6 posts tagged "Vanessa Friedman"
A stellar story by The New York Times‘ fashion director, Vanessa Friedman, popped up on my news feed this afternoon, and it led me to a startling revelation: Beyoncé is not a fashion icon. Friedman’s article was spurred by a fashion exhibition dedicated to Queen Bey in the Legends of Rock section of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which, having opened last week, features the gold Thierry Mugler bodysuit from 2009′s “Sweet Dreams,” the superstar’s black leather and lace 2013 Super Bowl look, and the metal glove from 2008′s “Single Ladies” video, as well as the violet feather-embellished Givenchy Haute Couture gown Mrs. Carter donned to the 2012 Met Gala. To be sure, most of these wares are showstoppers. But are they iconic? Not so much.
What’s more, Friedman notes, is that despite her mega following, Beyoncé hasn’t spurred a bevy of trends or launched the careers of young designers, like Rihanna or Lady Gaga have. Furthermore, aside from booty-baring bodysuits, I can’t even think of how one might describe Beyoncé’s signature offstage style because she doesn’t really have one. She hasn’t truly demonstrated any evolution in her wardrobe or her taste since her Destiny’s Child days. And even scrolling through the exhibition images online, the majority of the included pieces have an overly chintzy-meets-not-quite-street aesthetic, as if Bey were stuck in the days of “Bills Bills Bills.”
But that’s not to say Beyoncé isn’t a cultural icon (and I’m not just saying that for fear of Beygency retaliation). She has a body like a rocket, she’s broken every record in the book (like that time she released 17 videos overnight on iTunes), and she’s got moves and a voice most performers would kill for. However, as a voice for feminine empowerment in the public eye, it would be exciting if she stepped up her day-to-day sartorial game just a smidge. And for that matter, it would have been nice to have seen the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame fete a real fashion tastemaker (ahem, Rihanna) instead.
Unfortunately, The Hills‘ opinionated but not terribly enlightened Kristin Cavallari launches her new fashion show, The Fabulist, on E! tonight. This morning, Fashionista tapped into an interesting conversation: What on earth gives celebrities such as Cavallari the gall to knight themselves fashion experts? The story’s headline asked, “Are Celebrities the New Fashion Critics?” Although the article went on to defend reputable, old-school journalists, like Style.com’s own Tim Blanks, it seemed to imply that the public may be inclined to turn to celebrities as their go-to fashion reviewers rather than, well, actual critics.
Celebrities’ fashion thoughts are often (but, of course, not always) molded by their skilled stylists and sponsors. And while Fashionista did not suggest that stars are the educated voice of fashion reason, it did refer to them as fashion critics. This caused me to raise an eyebrow, and it leads us to the question: What is a fashion critic? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe a fashion critic is an informed, hopefully unbiased individual who can discuss a collection’s or garment’s merits and/or downfalls in both a broader fashion context and, more important, a broader cultural context. It takes a certain knowledge base to do that.
During a 2010 interview with Style.com’s editor in chief Dirk Standen, Cathy Horyn noted, “Right now we have a lot of people who are coming at [fashion journalism] from left field, and they can have some really wonderful insights into fashion and they can see it from their generation, which is fantastic…But then there’s also just the question of the knowledge about it, the span of time, so you can make judgments and conclusions that reflect the sense of history.” I hardly think that Kerry Washington can do that while judging Project Runway. Kelly Osbourne certainly doesn’t do it on Fashion Police, and even the savvy Rihanna doesn’t bring that kind of expertise to the table on her show, Styled to Rock. Celebrities’ commentary about the sartorial coups or disasters we see on the red carpet or reality TV are indeed entertaining, but criticism isn’t merely about cutting takedowns and gushing praise—it’s about the bigger picture.
“Traditional criticism set standards, so traditional critics wielded enormous amounts of power,” Tim Blanks once told me. “But the role of fashion criticism now is to express an opinion as lucidly, as graphically, and as entertainingly as you can.”
Stars are undoubtedly fashion influencers—just look at how Rihanna’s choice to wear Melitta Baumeister and Hyein Seo in Paris raised the up-and-comers’ profiles. But critics? Hardly. Now, I’m not saying that celebrity, or general, opinions are invalid or unimportant. I’m just saying that they’re not criticism. There is room for all sorts of musings—and all are welcome. The viewpoints of celebrities, consumers, style obsessives, critics, and beyond all work together to create a narrative, however, looking back thirty years from now, Cavallari’s comment during E!’s Oscars preshow that “Lupita has been killing it this season” won’t really tell us anything.
Will the general public gravitate toward celebrities rather than journalists for criticism? Sure, they’ll tune in to TV shows and celeb Twitter accounts to be amused (it is funny watching Joan Rivers rip apart red-carpet looks), but if they want the facts, they’ll come to the critics. As Vanessa Friedman told me in an interview last week, “There will always be a need for some sort of analysis and an informed opinion, and despite all the white noise and opinions we see on social media, people still want real information and facts.” I have to believe that this hunger for knowledge isn’t in spite of fashion’s increasing presence and importance in popular and celebrity culture, it’s because of it.
We need to be careful how we throw around the phrase “fashion critic.” Let’s not do to it what fashion writing has done to “iconic” or “chic”—that is to say, make it meaningless. Because what critics write does have meaning, and purpose, and I’d like to keep it that way.
Change is a’comin’. In the last six months, The New York Times’ key fashion critics and journalists—Eric Wilson, Cathy Horyn, and, most recently, Suzy Menkes—have departed the publication. (Wilson decamped to InStyle, Menkes is headed to International Vogue, and Horyn left for personal reasons.) But that’s not to say that the paper—which, thanks to Wilson’s wit, Horyn’s rapier pen, and Menkes’ learned insights, has offered up some of the most entertaining and informed fashion reporting of the last two decades—is losing its clout. Yesterday, the Times confirmed industry suspicions when it appointed Vanessa Friedman, formerly of the Financial Times, as its chief fashion critic and fashion director. Like her NYT predecessors, Friedman, who became the FT‘s first fashion editor in 2002, has a knack for not only critiquing fashion, but for helping us to understand it in a broader historical and cultural context. All one needs to do is read her recent takedown of Jeremy Scott’s first Moschino outing—which opened with the line, “Kiev was burning and in Milan, Jeremy Scott made his debut at Moschino with a series of bad jokes”—to understand what I’m talking about.
Friedman insists, however, that she is her own journalist—not Cathy Horyn, not Suzy Menkes—and when she dives into her new post next month, she plans to stick to her guns and honor her own voice, rather than focus on living up to the reputations of those who came before her. Here, Friedman speaks to Style.com about her new gig; the state of fashion criticism; and why, despite all the Internet’s white noise, readers still crave an expert opinion.
You were just hired for one of fashion journalism’s most prestigious positions. But why, in this day and age, is fashion criticism so important?
I think any kind of criticism is important, whether it’s fashion or another form of cultural analysis. And I think it always has been. There is a lot of talk about the rise of the blogger and social media and how everyone’s ability to become a critic has made formal critics less important. But I think what everyone is finding is that there is room for all sorts of opinions, some of them educated and some of them just literal. And I think the Times is an incredible platform to bring an educated, contextual, impersonal, analytical, historical, multicultural analysis to a forum, whether that’s books or music or movies or fashion.
Some say fashion critics aren’t always treated with the same respect as other reporters. Have you found that to be the case? Does fashion criticism deserve the same amount of respect as other forms of reporting?
Honestly, I haven’t found that to be the case. You know, I currently work at a highly financial-oriented newspaper, and I feel as legitimate and respected here as anybody. I think that if you treat your subject with seriousness and respect, other people tend to treat it the same way. The Times has a history of treating it that way, and I think that’s terrific. What’s interesting about fashion at the moment is that it has become a pervasive element in the general pop cultural conversation because of social media and the rise of visuals as a primary communication device. The first thing everyone talks about, whether they’re talking about film or music or presidents, is what they’re wearing. And that makes fashion a really interesting subject to look at, and one that’s relevant in a very broad context.
Given the power of advertisers these days, do you think it’s possible to be an unfettered critic? Do you feel you’re able to say what you want to say?
I’ve never, ever had an issue with this. It’s never crossed my mind and it’s never been something that’s been brought up to me. My feeling is that if you are a critic, what’s important is to be fair, and people respect that. They may not like it, but they are fine with it. And if you’re not willing to say when something is bad or a mistake, then when you say it’s good it means nothing.
What is your vision for the Times? Are you planning on changing anything?
I think it’s too early to say. I’m really excited to get to the newspaper—which isn’t going to happen for a couple of weeks—and meet everyone. Clearly, I’m a different person, a different writer than Cathy or Suzie or anyone else, so whatever I bring to the table is a specific point of view. But I think I’ll see when I get there.
In that same vein, how do you see yourself fitting into the team and the history of the New York Times in respect to Cathy? She had a reputation for being a spectacular—but often ruthless—critic. Do you aim to be the same?
No. I aim to be me. I would never aim to be the same as Cathy. She was terrific, and I have enormous respect for her and read everything she wrote. I loved sitting next to her at shows, I loved talking to her about lots of things—fashion and beyond. But we’re different people and we’re different writers. What I do will be different.
Your Moschino review was pretty sharp-tongued. What kind of response did you get to that piece?
Some people liked it, people agreed or disagreed. It was mostly via Twitter. I think Jeremy [Scott] tweeted his Facebook likes. But no one said anything, no one called me from Moschino and said, “How could you do that?” There was a reason I said what I said, it wasn’t just gratuitous, and hopefully I expressed that. I really look forward to seeing what he does next. Continue Reading “A Sign of the Times: Vanessa Friedman on the State of Fashion Criticism and Her New Gig” »
Following the departure of Cathy Horyn and Suzy Menkes, Vanessa Friedman, formerly the fashion editor of London’s Financial Times, is joining the New York Times as fashion director and chief fashion critic. She will begin at her new post next month.
Speculation among editors at last month’s shows was that Friedman had been lobbying hard for the Times position, and some even felt that it was no accident that her Moschino takedown in the FT had a certain Horyn-like vigor. Friedman has served as the FT‘s fashion editor since 2002. Prior to her role there, she was a regular contributor to such publications as The New Yorker and Vogue, and was the founding fashion and features director for InStyle UK. No doubt, she’ll make a strong addition to the evolving NY Times fashion team.
On Wednesday evening, at its recently christened Madison Avenue flagship, Pucci invited friends such as Carlyne Cerf de Dudzeele, Karla Otto, and Bibhu Mohapatra to fete the new edition of Taschen’s Emilio Pucci. The lushly illustrated tome—initially released as an oversize, limited-run epic covered in vintage fabric—has been given new life as a 416-page coffee-table book. Four different covers are available in Pucci’s signature acid-hued, kaleidoscopic prints, each of which was plucked from the archives. “We all believe that at a moment when the world is becoming bigger, it’s nice to make sure that people can understand where you come from,” offered Laudomia Pucci—Emilio’s daughter and the house’s vice president.
Style.com caught up with the book’s author (and Financial Times fashion editor), Vanessa Friedman. In between inscribing copies, she dished on what she believes makes Pucci so timeless. “It’s really about an attitude, as opposed to a particular style,” she said. “It’s not about a silhouette. It’s about a way of existing in your clothes, and a freedom that your clothes give you to move and feel good about yourself.”
Emilio Pucci is available now at Pucci boutiques, and at www.taschen.com.