Hey, gidday mates! Since the last update… I went home to New Zealand then came back to NYC and got the same seasonal depression I always get whenever January rolls around in the city; I made a ton of money in one day on cryptocurrencies then lost all of it and more by being greedy; NYFW came and went, I deejayed a few parties and helped out my friend Wladimir behind the scenes for Milly and Esteban Cortezar; and I got crazy obsessed with Prada and started buying up large on MATCHESFASHION.COM. Oh and I also got sent this email with the download links for every single Oscar movie and I’ve been watching a lot of good films like Three Billboards and I, Tonya and Molly’s Game. Frances McDormand for President!Click to Continue!
Hey, gidday mates! I’m in New Zealand right now, but I shot these photos on my last day in New York with my mate Mike Vitelli. This is how I’ve been dressing most days for the past few weeks: Some jacket; white tee; black jeans (which I bought raw and then wore every day for a couple of years till they were destroyed and hole-ly and then took them back to the shop and had them repaired and now they’re the best things I’ve ever owned); and these black Rick Owens combat boots from MATCHESFASHION.COM. I’ve never owned anything by Rick Owens before but now I understand why his devotees are so obsessive about his product. It really is on a whole other level. Nek minnit…Click to Continue!
Clockwise from left: Rick Owens, Louis Vuitton, Dries Van Noten. If Milan is the capital of menswear, Paris is the home of men’s fashion. So it would figure that after a remarkably progressive show from Raf Simons one night, we’d wake up the next morning and head to an equally forward-thinking designer’s presentation. Hello, Rick Owens. (By the way, he was in the audience at Raf’s show.) Like usual, the Rick show was held at Bercy, an enormous grass-covered concert/sports center opened in the early ’80s, and, like usual, we walked into near pitch blackness, with a dull spotlight sweepingClick to Continue!
Rick Owens backstage at his Spring 2009 menswear show. Photo: Steve Wood A few weeks ago, my good friend (and expat Kiwi) Nabil Azadi conducted a lengthy and insightful interview with Rick Owens for SlamXHype, in which the pair discussed everything from Raf Simons’ money troubles to babies, Gummo to mothers. Just before mentioning that his father, who still calls him Richard, was thoroughly unimpressed with the full-sized wax nude depicting himself urinating in his Paris store, the designer dropped hints that he would soon be introducing his first perfume to the market: “Nabil Azadi: Time for a fragrance.Rick Owens:Click to Continue!
Rick Owens catwalk photos: wwd After the Invercargill-esque summer we were treated to in Milan, it’s nice to have arrived in Paris where the sun is shining, the temperature high and the hospitality a familiar combination of unhelpful and rude. To kick things off, it was a short train ride over to Bercy Stadium where Rick Owens was presenting his spring collection. Outside, ghostly fashionistas withered beneath the UV rays, but inside, darkness prevailed – low lighting, rows of black seats, and a predominance of moody, avant-garde dressers. I was seated with Zambesi Man’s Dayne Johnston and other buyers andClick to Continue!