Isn’t it funny how a chance meeting with a random person can influence your life in such a dramatic way? Meet one of my guys. This here is Patrick Riley. He’s an American male model who had a huge amount of success in the mid 2000s, and decided to go for a trip to Sydney to work down there in 2006. After living in Bondi for a few months his visa expired, and he had to fly somewhere so he could re-enter Australia and renew it. His agency sent him to New Zealand. He was placed with 62 Models inClick to Continue!
I worked for Murray Crane at Little Brother for two years, from November 2002 till Christmas 2004, starting out in the since-closed Newmarket store, then over at the since-closed High Street store, and finally at the Little Brother & Friends outlet at number 428 Richmond Road. They were my formative years — I was at university, I’d just moved to the big city, I was in my first proper relationship, it was my first job in menswear, I was still a teenager, and that job was the pinnacle of success in my young eyes; I was getting paid $14 anClick to Continue!
You know when pretentious asses talk about the ‘Real New York’ and how much everything’s changed and how this city used to be so much grittier back in the day? Well they can shut up, because I had my first true OG New York experience on Sunday night, and it was not a good time. I was walking to my apartment from the bus stop, staring at my phone and minding my own business, when a gangsta guy came up to me, slapped my phone out of my hand and started screaming at me and calling me a faggot. He was 35-40Click to Continue!
Me in Paris during the menswear shows, January 2011. Photo: Katherine Lowe It’s always been my opinion that the thing that set my blog apart from the masses was that I started going to the menswear shows very early on in my career at my own expense. My first season there, I was one of four bloggers on the ground – the others were Tommy Ton, Scott Schuman and Yvan Rodic (moral of that story: it pays to be a photographer). It was a no-brainer: I’d just been fired from my magazine job, I was dying to travel and I’dClick to Continue!
Karl Lagerfeld, Lara Stone and Baptise Giabiconi backstage at Chanel Haute Couture, July 2009. Clothes fly in all directions. Hair and makeup artists rush to touch up and de-wig models as they sprint off the catwalk. A perfectly calm bride and groom stand chatting in a corner. I’m backstage at Chanel Haute Couture, the biggest show of the week, and it’s all happening. Pre show, 70 photographers stood crammed into a tiny velvet-roped area. I was in front of New Zealander Michael Ng holding a heavy bag filled with equipment. The photographers were getting antsy. Normally they rush into aClick to Continue!
I’m not a procrastinator, but I do have a habit of sitting back and waiting for whatever-I-hope-is-going-to-happen to happen. That’s fine when it’s something small like breakfast and you can count on your girlfriend to bring you a bagel on her way over to your house, but not so good when it’s something bigger like searching out, applying for and eventually being accepted into a new apartment. Welcome to my world. This past month, I’ve had a gotta-get-out-of-my-house deadline of January the 31st. My room was advertised on Craigslist and within a day of interviews it was filled. I wentClick to Continue!
I would love to say that I charmed Hooman Majd into a meeting with my witty prose and delightful email banter, but the truth is potentially more awesome. Potentially. Hooman Majd doesn’t turn down meeting requests. If time permits, he sees them all, and, myself excluded, he’s yet to encounter a crazy. We met for coffee the morning after the insomniac blog post was written. The man is in high demand (I had calls from a casting director friend the moment I posted his photo – she’d love him for a campaign she’s working on), yet I was the oneClick to Continue!
Hooman Majd – Photo: GQ Do you know what’s a strange proposition? Asking someone you’ve never met before – but whom you follow on the internet – if they’d like to meet IRL. I’ve been contacted out of the blue for hang-outs via this blog a bunch of times. Some of the people have become great friends, others mere acquaintances, and one was a particularly awkward incident in which an inexplicably aggressive little man demanded I sell myself to him between intermittent monologues about life as a hedge fund manager. Despite that train-wreck of a lunch (oh god I betClick to Continue!
Andrej Pejic backstage at Jean Paul Gaultier F/W 2011/12. Photo: Katherine Lowe You go up to Andrej Pejic in a club and tap him on the shoulder, he turns around and you’re all like: “Andrej! How’s it going man? Long time no see!” Blank stare. “It’s Isaac! Isaac from New Zealand!” Prolonged blank staring, coupled with disdainful wrinkling of nose. “You don’t remember me?” Head shake. “You know me! Isaac from New Zealand!” Hateful narrowing of the eyes. “My name is not Andrej,” he says. Only he is actually a she. No joke, this happened to me last night. DefinitelyClick to Continue!
Have you ever tried to explain how to attach a file to an email to somebody over the age of 50? Too easy. Try explaining the F*ck Yeah Menswear phenomenon to someone who has little to no interest in long conversations about the benefits of a softly tailored shoulder on your unlined sportcoat. Last night I dragged my endlessly supportive girlfriend to DUMBO to watch FYMW creators Lawrence Schlossman and Kevin Burrows geek out on a panel with A Continuous Lean‘s Michael Williams. “Explain to me,” she said as we sat down in our taxi. “How did they get aClick to Continue!