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July 29 2014

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15 posts tagged "Tara Subkoff"

blasblog: an ode to the beatrice inn

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A major pastime in the rural parts of Missouri where I spent my childhood summers was caving. Yes, wading though mud in the dark in underground parts of the earth—woohoo. The first thing a caver learns is that if a bat flies into your face, it’s not an attack—it’s because bats memorize the layouts of their dark lairs and don’t bother checking their routes when they move around. The reason I relate this story is because I can say with some sense of authority that the Beatrice Inn has become New York’s bat cave. For some, perhaps including myself, it would be not entirely impossible to walk into that place blindfolded yet still know where the bar is, where the doorman sits, and depending on the hour, where the bathroom line starts and ends. Sure, I might still dabble in a Bungalow 8 here or a Socialista there, but when it comes to the Spring 2009 collections, it has been all about the Beatrice Inn. And I’m not the only one who thinks so: Both Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen have made cameos at the bar, as have Adrian Grenier, Juliette Lewis, Lou Doillon, Theodora Richards, and Joy Bryant. They were there for Chiara Clemente‘s birthday, Purple magazine’s after-dinner bash, and the Proenza Schouler post-show celebration. (And then there was that whole Sean Avery VIP area thing, which has in fact lasted all week as planned.) Last night—as people filed in from the V Magazine party, the Chanel dinner, and wherever else one might spend a Wednesday evening—was just another average night at the nightspot: Sharing the booths were Avery, Kirsten Dunst, Barbara Bush, and Tara Subkoff (all repeat fashion-week attendees) as well as new faces such as Rosetta Getty, Brendan Shanahan, Catherine Keener, and Amanda Scheer-Demme. And, unlike Sunday night, there wasn’t an FDNY-prompted evacuation.

Photo: RD/Dziekan/Retna

samantha pleet’s second career: film

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Fashion week is starting to feel like a film festival. Last Thursday, Tara Subkoff screened her Fame Fatale short, starring her new collection for Bebe; a day later, Scott Sternberg bowed his Band of Outsiders videos starring Kirsten Dunst; tonight, Melissa Coker of Wren will debut the Alia Raza-helmed Another 3 Women. Moving pictures are all the rage, it seems. But no one can accuse Samantha Pleet of jumping on the bandwagon: For a few seasons now, the Brooklyn-based designer has been giving her collections the celluloid treatment, borrowing the skills (and equipment) of her talented friends. Samantha’s Season of Wonders, as Pleet dubbed her presentation last night, projected a video installation directed by artist Tom Hines (a pal); starring, among others, writer Eviana Hartman (Pleet’s partner in the brand Bodkin); and set-designed by Patrick McGovern (Pleet’s husband.) “It’s kind of inspired by the Czech New Wave film Valerie and her Week of Wonders,” Pleet explained of the video. “We wanted it to have that same sense of disoriented time and place, like you’re not sure where you are.” As for Pleet, she knows exactly where she is: the catbird seat. As well as her popular eponymous line and the sustainably produced Bodkin (which was recently picked up by L.A. store Vie), Pleet is the mind behind Rapscallion, a collaboration with Urban Outfitters due in October. And her next stop is Hollywood. “We’re going to be doing a pop-up store in L.A.,” Pleet said of the Rapscallion launch. No word on who’s bidding on the film rights.

Photo: Thomas Hines

Blasblog: the rose bar’s rocking birthday

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“Can I have your attention, please: The Rose Bar is now officially a rock ‘n’ roll club.” With that announcement, which was made by Nur Khan, who’s been the maestro of the Gramercy Park’s swanky red-velvet lounge since it opened, the top-secret second anniversary celebration of the club began. (Not that anything in this city is that top secret: Damien, the spot’s much admired doorman, had to put more than one uninvited guest—hello, Lady Victoria Hervey—in their place.) And boy was it rowdy, the highlight being the set from Dave Navarro and Perry Farrell. In various parts of the standing-room-only crowd (and people were standing on anything, including benches, booths, cash registers, and the pool table) were the likes of Jeremy Piven, Dylan McDermott, Theodora Richards, Mick Rock, Tara Subkoff, Barbara Bush, former Calvin Klein model Freddie Ljungberg, and Jacquetta Wheeler. “I have to say, I love this crowd. And I love that so many people came out tonight—I know there were conflicting parties,” said Lou Doillon, who swung by the Prada bash but fled the fashion flock for the gig. “But me? I like to mix it up.” She wasn’t the only one. Interview‘s Christopher Bollen commented that it took him some time to remember what he was coming to the Rose Bar for: Which fashion company was doing their dinner here? Or was it a designer’s after-party? A socialite handbag launch? “Oh, that’s right. I came for the music. How novel.”

Photo: Clint Spaulding/PatrickMcMullan.com

on form, despite the heat

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There’s nothing hotter than a runway show on the tippy top of a new skyscraper overlooking the Hudson. There’s also nothing hotter (different meaning here, people) than a crowded elevator full of sweaty fashion-week guests trying to exit the building following a runway show on the tippy top of a new skyscraper overlooking the Hudson. Form, the young label designed by Jerry Tam, with Tara Subkoff as newly appointed design director, put on a show yesterday worth both the heaven of its setting and the hell of its leaving. It was Form’s tenth season—whoa, has it been that long already?—and for Spring ’09, out came angular kite skirts and floaty parachute shirtdresses, cowl-necked jackets in crisp whites, and a black empire dress paired with a twill riding jacket, a strange suggestion of gothic overlaid with upper-class England. Who does Tam see wearing these clothes? He named Charlotte Gainsbourg, Chloë Sevigny, and the Israeli beauty Janelle Fishman.

Bebe’s Fatale Attraction

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Tara Subkoff has not been getting much sun this summer. Granted, the ex-Imitation of Christ designer has never come off as the type to slather on coconut oil and bake on a beach blanket, but even so, a girl needs her vitamin D. “I’ve spent pretty much every hour of my summer working on my movie,” says Subkoff. “I love the process, but, you know, a little cube in a windowless room, looking at the same images over and over and over again… At a certain point, I’m like—is this going to make me crazy? Have I gone crazy already?” It would be convenient to say that Subkoff has plumbed this paranoia for the making of Fame Fatale, her paranoia-driven short starring Lydia Hearst and Subkoff’s new, film noir-inspired collection for Bebe. But as it happens, Fame Fatale is precisely the project that’s kept Subkoff cooped up—until now. A cut of the film makes its debut this evening at Norwood House, which means that not only can Subkoff bask, at last, in the sunshine, but she can bask in some much deserved glory, too. Here, she talks to us about life in the flashbulbs, finding the comedy in film noir, and lighting out for new creative territory.

Let’s try this Hollywood style. Pitch me. What’s Fame Fatale all about?

A day in the life of a Hollywood starlet—is she really being watched all the time, or is it all in her head? Filmed in a classic film noir-style, starring Lydia Hearst as the starlet. Is that Hollywood enough?

Yeah, plenty. Was the starlet character inspired by anyone in particular? Cough, Lohan?

Honestly, it’s more generalized than that—I mean, I go out to L.A. and hang out with my actor friends, a few of whom are seriously famous, and I swear it’s like they feel hunted. The paparazzi thing, it’s just nuts. They can’t go out in public, at least not to certain places. But this isn’t some tabloid-bashing movie. The flip side is, no one gets to be a famous movie star by accident. The people who pursue that, they know what they’re getting themselves into. And they know how to use the media, too.

There’s a certain ‘who’s zooming who?’ quality to the whole thing. Which is very film noir, in fact—is that why you decided to make a movie in that style?

I’m just really obsessed with film noir. Touch of Evil, Kiss Me Deadly, The Maltese Falcon, any Hitchcock film ever… My new collection for Bebe is inspired by the amazing clothes in those movies—and those film noir heroines, whip-smart broads like Lauren Bacall and Barbara Stanwyck. I mean, Gilda, how stunning is Rita Hayworth in that? Those movies are so stylish, in a way you don’t see much anymore. And not only in terms of the clothes, but through and through. The way the directors use light, the framing, the tone, it’s all so specific.

Why did you decide to shoot Fame Fatale on both film and digital?

The 16-millimeter camera broke midway through the shoot, so we had to go to high-def. I love film—I can remember my mom cutting our old Super 8 home movies with scissors—so I’d resisted going digital, but as it turned out, switching to HD really worked with the story. There’s that first part, where she’s at home, in her bubble, and that’s all on film, and then when she leaves and goes out into the real world, that’s HD. There’s more of a hardness to digital images, which I wound up really liking for those scenes.

I feel like the difference between a good director and a competent one is the willingness to embrace the compromises and the happy accidents that happen when you shoot a film.

You have to be open to changes. The voiceover is something else that changed as I made the picture—Carrie Fisher co-wrote it with me, and that’s just because she’s a dear friend and I went to see her perform in Hartford, and when I showed her the voiceover, she got out her pen and started writing. And then Jane Adams, who actually performs the voiceover, she improved what we’d created by, like, 200 percent. She’s an amazing actress. And then there was the whole paparazzi craziness—we couldn’t afford to hire a bunch of actors and dress them up like paparazzi, so instead, Lydia and I staged a tabloid moment, and crossed our fingers that the photographers would show up. The really remarkable thing is that they did show up—the real paps, I mean. They knew the whole thing was manufactured, and they showed up anyway. And it was all on the blogs the next day, reported straight, and we got our shots, and long story short, the whole thing is, like, beyond postmodern.

I know you’re working on a longer cut of the film that you’d like to submit to festivals—is that cool with the Bebe people?

Bebe has been very open and supportive of my doing this—they gave me some money, and so on—but I want people to know, this is my film. I paid for most of it, and I called in favors from my friends, just like any indie filmmaker does. I’ve got some other fashion stuff in the works, potentially, but this is where I see myself going now. I’m working with a couple writers on a feature script, and I’d like to get that shot within the next year or so. I don’t think I have to choose one thing or the other, film or fashion; I mean, the longer I’ve worked in either industry, the more it’s made me realize that it’s all the same. You work insanely hard to turn something in your head into reality, and then as soon as that vision is real, you’re on to the next thing.