February 18, 2013

The Power of Light

Installation Art has never been my bag. I view it as a cop out – if you can’t draw – which doesn’t seem to be a prerequisite of an artist these days – then install. And then write high fluting words about your creation with the greater the number of words corresponding to a sliding scale downwards of the final visual experience. A 3D philosophy where the words come first, it costs loads of money and ultimately can’t fit in my house.

But every now and then I am proved wrong.

I was very fortunate to spend nearly three years living in Northern Italy, up in the lakes above Milan but below the Alps in the town of Varese: A truly magical part of the world. The Husband and I lived on the top floor of a beautiful old villa where changing the light bulbs was always a challenge because the ceilings were so high. In walking distance, close enough for a regular coffee stop, was one of my most favourite places ever, ever, ever: Villa Panza.

On the outside it was a typical villa of the region, built by a wealthy Milanese family as an escape from the heat of the summer. The style, the terracotta roof, the pale yellow and the dark green shutters matched our villa.

And the interior, at first glance, fitted the traditional stereotype: Timeless elegance with grand baroque swirls.

Except it wasn’t. Can you see the canvas on the left? Big, bold and modern?

The last owner, Guiseppe Panza was a true admirer of modern art and believed it worked in any setting. In every room antiques sit side by side with the unexpected, all in perfect harmony. I loved it.

The interior is a testament to the power of colour, but Guiseppe went further, he celebrated the power of light, he converted the stables to hold his amazing collection of light installations. I first went there with a fair amount of trepidation.

It blew my mind away.

It was not just about what you were seeing, but how you reacted to it – how your brain and senses reacted. Stand in this room and do you know where the ceiling is? Is there is a ceiling? Where is the floor? Where is it now?

There was one room that was red. You stayed in it till your eyes tuned it down to a pinky white (did you know your eyes could do this? I didn’t) The next room you went to was green. Except it wasn’t. It was white – it was just your eyes were sending different messages to your brain based on their red experience and it took them time to catch up. Wild. Every room was off a corridor. And every time you walked further down the corridor, it changed.

Was it because of the new colours you were seeing? or was it because of what your brain was experiencing? Bonkers. There were simpler installations..

Capturing the movement of shadows or simply showing that if framed, the sky is a continually changing canvas.

Villa Panza and her light installations still ranks as one of my top ‘wow’ moments. It taught me that it is possible to use art to transform ones perceptions and expectations, to drag life outside the box and breathe fresh air.

At the moment, the Hayward Gallery on the Southbank is holding the ‘Light Show’. I had to go – but my camera wouldn’t work so I only have this photo…

But if you possibly can, go see things that you know you can touch, except you can’t. Walk into a space where colour replaces shadow or another where shadows stir your mind and make you feel drunk. Go find diamonds suspended in air and staircases with no-where to go. Go and enjoy a thoroughly enjoyable art experience and walk the wild side of reality. It’s not a beautiful villa in Italy – but it’s pretty damn good. Promise.

Laters, Kate x

February 16, 2013

Where Have All The Long Boots Gone?

Mine are gathering dust under the bed somewhere…have you seen yours this winter?

I was originally really dubious as to whether I could embrace the shoe-boot phenomenon. I was wearing these babes in the eighties when they were romantically named the ‘pixie boot’ And that’s what they did – made you look short. Meanwhile the long boot was my lust of choice and they had to be long – not over the knee/merry men style but Polo riding and gorgeous grenadier guards in full flight – you know how the way the knee just bends out of the top into firm thigh, ready to spring into action, mud flying, muscles quivering…I think I need to get this out of my system…

Sigh. The long boot doesn’t sit on your calf at the widest part of your lower leg – it elongates and accentuates…I’m slipping again..Mr Darcy and Pride and prejudice is coming to me in waves…

Forsooth, I must apologies, as Jane Austen wrote herself – ‘A lady’s imagination is very rapid’…and to return to the aforesaid subject. These are my favourites:

Good square heel, that particular tan colour – almost orangey with a nod to the seventies, great with skinny jeans, fab with cut off denim minis, could dress down a silk dress – they were the staple of my winter wardrobe…my first large purchase when I had some money to burn…but like the large bumble bee, they are all but gone…replaced by these:

Look through all the online shoe sites – the long boot is a rare beast – I’ve heard tell of a come back next season – but I can’t feel it in my waters yet, instead the object of present desire are these by Tabitha Simmons at Creatures of the Wind:

Already flagged on two great blogs – at Garance Dore and ManRepeller – and you know when something is in the air.. see it on one Blog……and then it gets mentioned again….and there is an inevitability… an immediate attraction – it’s the elegant sibling of what we’ve all been living in – the ~~jushed~~ ~~jooshed~~ ~~jouzched~~ – damn it, juzzsched? up version the wild woman of the night, the eloquent taxi shoe for glam nights and elicit cocktails. Yum.

But I can take a step back – this has reminded me not to forsake my old faithfuls entirely – which pair will get me to the school run and back again, year after year? And perhaps with a little boot polish and some elbow grease, I’ll actually be ahead of the game…

Laters, Kate x

February 14, 2013

Thing of Beauty

I bought this at a rather lovely antiquey warehouse (the Husband would say junk shop) in Hampshire. I still haven’t decided whether it is a ball of hydrangea blossom or a head of rounded lilac but j’adore it’s feminine charm and delicate presence. I store my earrings in it – but wouldn’t it be the cat’s whiskers to have an extra large one filled with your favourite face cream? Gorgeously decadent.

Laters, Kate x

February 12, 2013

New York Fashion Week in the Snow

I’ve been looking at all the pictures coming in of New York in the snow..

And between you and me, I’m a thinking that snow and fashion just don’t mix…

But hey – it’s Fashion Week! It’s New York! It’s an inspirational combination!

Except something is nagging in the back of my mind, a niggling, whispering, wicked little voice saying this just isn’t right…. isn’t normal, isn’t human…

I’m loving the style…but tell me, do you hand your skirt over at the cloakroom? And is that before or after you’ve floated there because if you can walk in those heels lady, I’m a pink leprechaun with purple spots, even without the snow…

Ladies, tres tres chic…but please,Why isn’t your pristine fur covered in clinging wet slush? Your tights ripped – your knees gashed? Your bottoms blue?

I love it!…but I have to ask – don’t your toes get cold?

You left in a hurry…but it’s not worth getting hyperthermia for…just put them on.

And socks, add socks..

You too – I’ll actually be able to see your feet turning blue. You can wear gloves? So why not something decent for your poor feet?

These could either be a rare pair of socks. Or an extreme form of fashionista gangrene.

I look…I like…I think inevitable banana skins…

Bet these looked good in the shop. A nice, warm shop. A dry shop. With thick piled carpet to stride on without a care in the world…

My ultimate wish:

1. To be a fly on a wall to see if these people can actually move. Safely. In a dignified manner. More than 2 feet.

And

2. If they can ~~shuffle~~ walk – To be magically enhanced with whatever biological gene/super power they have that I am certainly lacking. Snow or no snow.

Laters, Kate x

February 11, 2013

Lust and Function

Shock, horror…

In my last post I dared to criticise the high citadel of Celine and shamefully suggested that beauty should come before comfort.

But that’s just spin. In fact I criticised spending lots of money on orthopedic shoes when they can be bought cheaper elsewhere. Comfort is actually the third word of the holy trinity after beauty and desirability – admittedly, it’s the most neglected of the three…but perhaps it’s strength comes with age…or maybe it is something else. There is a Blog I love to read called The ManRepeller, the basis of this Blog is that the esteemable writer, Leandra Medine, realised the clothes she wore, despite the fact the she loved them, repelled the majority of men. I thoroughly recommend a good, long trawl through her posts because not only does she write brilliantly, she is a kindred spirit. I have also taken the liberty of pasting Leandra’s own definition of what Manrepelling is exactly as no-one explains it better than her:

WHAT IS A MAN REPELLER?

man·re·pell·er¹ [mahn-ree-peller]

–noun

outfitting oneself in a sartorially offensive mode that may result in repelling members of the opposite sex. Such garments include but are not limited to harem pants, boyfriend jeans, overalls (see: human repelling), shoulder pads, full length jumpsuits, jewelry that resembles violent weaponry and clogs.

–verb (used without object),-pell·ing, -pell·ed.

to commit the act of repelling men:

Girl 1: What are you wearing tonight?

Girl 2: My sweet lime green drop crotch utility pants, of course.

Girl 1: Oh, so we’re man repelling tonight?

*DISCLAIMER: the above conversation took place in this room 5 minutes ago.

Origin:
2009-10; < repellius (ptp. of repellia to eliminate male attention), equiv. to L repel– (s. of repellix) unattractive, celibate, paris fashion week, M.C. Hammer + -repel –ler¹

Photo by Bridget Fleming, suit by DVF, Leadra Medine, The Manrepeller.

And she is so right. But wearing these items can be a joy and you should never bury the way you feel. Which is what her Blog is all about – if clothes are your expression, feel free to express yourself, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Don’t let who you are become secondary to what everyone else wants you to be. In fact clothes that fit the Manrepeller category – a) loose b) androgenous are generally the most comfortable to wear …..and also leave the most to the imagination – a combination which sums up why so many of them are represented in my own personal ‘hero’ styles. For instance, take the classic flat, manly, lace-up Brogue:

No! not that one! That’s the female insipid watered down version of the Brogue that shoe designers think they have to offer because of a perceived vision of ~~clownlikeness~~ ~~clownlyness~~ clownishness (is that really a word?) that exists in their minds only – they too have become obsessed with size zero and forget that chunk can be good.

Be still my beating heart – those are they!..and see how easy they are to wear..

No! No! No! Not like that…not the geeky school girl look – I’m far to old for that..

Or the vintage ration book look with a short skirt…

Katherine Hepburn. That’s more like it. A winning combination of cut and flow with the whisper of silk and the confidence of a classic.

Twiggy too

Long wide trousers, or loose, casual three quarter lengths

Socks can strangely work

Or not

Layering is great

Smart is good. And wear them with skirts. Longer skirts.

And dresses..lovely dresses

For me, the longer length is easier the way to go, but if you’re still picking spots then she rocks this.

As does she

Where can I get a manly brogue I hear you say. Look no further than Grenson – a British brand with quality to match..

And my ultimate favs and firmly on the wish list, The Rose. Sigh:

If the Grenson price is a sticking point (The rose comes in at £265.00)…swallow your pride, embrace your blushes and buy a pair from your nearest, dearest’s men’s department – clunky, classic and cool – come take a comfortable walk back to reality. You’ll thank me.

Laters, Kate x

February 7, 2013

Feet on The Ground

I was flicking through my March edition of Vogue, as you do, when my eye alighted on these adverts for Celine. I am a huge devotee and happily lapped up the sharp tailoring with gentle flare, the feminine take on boyish charm…

..the elegant simplicity, the aspirational something you can’t quite put your finger on, the WHAT THE F*CK IS THAT?? I took a closer look…

Slap me with a cold, wet fish…but what are those? And I am still in shock as to what offends me more – the orthopeadic style? or the BLUE FUR INSOLE IN A SUMMER SANDAL??? In a shoot beside a SWIMMING POOL??????

I find myself viewing this paradox of multi faceted distortion through a lens of wonder with eyes slightly popping and mouth agog..

Are we looking at the modern version of the Emperor’s new clothes of acceptance without question? A story of pictures where powerful fashion houses can impose a narrative, a romance onto things that intrinsically have no attractiveness and that we blindly follow?…Cheer and wave pretty flags because it is Celine..

Or is it that when set against each other, ugly displays beauty better?

Or is it an engrossing, original, provocative comment on life that perfection is always unattainable?

Or is it a secret signal to say book your foot op now because no-one will guess…

I am a girl who likes her mixes – high end with a t-shirt or these joseph trousers – joggers, but made in silk. Delish.

But I will always hold true to the Shaker philosophy ‘Don’t make something unless it is both necessary and useful; but if it is both necessary and useful, don’t hesitate to make it beautiful.’

Utterly banal or totally profound, I give you this pair of shoes from Webster Shoes:

At £69.00 probably a snip of the price and easily accessorized with a bit of fur….suitable for arthritis, diabetic foot, poor circulation, swollen feet and ankles…and bunions.

Laters, Kate x

February 7, 2013

Working hard

February 5, 2013

A day in London

Saturday was one of those days – the husband was away at the Rugby (good game, they won, smiles all round) and the weather was a bit blue, a bit grey and very cold. So where better to drag the kids to than a trip to the Southbank? Except that’s not exactly where we intended to go – the initial thought was for Portabello Market, but hey, throw in the circle and district lines not working and we become ever adaptable, particularly when one is standing in the middle of Victoria Station thinking I have two small children to impress with my inventiveness…we took the 507 to Waterloo.

But the Southbank is a little – rather big – gem hidden in the depths of our urban jungle. If a stranger to London wanted an itinerary for a single day I would always say head to Waterloo, get out and start walking to Greenwich along the Thames and pass a multitude of wonders: The Tate Modern, HMS Belfast, Borough Market, The Design Museum and a host of others.

Heading off with Charlie carrying all his toys in fetching bags.

Can you see what’s in them? Dinosaurs!

My daughter the papper!

First stop the amazing food market on Belvedere Road at the Southbank Centre. It is the perfect pits stop: Beautiful breads, fresh smelly cheeses, street food to die for, somethings ready to go, others ready to cook, tastes and aromas to make any heart sing.

I treated us to some of these. Delicious eh? The kids refused to eat them – I swear mine are the only children that would turn their noses up at Spanish doughnuts dunked in melted chocolate. It was a hardship, but I ate the lot…

Here! Another random find on our ramble – and very close to the Hayward Gallery where the Light Show is on. Really worth a visit, but more of that on another post.

Bella and Charlie were bemused by the boat left stranded on the top of the Queen Elizabeth Hall. In fact it’s London’s most exclusive hotel room – when you stay you get to raise a flag to signal you are there. You can only hope the bed is down the other end.

A wonderful busker that made me laugh. Every time he puffed, fire appeared. I did busking in my youth, many moons ago. And never involving fire.

A much needed hot chocolate stop. It was freezing!

You never know what you are going to see next..

We threw our coins. And then the tide started coming in..

Time to clear away..

And head home with the knowledge that in simple things you sometimes find the world. Kate x

January 28, 2013

Fuerzabruta

To indulge the creative brain cells and shake things up go to Fuerzabruta at The Roundhouse, Camden Town – a retina-searing sensory overload of unrestrained emotion. If you get the chance – GO!