Sunday, April 5, 2009
Only now with the Stephen Sprouse intervention can I say that if I had the bills I would consider an LV bag. Otherwise, you wouldn't find me flapping my mouth about them on this blog. I'm liking the skateboard too but I hate it when designers take things like bikes, rackets and tennis balls and try to charge us a month's rent for it. Stick to your garb, please.
I'm bored to tears these days with the major monthlies, and have cut back my purchases to either seasonals like Plastique, bi-monthlies like War (because I'm trying to get in on that), and yearlies like Love; and then any other pariah after that with an attractive cover. This collaboration is one of the few things that struck me in the latest stack of mags I bought. Each mag probably only had me taking away less than a handful of items and storing them in my fashionable spank bank. Like with Love magazine, it was the Pam Hogg editorial. With April's i-D, it was the 'In the Pink' feature on people's tats (which, I think, they SO should've taken more advantage of and expanded on - P.S. Jethro's in it, and I know how crazy everyone's getting over him, namely Zana and Jen), all the seuquin-y jackets from Margiela, and the Marios Schwab jumpsuit intertwined with rope (bondage is making its mark, wait for it), not to mention all the crystal and/or skeleton-printed awesome thangs from McQueen (what are they?), and the sudden barrage of BDSM caged masks on the models.
What I haven't got over yet, which made its way across most of the mags, is that slinky fringed Jil Sander dress that can only do you right if you were on a strict regime of tea leaves and diet coke.