Fashion Meets Art Meets Unpeerable Talent

Many have tried this approach. Some have failed, some have accomplished with the task; but none of them ever did it so hugely, undeniably, utterly well. Not even them themselves, until now. Not, at least, at these levels.

Viktor&Rolf got us used to amazement, awe and reverence, throughout the seasons: how to forget when they wrote NOs all over the models' faces, or those huge 3-D writings standing out from their coats; how to forget thei protest-catwalk, all digital, and with one model only ( Shalom, in case you had forgotten ). But this goes far beyond anything they've ever achieved: surely Viktor&Rolf, with their latest collection, hit a whole new level of...well, of "this".
Since there seem to be no more words to describe their sheer genious work, i'll just leave you with a selection of the most magnificent pieces from the show.

Yay. It seems like the Fashion+Art blend found a new God. Or, two, to be precise :)

[ Straight out of a Fairytale.Disney's Snow White's evil stepmother anyone? ]

[ Back to the ancient: Samotracia's Nike is what comes straight to my mind. ]

[ Corsets and volumes reminding of France's Renaissance? ]

[ The sun irradiating light? ]

[ Cinderella, cinderella...looks like the mices came to see ya! ]

[ Again, ancient greece, some goddes statue? ]

[ unconvential bride? ]

[ BY FAR MY FAVOURiTE PiECE. even more impressive when seen on the walking model ]

PS: DiY post soon to come! :D stay tuned

Woha, Woha...What's going on with Balmain!?

As a person, I do have rules. Speaking of which, probably the most important one is Always Be Coherent. Always stick to your ideas. But I have to admit that i have one peculiarity: My sense of CRiTiCiSM goes far beyond any rules or restrictions and CANNOT be corrupted by anything. When I start criticising, i can't stop, i'm like an avalanche. And i start to spit poison. I DO realise i'm MEAN and Straight-To-The-Point but despite hating this, i smile to myself thinking that this will probably make my fortune. However, this excursus was made to be clear about what i'm going to say.
Main point here.
Balmain.
Balmain has been my one and only god for the past two seasons. And normally, you act in defence of your God whatever happens. But [ there is always a 'but' ]. My disappointment in seeing the new collection has fallen over me out of nowhere, and despite a first resolution to act cool but never bite the hand that feeds me, words came to my throat and spilled out against my own will. Before i could know it, i was spitting my poison on the new collection.
Hell. I hate myself for saying so, but this collection really came out WRONG! I like that Balmain always stays Balmain, but that was fine until it seriously had been so. Now it looks as though a moltitude of hungry rats had managed to enter the Balmain studio and ruined all the clothes. I don't like the way it looks. All those holes, all that khaki+black or brown. Nay.
All the same, i have found some pieces i liked.
Here is the pieces i LOATHED the most.
It makes the model look deformed! Too much leather for a SUMMER collection. And that golden irregular skirt!?
But here is the look i loved the most. The military coat looks stunning.

s/s 10 Milan Fashion Week: Prada does it better.

And so, finally, s/s 10 Milan Fashion Week started. I'm following the updates with maniacal attention and have viewed the slideshows of the catwalks; and, until now, i've seen some things "woow" and some things "yuk". One thing's for certain. I hadn't seen such a perfect, A-to-Z collection since last season's Balmain and Gucci ones: PRADA is, by now, next season's indiscussed ruler.
Because it may seem obvious and tried-and-trusted to go for coloured, girly dresses for a season that marks the rebirth of nature, the return of the heat; But prada did it black and simple and minimalist, and did it better.
Strong cuts, simple shapes, B&W contrast, timeless elegance. The shoes as usual sum up the concept: Two stripes: An almost invisible one, and a black one. Simple. Elegant. a magistral selection of materials. Unfinished borders, harsh cuts, for leather, taffeta and silk.

Sea print for the shorts and beach print for the jacket. It's like being wrapped up in a celestial landscape, isn't it? And, on top of everything, red lipstick.

Elegant, simple, feminine.

PRADA DOES iT BETTER.

for more slides, click here http://www.elle.it/sfilate/content/tutte-le-foto/primavera-estate-10-collezioni/femme/milano/prada/prada

Skurylin?

Taaadaaan! As promised to dear Frank&Remy from WHOCARESiTSONLYFASHiON who couldn't wait for more updates, here it is!!
Yesterday i finished school at 12.10 and headed straight to Milan with a bunch of friends; i should have, in my intentions, taken my pohots from the Dior shoot, visited 10 Corso Como ( a fabolous multifunctional place ) and payed a visit to La Rinascente, which is, in case you were wondering, something like Harrods though on a smaller scale ( it's still 7 floors, all the same! ). I would have attained to my schedule iF it weren't that a) at Dior they told me they still didn't have the photos and i should check back next week and b) 10 Corso Como was out of hand and we should have changed too many metropolitan lines to go there and i didn't want to spend half my afternoon undeground even because, let's just say it, Milan Metropolitan hugely sucks.
So we ended up spending 2 hours at La Rinascente, going upstairs and downstairs in awe, acting just normal. I carried my Elle UK issue and it made me look very professional. ( Yes, i found a newsagent's in Via Montenapoleone selling, apparently, ONLY fashion magazines, but from all over the world. They had tons of vogues, Harper Bazaar, Dazed&Confused, and all the others! :D i just couldn't decide WHAT to buy ). Anyway i was absent-mindedly flicking through stuff when i came across a counter displaying awesome Alexander McQueen tees. They were so good that my brain started working, and working fast. I headed to H&M, bought a white basic tee, then, once come home, rushed to buy textile pens and the work began.........

Dissacrative yet commemorative, the image was an amazing mixture of trash, insulting, and SHEER GENiOUS.

that's what i called it. Scurylin. Half skull, half marylin, it'll be hard for me to pull this tee off.

Feel anything's missing? that i should add something? Please let me know :D !

apologies and promises.

Guys, i know it's incredible, i know i've been missing for quite a while now, but i'm back, at least, sort of.

school's been giving be a break the past two days and i've spent them well basically...passing out on my couch at 2.30 until like 7- i know i'm terrible it's just this bad habit of having to wake at 6 every morning.

No pics of me since i'm starting to look terrible for the sleep prevation business!

I want in the first place to apologise.

1st, I apologise for not commenting your blogs in the past few days, but i really couldn't find a single second and you're oh so many!

2nd, I apologise for idiotic posts. When i first started my blog, i didn't mean for it to become my outburst valve, it was meant to be my fashion blog, to show everyone what i was worth. I realise, though, that i have kind of mixed the two things together, and i'm afraid i have failed the attempt of a serious blog. I never even told you why i started this. The reason i started this is that i really, really, want to become something in the field of Fashion ( ah-ha, surpriiise, suurpriiise! ) and more specifically a Fashion Editor. There's just something about fashion magazines that drives me crazy. In the positive way. The only idea of all the creativity implied in every single issue makes my head spin. Acutally, i would accept any fashion-related job, really. But that, oh that really would be great.

I never told you this, but now i have, and here, above, is one of my paintings. Among the other things, i always loved drawing. I attend a course at school, where really, no one teaches you anything, and it's more like, a bunch of drawing lovers drawing in silence altogether in a creative ambient; but i feel like my skills have improved, somehow, thanks to the corrections of my professor. At the end of every year, we hold this show that actually consists of our drawings hung on the noticeboard. This is one of my drawings from last year's exposition, from a B&W editorial: my professor suggested that i paint some coloured particular so i went for the red boots. Though i really didn't approve the idea of colouring something that originally was not, for i tend to think of an image as sacred and perfect in its realisation and am not keen on chaning its nature, i pretty much liked the effect it created.

What do you think about it? Is it any good?

in the second place, i wanted to make a solemn promise. That from now on, i will make an effort to prove you that i would be a great fashion editor :D

Oh, it takes a fool to remain sane.

[ 1st day school outfit ]

Heyyyy hi folks. I did want to post something meaningful today but school has officially begun and this means that i've wasted every single bit of energy and concentration in an effort not to go mental. I went to bed very late, trying to catch the main points of one of the many books i should have read this summer but haven't [ which is stupid since i discovered it's a very fine book..scary, since it is only sane that i should hate italo calvino but i happen to quite adore it ] and i was beginning to feel anxious. Bet hey, i was so tired. Anyway, my body seems to know in advance what my mind doesn't want to assume. school has begun. at a quarter past 5, when my dad woke up, i woke up, too. I wasn't sleeping well any longer. At 5 my sleep always becomes tormented, if not at 4, fearing that i won't wake up and miss the buss. when i suddenly became concious, i realised it was pouring outside. Pouring is not even the exact word. There was such a noise it sounded like an amplified bowling match. hell- i thought-i seriously hope it stops in one hour because i have no rain shoes. This happens to be riddicolous. I have an awful amount of shoes but every year i complain i have no shoes for the rainy days. That's because i never buy them. i begin a struggle with my blankets and pillow. I keep on waking and then falling asleep again and when i finally wake at 6 my bed seems like a battle field. I remember feeling angry but can't recall the reason. I woke up, got dressed, and went straight to the bathroom, where as per usual my make up was the longest task in the morning. Looking like a zombie is not my highest aspiration and that's why i re-paint my face like a masterpiece every single morning. By 6.30 i was ready for my usual breakfast-on-the-go that means a dietetic bar and a yoghurt whike walking to the bus stop. My mom, though, since it was raining cats and dogs, was clement and sympathetic and brought me there by car. it's always been sunny and bright on my first school day. Always. AND HOT. Now i'm freezing and shivering and it's pourng and i don't feel any excitement at all. If anything, i'm pissed. Pissed by this whole thing. But when i see my old friends of everyday, that i hadn't seen all summer, a bit of the uneasiness fades and somehow, i start to feel a spark of excitement. I've just told my mum that i will channel this whole bad energy into the usual tricks that the older students ( that means 4th and 5th year and i am 4th now! ) play on the first year ones on the bus, when i discover that we're just seven on our coach and there are no first year students!! hell, these bastards want to avoid tricks. That's not fair. This means that as soon as they happen under our hands, they will suffer the pain of hell. Every one of us has endured this kind of tricks on their first school days. With a difference, that older students used to be far more cruel and merciless than we are now. I still remember the fear of the trick, the anxiety wondering what will be mine? the are thousands. Measuring the perimeter of the bus with a one cent coin. Being written with pens. Singing silly songs. And these are just the nicer ones. But no one of us ever dared complain or tried to avoid them. They're a normal rite of passage and after some years, we all remember it with an affectionate smile.

As we approach Pavia i grow more and more anxious. By the time i'm in front of the school entrance, i'm tense like a violin chord. It's a mixture of fears. There're people i've been avoiding since july, i'm afraid of embarassing encounters. And there are people i just don't feel a urge to see. There's the certainty that once in, freedom will be gone and sanity too. But i still walk, crawl up three storeys of stairs until i reach my class. No embarassing encounters so far. Yay. I come in, there's no warm welcoming. Maybe we're just too tired. It's my desk mate birthday today, i greet her, we're in the third row ( out of four ). That makes me happy since i've spent the last year in the first row, central, right in front of the teacher's desk, and hated every second of it.

I go out. It's strange. People are missing. One person is missing and that makes me happy, but i have to admit it feels strange. I expect he will walk out his class at any moment, making me feel shit, but i know he won't. The bell rings far too soon, and i go inside. We have a new classmate. I pray and hope and pray and pray let him be gorgeous oh please but he's not. He sucks. What's the point in having a new classmate if he isn't even handsome? The three hours of lesson never pass. We have started the literature programme already. after three months of holiday i remember virtually nothing. My classmates make me laugh, though, and this makes it a whole lot more standable.

I'm tired. I'm dead tired. I've already drank a litre of milk trying to recovered. It's like i've been going to school for months.

I promise i'll post more serious stuff as soon as possible, guys.

VFNO @ Milan.

The afternoon before VFNO should be the best ever: i'm famous for being crazy before a social event, like, preparing myself 24 hours before, but yesterday something was wrong, and i just couldn't get in the mood. I was not excited, and that terrified me. It's just that things kept on going wrong. First my daddy had to go to the ER because he had something in one eye. Then my auntie calls and says she's not gonna come because she was sick and had to come home from work early. So without my aunti and with my daddy's impossibility to drive us there, i was seeing the worst scenarios just before my eyes. Then i discover that since my aunti is not gonna come, we can go there earlier, so i have to prepare myself at the speed of light. I am fully dressed wearing my DiY cherry red high waist skirt, white shirt and short black blazer with shoulder pads, all matched with my studded headband and clutch, when i discover that the only shoes that could match the outfit are suddenly TOO BiG. Like my feet are shrinking. I'm on the edge of a nervous breakdown and i burst itno tears for the zillionth time. My father looks like hook captain with thig huge white thing on half his face and he, the least fashionable person, with the ugliest wardrobe ever, shopping hater and celebrities despiser, plus fashion total iGNORANT, is going to come with ME to VFNO. Then my outfit doesn't work. My nailpolish keeps on screwing without any conceivable reason. I'm going crazy. VFNO is, until now, nothing like i'd expected.

So i pull out my usual black pants, a long sleeved grey zara t-shirt with sequins, my blazer, and put on zara heeled shoes and i'm ready for it. But i'm not content at all.

Once in the car, on my way to Milan, the radio is going crazy with VFNO. They have reporters at Giorgio Armani and they're very excited. I'm feeling shivers. I'm going to an event they're talking to ON THE RADiO. this is the hugest thing in my life.
We park our car and take the metro and get to Piazza del Duomo. it's just the beginning. I suggest the first of many out-of-schedule stops, at H&M: I'm doing this because a) my mom needs to buy a VFNO tee for her friend and b) i'm sweating like a PONY since Milan is proving to have a tropical micro climate and i need to buy myself a tank or something to survive the night.
That was the beginning of the fun. That H&M is huge and i kept going upstairs and downstairs hurriedly looking for a suitable tank, not having time to choose a proper one. In the end i got that nice silk blouse, very loose and comfy and a nice colour, between silver and pink, and black ankle boots...and no tee for my mom's friend. There was an endless queue for the Changing Rooms but i am a smart person, so i went out of H&M and spotted what i was looking for: tezenis, an underwear shop, it was empty except for the workers so i took the first bra i saw and headed towards the Chaning rooms where i changed my heavy long sleeved tee for the comfy silk blouse and confidently walked out the shop. It was too much fun, LOL.
I headed towards the richest Zone of Milan, the one hosting all the fashion boutiques, and THERE was the real party. Via Montenapoleone was a stream of people. But not "whoever" people. I was soon to realise that. I went in loads of shops. Louis Vuitton was first. A photographer gifted me a polaroid of myself in front of a shelf full of LV suitcases. That's hung on my fridge next to the ones of me with Abercrombie's Model. Then came Gucci. If louis Vuitton was amazing, i could actually see the new season clothes and i saw, you know, that dress madonna bravely showed up in.. Gucci was even better. There were models with the new season clothes. They were stunning. I had never seen haute fashion models in reality and they looked gorgeous. They were so effin tall!! I felt even shorter than usual, if possible, though i was wearing my 11cm heels. Then at some point i am wandering in the shop and this guy all dressed up comes offering me chocolate. No, wait, look better. that's a GUCCi PRiNT on the chocolate!! I smile and take one and i'm afraid to eat it, because god, there's a gucci pattern on it. My mom and dad, of course, have already eaten it, without even realising. They were complaining earlier on for they empty stomachs and were actually hoping to eat. I tried to tell them that , really, no one ever eats at fashion events.They were skeptical, thinking i was being cynical as per usual. Now they were beginning to realise i was not. we went forward and spotted Iceberg. It wasn't on my schedule either: but, oh, fuck the schedule, i needed to buy that VFNO tee. I drank champagne and there was a stylist sat down on a couch behind me, lazily talking to two friends. I was drinking champagne, in a boutique, with a stylist that near while a handsome guy was wrapping up two tees for me ( yeah i couldn't resist i bought one for me too ). It was surreal, and i was behaving, like..Normal. I felt in my own dimension.
Out of iceberg we saw an unbelievable crowd in front of versace. I couldn't understand why. and then i saw it. There were photographers, reporters, i saw HER HAiR. DONATELLA in person was there. I went crazy. I gave all my bags to my dad, and was determined to go up there. my mom thought it impossible. I din't. I made my way up there and actually saw the italian director of Vogue and the Milan Major ( a woman ) going out of the boutique. I was shoulder to shoulder with the most important tv reporters. Then i suddenly was inside. There were more celebs than real people in it. and there was donatella, taking photos with people. by the time i got to her, i didn't have a chance to take a photo with her, because she did have to go. i couldn't even open my mouth to ask her for an autograph. I was happy. I went out and saw other plenty of italian celebrities. My tour continued. yves saint laurent, then Dior. At Dior they shot me amazing photos on a couch with a ginormous cream Dior bag. But i've got to go and claim them form wednesday on. and then came Pucci. at Pucci i asked a girl for the price of a silk scarf. They were in limited edition so i thought they were at popular price. How silly of me. When she easily said it was 210€ i acted normal but was thinking now how can i get rid of her without making it obivious that i don't mean to spend so much for a silk scarf? then the magic happened. The girl disappeared: i went upstairs and then after a while went downstairs again and walked out of the shop, in hysterical laughter. God that was so much fun.
i've been in so many shops, drunk so much champagne, that i actually find it hard to remember exactly what i did let alone in which order. I only know that i've seen Eva Cavalli peasedly sat down out of Just Cavalli where i bought a beautiful foulard and, again...drank champagne.
That i've been to Chanel, where they made me a "tatoo" with their logo and gifted me two "bracelets" sprayed with limited edition perfumes. And that i've drunk pear juice.
it's been the greatest night of my entire existence. And, just now, my friend told me that he's seen me in television. In television for god's sake!!! I have missed it!!! that means tonight i'll have to watch every service on VFNO because I'M iN iT!!! can you believe it!?!? Hell as soon as they publish it on their website i'm giving you all the link.


i'm on television.

















[ Amazing fiat fake cars....with plants planted in them! ]

[ Donatella @ versace's. ]

[another italian celeb, Alessia Marcuzzi, @ versace's ]

[ Pucci's entrance. ]

[ Chanel Tatoo!]

[ chanel bracelet]

[ My make up for the night]

[Just Cavalli Shopping bag....]

[ H&M shopping bag ]

[Iceberg shopping bag]

[Me taking silly photos in my car while listening to Lady Gaga's paparazzi on the radio! ]