pitti, their decision made sense once you entered the labyrinthine space that producer Alex de Betak had customized for them with neon tubing and a huge ancient, cracked mirror. “We wanted to link the environment to what we do,” said Kate. True, the space artfully embodied Rodarte’s hermetic, sui generis personality.
Rather than Renaissance aesthetics, the Mulleavys focused on Renaissance ascetics, in particular the meditative state of heightened spirituality induced by the Fra Angelico frescoes on the walls of the monks’ cells under the Convent of San Marco. Every nook was intended to evoke those cells, in which the Rodarte gowns were suspended like serene distillations of the artist’s faded, dusty colors and delicate draperies. And a spiritual serenity was, in fact, the impression that lingered longest, perhaps because, in the past, the Mulleavys have made such an art of insinuating the barely suppressed violence of the physical world into their work.
The ten gowns were structured around a single blueprint: a sculpted torso, a long columnar skirt falling straight to the ground. The silhouette was familiar from classical art. Although Kate insisted that Hollywood couture has never been a reference for them, there was also something of the stately elegance of Adrian in this work, with an overlay of the kind of arcane, dreamlike flourishes that characterize Rodarte. A silk dress in vivid lapis blue was draped in lavender silk satin, its skirt a panel of electric blue sequins. Another dress, in dusty blue, was cross-draped with pink silk, like a couture version of Diana the Huntress. A halter-necked gown in white silk featured a torrent of white and red ruffles splitting open down its front. Hidden among the folds: molded Easter lilies, studded with pearls and crystals. The most spectacularly overwrought piece was composed of a cocoon of coppery lamé crisscrossed with huge scimitarlike feathers painted gold that floated over a skirt of white down. The whole ensemble was topped by a gold sunburst crown, one of the sculptural metal details inspired by Bernini’s Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.
Such an outfit was a reminder that all ten of these pieces are destined for the Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s permanent collection, rather than the bodies of living, breathing women. The significance of that wasn’t lost on Kate Mulleavy. She was free-associating about Carl Sagan making a record of the sounds of Earth and firing it off into space, where others would wonder at it in much the same way that she and Laura had spent five days marveling at Florentine glories that were hundreds of years in the making. In five centuries, will people be standing in front of Rodarte dresses in a similar state of transport? Pitti says yes.
Click here to see the full ten-piece collection >
Today in Florence, Gareth Pugh shows his new Fall ’11 women’s collection as part of Pitti W. SHOWstudio alumna Ruth Hogben (who created the film Pugh screened with his collection last season, and also lensed the video with Mariacarla Boscono for Barneys.com and Givenchy) created a short to play alongside, inspired by “religious iconography and Florentine opulence.” Check it out below; we’ll be posting our coverage of the collection shortly.