"Portrait of the Addict as a Young Man" A memoir by Bill Clegg

I was going to start in on a Resort Collection I've been thinking about but have decided to hold off for the moment. Feel like talking books? I do, so let's talk.

There's a new one hot off the presses that was published a couple of days ago, or maybe it was yesterday. I'd been reading about it in the New Yorker, The New York Observer and Vogue, no less. So I finished the one I was in and jumped on it by way of my Kindle. I'm not a huge Kindle fan, but when you need a book at 10 p.m., most book stores are closed and I can't sleep without a book to tuck me in. You'd think after Proust's "Guermantes Way"(10,000 pages and it's all one sentence) I'd essentially be all f***** out in the reading department, but I needed more, just like the author Bill Clegg needed more crack , the subject of this harrowing hell ride. With a certain degree of trepidation I ordered it and 60 seconds later, like the perfect dealer who makes house calls at odd hours, the book was loaded onto my screen.

This memoir is as much a dark passage as it is the ultimate cautionary tale. What does it have to do with fashion? What does it have to do with lives more conventionally lived? I think it has an awful lot to do with both. It's all over the place, but mostly it's that deep seated fear so many of us live with that manifests itself in all sorts of forms of acting out. Fashion in particular and the creative Arts in general is infested with people with junkie mind sets. The drugs of choice are attention, outrageous behavior, booze, sex, drugs, wealth, notoriety, self aggrandizement, workaholism and just unsatisfied lives and unhealthy living. Those life extinguishing patterns are common with so many people beyond the confines of fashion. They bleed into all forms of the Arts, Finance, Education, Government and home life. So it's everywhere.

Clegg takes us on a journey in this blessedly slim novel, whose signposts are dizzying numbers of glamorous hotels he uses as crack dens, dealers who deliver thousands of dollars worth of the drug as often as most of us have a coffee, take showers or just breathe.We're introduced to hustlers, derelicts and just plain unsavory folks (they're just the white-collar cast) and that's before we get glimpses of the truly down and out. His writing style is spare but also the equivalent of a blunt object wielding fiend who doesn't quit swinging until long after the victim is nothing more than over tenderized meat. I was so uncomfortable and anxious I hardly took a deep breath in the 5 hours it took to get through it along with 2 shower breaks and three cups of calming tea, not to mention about a half a pack of cigarettes. One thing I was clear on was I didn't want today to start with another page. This book needed to be finished in one sitting.

His story brought to mind the price so many people pay for self destructive behavior. Drinking too much and smoking are awful for ones health, both mental and physical. Crack addiction along with a few other choice drugs is a someone just begging to be mowed down by an oncoming 18 wheeler. I was reminded of the time I decided I needed to stop drinking, or else. Like Bill Clegg so many of us come to these habits and addictions as kids. What was experimentation, naughty and incredibly fun, can too easily develop into a way of life. High School, College, then Adulthood in the big or small city does little to break those patterns. He was a product of some messy family dynamics, like many of us, overly sensitive and creative, like so many more of us and fell into a cozy ditch he took along with him into adulthood, like most people I know, in one form or another. The difference being he embraced this free fall like a gibbon embraces anything he can get those frighteningly long arms around. I won't spoil it by telling you too much, but I do recommend you take a look at this book. Though I never had experiences that came close to his, I still felt like a passenger in his car as he drove at break neck speed with both hands on his pipe and not on the wheel...forget looking at the road.

It took me back to the insanity of collection time and the pressures I was under to get the work done, to succeed and not fail, to support a staff, maintain and improve my reputation and find value and self esteem through other people's opinions of my worth. If that isn't a recipe for a melt down I don't know what is. I would venture to say that many in this field live the same sort of hollow, "chasing the dragon" sort of existence that does nothing short of grinding one down slowly or quickly.

I don't know what I was expecting to find in this book. Maybe titillation or an opportunity to say to myself that thank god it's not me, instead, some blonde, blue-eyed, good old boy, A-Gay, Icarus type whose flight to the sun scorched his wings, crack pipe, ATM card and reputation all in one fell swoop. What I found was a story that I could relate to, that made me terrifically anxious and uncomfortable. I found myself looking at how we all go from day to day and the mistakes we make that can be fatal in figurative and literal ways. I found that I don't want that sort of high wire life where it's all or nothing.

Eric Wilson is a Man for all Seasons.

Eric Wilson is a man for all seasons, not just resort, pre-spring, spring, pre-fall and fall, but all the time. I enjoy his dry, droll humor and microscopic/telescopic eye for the finer points of this business. I'm sure that this "business" is often tight sneakers for him. He's surely itchy for subjects and events that resonate beyond Madison Ave, the Via Corso or Place de Victoire. Nevertheless, I enjoy his wry take on whatever is stumbling down the runway.
Some of you will surely think that I write this because of the "outing" he gave me in the Times almost a year ago. He did me an unplanned-for honor by that piece, but I had no idea what would come from it. My life did change and that change has not necessarily been a walk in the park. Having said that, let me continue.
I'm inclined to focus on him after reading his story the other day in the New York Times about the CFDA Awards and its shift in focus from the seasoned designers and brands towards the teeny boppers who have edged closer to center stage. Its not a put down, but the unnatural cycle of things in these turbo charged times we find ourselves living in. How else can you explain the ascent of an Alexander Wang, Jason Wu or any number of relatively new companies that have risen to the top. His description of the CFDA journal reminding him of Tiger Beat magazine was so spot on. I remember that magazine so clearly. It is a mirror image of the heart throb designers who are the rising stars. Never before (not since the 80's and 90's) have there been such a force of posing, pouty faces that shift the focus from the work to their photogenics: think Jack Lazarro.

There was a time when we were inundated with pretty boys like David Cameron, Christian Francis Roth, Victor Alfaro and Angel Estrada, just to name a few. They burned bright and flamed out. They were talented each in his own way and worked hard. Now there are crowds of attractive young men who also have talent and work hard, but seem to divide their time equally with the marketing of their faces as well as their collections, I guess that's the definition of branding. It never seemed more like a beauty contest as it does lately. Eric Wilson seems to be blind to the hype in fundamental ways that some older veteran editors are not. Fawning, uncritical editors,well past retirement age are annoying and start to look like junior reporters for Fashionista.com.
He never gushes , even when he likes something. He also never slashes when he doesn't , though he makes it plain and clear when something or someone has performed poorly. I love the subtlety of his message and always learn something from him. Sure, there are times when I wonder why he's not swept up in rapture over a collection that flips me out but I find myself learning more from him and appreciating his analysis that much more when he's cool and not hot. He's a master of metaphor an the quietly uttered reality check. As a rookie blogger who tries to dig just a little deeper, I hope to be thoughtful in sharing my views, kinda like Eric. He's many things to many people, but thoughtful is the quality that I think most would have to attribute to him. I know some who find him remote, even a bit icy, but I think he walks that tightrope much like the Frenchman whose danced his way between the Twin Towers so long ago. So even if this job is old hat or an exciting treasure hunt for him, he's an adept journalist and one I enjoy.

And the winner is.......

I was feelin' lucky tonight . I was sure I'd won the Trifecta, but Jason Wu slithered past the 2 horses on the outside, the Mighty Gurung and Altuzarra to inch ahead by a nose. Well, there's nothing more prestigious than that coveted award and I applaud any fortunate soul to be awarded one. Perhaps the only thing more exciting than winning one is perhaps winning 3 or 5, but seriously, Bravo to all who were awarded. This business is about 90% hard work ,5% glamor/perks and the other 5% you're asleep. Anyone lucky to be nominated is batting a 1000.

Tom Ford probably reached his quota(5 awards) which was good for Rag and Bone who took home best Menswear. Marc Jacobs, who thanked Bloggers and his partner in the biz, Patrick Duffy, won for best Womenswear, which I predicted along with Alexander Wang's win for the Swarovski top award for Accessories. It just goes to show you that ugly has taken a front row seat to pretty. I heard that Pretty was turned away at the door...something about not being on the Guest list. But that's not a surprise either, considering Desiree Rogers was temping as the Hostess checking in guests tonight. A big deal was made over Wi-Fi being provided for bloggers and twitterers to broadcast throughout the evening's proceedings. My question is Who in the Blogging world was invited? I'm transmitting from my ultra exclusive front row seat in the VIP section of my living room in Brooklyn Heights with Housewives of New Jersey on, just to keep me honest!

Sure enough, Fashionista, committed the unspeakable by referring to Alexander McQueen as "Lee". That brand of presumption is in such poor taste and beyond the limits of decorum. Again, I'm not surprised. They banned me from commenting on their blog. Their brand of familiarity is contemptible. The pics of the guests will flood the Internet any minute. SJParker passed on her shopworn Halston for a shot at a couture McQueen designed by the new creative director, Sarah Burton. There was a presentation on stage of his last works when his Special Tribute Award was announced. That was probably the most powerful moment of the evening.

I hope your favorites won and for those who didn't , it's fantastic to be in such rare and glamorous company just being nominated. Now, back to the publicity machine, I mean the sewing machine.....

It's Awards Night.....and they're off.

When I was about 10, there was a show on TV on Sunday mornings called, "Community Auditions". It was so abysmally stale, I was hooked on it like a follower of "High Society". The jingle was as rank as the acts:

"Star of the day who will it be? Your vote will hold the key! It's up to you, tell us who, will be Star of the day!"

I watched some little girl in a tutu on toes shoes complete with taps twirling a baton while doing an interpretive dance, en pointe, (while tap dancing) to "The Star Spangled Banner". Yes, it was that level of entertainment, but somehow, I still believe it informed my taste and eye for the career in which I would later shine. Well that show comes to mind when I think of tonight's equivalent of the Oscars for the Design stars of today, tomorrow and forever.

The awards for journalistic greatness to Kim Hastreiter of Paper Magazine (well earned and much deserved), Iman for Style Icon (why/what/so???) A Special Tribute to Alexander McQueen for his brilliance, otherworldly contributions and influence ( if someone refers to him as Lee, which was his first name only used by his closest friends, I'll choke), The Geoffrey Beene Lifetime Achievement Award to Michael Kors which seems a bit premature but not totally far fetched, and so on. Those "poke and stroke awards" are all a necessary ingredient to raise the level of entertainment and bring in the crowds and funds for the many charities that they support.

My interest is piqued by the Swarovski Awards for Womenswear and Accessories. Those categories are the "maiden races" for the young colts and fillies new to the track,though some are well past the age of 3 or 4 year olds. There's one in the race that's won on 5 separate occasions going all the way back to 1995: Tom Ford. It's like the fourth leg of the Triple Crown. Some of these ponies have as few as 1 leg and others as many as five, I'll leave that to your imaginations. The repetition of names from previous years for the same categories is always a source of amusement. It's a bit like musical chairs; random and predictable. Even those of us who were not math geeks can figure the odds if you know the tiniest thing about the criteria.
For the Swarovski Womenswear award there are 3 nominees, 2 of whom have dressed the
First Lady, one of those 2 most recently and the third is now carried by Mrs. Obama's (un)official stylist, Ikram Goldmun of Ikram boutique in Chicago. Prabal Gurung, a very talented man, specializing in evening wear, a past Assistant at Blass, whose collections have received greater and greater praise, successively, is in a prime position close to the rail to take this race. The only thing that might hamper his lead is that he's known for designing evening which has rarely won the day with the exception of Tuleh several years back. As beautiful as his clothes are, Joseph Altuzarra poses a formidable challenge for the simple reason that he is a brilliant young Sportswear designer which is consistently embraced by the voting body. His work is both original, technically precocious and extremely popular with the stylists and editors. I would have handicapped him to win until Prabal got the Obama Bump a few weeks back which increased his visibility and chances considerably. The "Obama Bump" is not for nothing. The other horse (a pony in my estimation) in this race is Jason Wu. We all know too well his story: "Obama Big-Assed Bump" with the less than inspired Inaugural gown, all sorts of inflated stories about the instant empire from that fateful gown and the collections that have come up lame ever since. Few people talk about his disqualification from the Parson's Stakes for unsportsmanlike behavior. When you add up these statistics, he becomes the dark horse (pony) in this race. I place my bet on Prabal Gurung. It would be fantastic to see someone who's not only talented, but who's put in the time to come to this race in shape, fast, graceful and fresh.

The Menswear of the Year nominees are a very interesting mix. There's Tom Ford who should skip these categories and just be given the Geoffrey Beene Lifetime Achievement award considering he's won in 5 categories dating back to '95,'01, '02, '04, and most recently for Menswear Designer of the Year in 2008. This becomes redundant, except that this time around his reputation not only precedes him, but he's got an Oscar nominated feature film to add to his list of achievements.That's one thing the competition failed to do. Michael Bastian follows the Ralph Lauren/Tommy Hilfiger formula in that he's a lapsed stylist who has created a business by "re-interpreting" classic style and selling it at absurdly high price points. They are familiar clothes, with a tiny twist that very few can afford....kind of an (un)common man's Thom Browne. Rag and Bone rounds out that race. They won in this category 3 years ago which may or may not help them. They are wildly popular, editorially and in the retailing world which could be a magic combination. My bet is, nevertheless, on Tom Ford. The glossiness of his coat, the way he instinctively knows where to position his head and haunch for the photographers is hard to discount or ignore. Let's face it, he could race in the opposite direction and still get to the finish line with time to spare for hair and makeup.

The Swarovski Accessory Award is the least interesting and possibly the most easily to predict. If you feel as though you've got the previous categories figured out , you might as well go for the Trifecta with this one. Eddie Borgo, Dana Lorenz and Alexander Wang make up the nominees. Eddie Borgo has collaborated with Marchesa (why haven't they been nominated, ever? Oh, I forgot they do STRICTLY Evening), Philip Lim and Joseph Altuzarra. His jewelry is very aggressive and interesting. Dana Lorenz does work that is both glorious in its use of precious stones and metals and inglorious in its more mundane elements. Then there's Alexander Wang. In accessories, Wang is best known for his Dream boot. If the stylists adore it and pull it repeatedly for all sorts of shoots and the editors and their magazines shoot that boot again and again, then I think the race is his to lose. Alexander Wang's trajectory has been atomic for the last few years with an award last year and countless lesser awards and honors over the past year or two. He's clearly a track favorite. It's no small feat that he's also nominated for Womenswear Designer of the Year along with Marc Jacobs and Donna Karan. This category is very hard to handicap. It could simply be a musical chairs race. If that's the case, I would bet on Marc. He's smart, fast, buff and if aerodynamics have any part in the time clock, he's got the least amount of hair to slow him down.

There are other races being run tonight which I'll re-cap when all is said and done. These entries are the ones that are the most anxiously awaited and hotly contested.In these races you can be a horse with an unimpeachable pedigree or have only one speed(fast) and little breeding. The outcome has as much to do with your ability to show and place, as it does the folks in the grand stands.

New Blass star to debut first collection

This is curious. Blass owner Scott Patti hired Jeffrey Monteiro to act as Creative Director for the company 1 1/2 years ago. That's right, a year and a half we've waited as he's sat on this egg anxiously awaiting it to hatch. The term Creative Director takes on a whole new meaning with this hire. Now, one is no longer obligated to create or even really do any substantive work. It's enough to wear the name tag and maybe show up at the office when you have a spare moment.

I can't imagine what this first collection, which is Cruise 2011, can possibly herald beyond the fact that it's also late. For probably the last 8 or 9 months I figured that Patti and his team of industry experts realized their mistake and quietly let Jeffrey go, almost as quietly as they announced his hiring. What else could explain taking 18 months to put together a cruise collection or any other collection for that matter? It takes on average about 3 to 4 months, tops, to do all the leg work and get a season on a rack, which is all they plan to do. The confidence meter seems to be registering very low on their expectations. The presentation will take place next week in the Blass showroom to a probably carefully vetted and culled audience. As a hopeless optimist, I hope it's a good collection for all of their sakes. It will fall immediately after the Fashion Awards which will take it out of contention as fodder for laughs during the ceremony.
That's probably one of the wiser moves on Scott Patti's part. But that still doesn't protect them from the harsh light of day. The pictures of looks from Monteiro's work for his eponymous collection that promptly died when the new gig was announced were so wanting and unbelievably tired, I still have night mares about them. This is a designer whose work is ideally suited for a junior dress house on Broadway, or at best something Missy. Remember those tired and banal categories from the bad old days. That's Jeffrey's oeuvre on a good day.
Perhaps you wonder why I'm so harsh? I don't like mediocrity and I like even less charlatanism. This dog that is about to be let loose on the public has little to offer beyond an annoying whine and just another pile of droppings that will have to be picked up(maybe) or stepped in by others.
The Fashion industry is suffering enough from a mixture of gout and overcrowding not to have to take on added dead weight that only tips the rubber raft dangerously close to the rising surface of the sea. Why not make wise decisions? What's to gain from another bloated collection that was still born until life support and a defibrillator were instituted as a part of its daily regimen? Why throw good money after middling talent? This movie was supposed to go to the big screen , not straight to DVD in the bargain bin at Lowe's.
Out of respect for you all, I will not illustrate this piece with pictures. How can you show the Emperor's old clothes, when they don't exist? Well on second thought , I am going to show images. You need to see why my feelings on this are so strong. Look and decide for yourselves. Any one of you or I am as qualified for the job as any.........

Best laid plans.......

Well this weekend is shaping up quite nicely. Everyone who was expected to come and stay have canceled. That's perfectly ok, only it means 5 uninterrupted days with my mate.....We have similar likes but very different rhythms, like so many people I know. He stays up late and I turn in early. I wake up early and he sleeps until noon. That all works well, except that when he's winding up is usually when I'm winding down. Finding activities we both enjoy can sometimes be a bit challenge, but we manage. We're both avid sportsmen and take great pleasure in competing against each other. The game we enjoy most is WII tennis. We've been known to play until we're sopping wet. He has a mean flick of the wrist where I'm more your follow through slugger. As a result, I've put many a nick in the wall behind me and once hit him square in the shoulder one week before that shoulder's Rotater Cuff surgery. I felt bad, especially when I lost the point.

Probably the most fun we have,besides jogging through tick infested woods, would be watching double and triple feature movies during and after dinner. We can easily fly through half a dozen in a long weekend and that's not including catching up with NYC and NJ Housewives, Nurse Jackie, Glee and the Tudors. I like the clothes and the big jewels, especially the tiaras!!! When things start to dull and we need a kick we go into town and watch the circus. It comes to town like clockwork every weekend. That is a story all its own. A little shopping at my favorite book store and filling the cart for yummy food I can no longer afford to eat due to my advanced age and slowing metabolism makes for a pretty complete weekend.

I wish all of you a great weekend with whomever you do or don't decide to hang out with. Rest, relaxation and fun are the orders of the day.....Fashion can wait.

Luxury Problems

Memorial Day is coming up which means Christmas is only a heartbeat away. We all have to act fast because Summer is just a seasonal name for pre-fall. So you see the problems, be they luxury or plain boring, have officially set in. Here's how I see some of them.

First of all money is scarce. Don't believe what you see on the streets. Just because this girl is in head to toe Calvin or Bottega, I can promise you she picked it up on any number of daily on-line shopping sites like Gilt, Rue La La or Haute Look.com. If she didn't get it there, she probably made the trip by ZipCar to Woodbury Commons and grabbed it from a Luxury discount Purveyor like Prada, MKors, Ralf, Oscar, Dior, you name it. I say more power to her and the same goes for guys who shop the very same sites and can be found at Woodbury having bought some cheap duffel bag on wheels which they cram with goodies from Varvatos to Converse, Prada, G-Star, Barneys, Boss, Brunello Cuccinelli, everything. Dress like a king though you're busting your butt to stay in the pauper class. These cases are by no means the exception, they're the rule. What's worse is to go to Uniqlo downtown and find that the Jil Sander collection, the one cool thing you MIGHT actually be able to afford, is stripped bare. That SUCKS.

How to navigate a city that no longer is yours? New York is now Europe, Asia, Middle and Far East-WEST. Have you noticed the proliferation of guide books and maps in the hands of most everyone you meet? They walk at a slow and distracted pace causing pedestrian pile-ups of epic proprtions. They ask all sorts of charming questions in even more charming accents like, "Excuse me, Can you tell me where The Notorious B-I-G was gunned down? We can't find it in our guide book?" This question, by the way, is came from 6 nuns wearing black Crocs and black fanny packs. I'm still wondering why they singled me out? In my neighborhood, Brooklyn Heights, the tourists are coming by land, bridge and sea. Between the hordes of Jehovah's Witnesses who refuse to say hello ( NOT a luxury problem) to the tired, the hungry, the Germans who have 2 questions: Where is the Brooklyn Bridge and Where is the Truman Capote house? That's an easy one for me, now that I've practiced: "The bridge is right there, that large structure spanning the water.....right above your head." And Truman's house is on the next block, the big yellow house with the For Sale sign that says $18 million. One morning as I rounded my corner where a gigantic structure stands as JW Central (Jehovah's Witness' Holiday Inn...."We'll leave the pamphlets out.....") I saw 2 women struggling with their guide book. I stopped and asked if I might help. Before asking me where to find this or that, they first asked if I was a JW. I said I wasn't and they in turn scowled as though I'd blasphemed. I assured them that it shouldn't be a deal breaker but they dismissed my feeble attempts to help. I think they feared I may sell them into White Slavery. Rent was coming due, so I'd be lying if I didn't give it a moment's consideration.

I walk across the Brooklyn Bridge for fun these days. It's so beautiful; the view, the bridge and all the tourists. There are some mighty fine looking specimens I must say. The people watching is amusing except for the obnoxious ones who refuse to obey the rules of the road. There is a pedestrian lane and a bike lane. 95% of the crowd respects the rules and one subset consistently doesn't. I won't single them out by ethnicity, but it is uncanny the consistency of these particular rule breakers. I have to laugh as they are side swiped by bell ringing cyclists whom they stubbornly ignore. I've watched many a swinging arm get clipped and then the curse and glare that follows, but they stay smack in the middle of the bike lane.

East Hampton where my boyfriend ( I don't like the term partner, I'm old school) and I have a crash pad is rife with Luxury problems. First there's the traffic to and from. Then there are the surly, self entitled crowds. Let's not forget the fact you can't go to the beach and park without shelling out a few hundred bucks for the summer. Forget casually showing up for dinner at most good restaurants like Nick and Toni's or Sen or Donna Karan's daughters new Italian joint in Sag Harbor without a reservation made weeks/months in advance. You have to know who to ask to get that reservation or make them for next summer and be put on a waiting list.

Peace and quiet is possible as long as you avoid the center of town. The only downside is that the woods are alive with the sound of dive bombing dog ticks and deer ticks ( the Lyme disease variety). Deer are everywhere. Bambi and his posse. They're very cute and jump high fences with the most spectacular form. They should be entered in the Hampton Classic and give shoe-ins like Kelly Klein, Mark Badgley and, now, Madonna a run for their ribbons. It just stinks when they leap with perfect form INTO your yard to feast on your plants, trees, flowers and yes, even shingles on the side of some houses that kill their charm. We discovered that peeing outdoors all around the property is not a deterrent. We did come up with an ingenious solution. I say solution but it's probably nothing more than a little night music. We found a CD of coyote, tigers and birds of prey that we play on the outdoor speakers at night, REALLY LOUD. Imagine the sounds of howling wild dogs, monkeys from the Amazon and every sort of weird haunting bird with backdrop sounds of a huge,rushing river just filling the air of the woods. It must freak them out. We get freaked out especially when we forget to turn it off and wake in the night to the sound of a hyena just beyond the bathroom door.

Well, this was longer than I intended and I didn't even get to the stores that line the streets. You would think you were in Vegas at Caesar's Forum of Shops. I thought what happens in Vegas , stays in Vegas. Not so for the towns that make up South and East Hampton. I'll save that circus for another day. Right now I have to decide what I'm going to pack for the weekend. Bathing suits are out because the pool sprung a leak and the pipes have to be replaced, so no swimming. We didn't get a beach pass so the beach is out. Probably some torn up jeans and beat sneakers for replanting in the garden after the deer decimated whole sections. Oh the hell of it all. When did Luxury become such a burden?

*Digital Art by Anton Bronner ( my BF)