The Curiosity Chronicles

And On Sundays We Rest.

Curious Inspiration. All of a sudden, the whole world seems to have discovered the genius of artist Domenico Gnoli. New York’s Luxembourg & Dayan Gallery recently mounted the first U.S. show devoted to Gnoli since his death four decades ago. In 1969, after a successful solo show at the trail-blazing Sidney Janis gallery in New York, the beautiful, bohemian dandy with an abundance of talent—he was also a leading illustrator and stage designer early in his career—was poised to become a major art star. But his career was cut tragically short, when he died a few months later of cancer, at only 36.

Gallerist Amalia Dayan says of him: “He was stylish in a dandyish, bohemian way. He was very, very handsome—and apparently, a huge womanizer. He didn’t have a huge amount of money, but he drove eccentric sports cars and had a little sailboat. When he died at 36, he’d already been married twice—the first time to an Italian model for a few years, and then to Yannick. They ran in a tight circle of gorgeous friends. It was a glamorous group.”

Gnoli’s stylish canvases take secondary details—the collar of a man’s shirt, the wave in a woman’s hair—and blow them up into the primary subject with remarkable attention to pattern, texture and detail. Enjoy.

Curious About…Dictator Chic.

Curious about…Personal Uniforms.

A friend posted the photo above on her Facebook wall a couple of days ago in response to Steve Jobs’ death: I thought it was a lovely way to commemorate someone, illustrating the iconic clothes they wore. Jobs was of course famous for his uniform - the Miyake turtlenecks, the mid-fade Levis and the New Balance sneakers, and wore it every day, religiously. Got me thinking about the power of personal iconography, of the potential liberation of uniformity and the idea of how it might feel to construct an external identity that was about doing the same thing repetitively rather than changing every day.

Wikipedia talks about uniforms thus: ”Workers sometimes wear uniforms or corporate clothing of one nature or another. Workers required to wear a uniform include retailer workers, bank and post office workers, public security and health care workers, blue collar employees, personal trainers in health clubs, instructors in summer camps, lifeguards, janitors, public transit employees, towing and truck drivers, airline employees and holiday operators, and bar, restaurant and hotel employees. The use of uniforms by these organizations is often an effort in branding and developing a standard corporate image but also has important effects on the employees required to wear the uniform. However the term ‘uniform’ is misleading because employees are not always fully uniform in appearance and may not always wear attire provided by the organization, while still representing the organization in their attire. Academic work on organizational dress by Rafaeli & Pratt (1993) referred to homogeneity of dress as one dimension, and conspicuousness as a second. Employees all wearing black, for example, may appear conspicuous and thus represent the organization even though their attire is uniform only in the color of their appearance not in its features. They described struggles between employees and management about organizational dress as struggles about deeper meanings and identities that dress represents, describing dress as one of the larger set of symbols and artifacts in organizations which coalesce into a communication grammar.”

At the other end of the fashion spectrum we have North Korean leader King Jong Il’s safari-suit chic, lampooned worldwide (it is rumored to be one of the most popular Halloween costumes in recent years) and worn by him (and his impersonators) on a daily basis. Somewhere between a military uniform with its khaki, beige and grey palette (and yet unadorned with the usual pseudo-military insignia) and at the same time, definitely built for ease of wear and comfort as His Dearest Leader ages, it is not for everyone, but it is, to quote fashion journalist vernacular, his “signature look.” He is reputed to have hundreds of them in various sizes to allow for weight fluctuations, and in multiple fabric weights and textures - cotton for inside, practical polyester for visiting villages, wool and cashmere for winter. There is an unconfirmed rumour that the recent elastication is to allow for bullet-proof layers to be more easily worn underneath, as tensions rise with other nations. 

Ironically, many fashion designers rely on uniforms for their own personal wear - Coco Chanel lived in her traditional Breton stripes, Halston only wore a black cashmere turtleneck and suede jeans year-round, Michael Kors only wears black T-shirts and jackets, the list goes on; presumably their way of keeping some form of personal sanctuary (and sanity) in a sea of their own designed ever-changing clothing.

 

What Of It? I love fashion and invest in it like a champ but have to admit I am slightly curious about the notion of wearing the same thing every day and seeing if things change. Lots of articles in the fashion press talk about having a “signature look,” but to me this takes that to the extreme - I think I wear things that suit me but I like the variations on colour, texture and proportion - I wonder if by wearing the exact same thing every day one has to allow one’s personality to exhibit different colours, textures and proportions instead?

I am Curious about uniformity and its potential to liberate other aspects of ourselves, about the space where signature ends and uniform begins, about the notion of creating personal brands, with their accompanying iconography and meaning.

Curious about…Crocs.

Following on from a post I made a few months ago about traditional Dutch Klompen (Clogs) I thought it might be time to revisit them in the modern context. Arriving yesterday in San Francisco, at best a city known for its practicality when it comes to fashion, I was taken by the number of people wearing the modern interpretation of the clog, the Croc, and was interested to see how these fascinating (and deeply polarizing) shoes came to be so popular.

Crocs, Inc. is a shoe manufacturer founded by 3 friends - Scott Seamans, Lyndon “Duke” Hanson, and George Boedecker, Jr. -  to produce and distribute a foam clog design acquired from a Quebec company called Foam Creations. The shoe had originally been developed as a spa shoe. The first model produced by Crocs, the Beach, was unveiled in 2002 at the Ft. Lauderdale Boat Show in Florida, and sold out the 200 pairs produced at that time.

Made from a proprietary foam resin called Croslite, the foam forms itself to a wearer’s feet and offers purported medical benefits, according to a number of podiatrists.

Opinions are extremely polarized about Crocs shoes; many regard them as comfortable and colorfully decorated, others see them as a fashion disaster and a vibrant subculture has emerged of vocal opponents of the shoes. A Washington Post article described the phenomenon: ”Nor is the fashion world enamored of Crocs. Though their maker touts their ‘ultra-hip Italian styling,’ lots of folks find them hideous.” Tim Gunn, fashion consultant, told Time Magazine, ”…the Croc - it looks like a plastic hoof. How can you take that seriously?”  A blog named “I Hate Crocs dot com” follows opposition to the original “luridly coloured Swiss cheese clog-footwear”. The Facebook group “I Don’t Care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like a Dumbass”, dedicated to eliminating the shoes, has over 1.4 million “likers” as of July 2010.

The shoes have been targets of satire: on Real Time with Bill Maher, Maher called for a “New rule: stop wearing plastic shoes,” over a photo of Crocs, and The Daily Show ”Senior Public Restroom Correspondent” Rob Corddry, following up on the Senator Larry Craig June 2007 lewd conduct arrest, “reported” that anyone wearing Crocs is signalling “anything goes.”

But of course Crocs have the last laugh. At their 10th anniversary sales meeting earlier this year, brand guru Scott Bedbury said: “Crocs is well poised to take its brand to the next level. The next year will be a time of opportunity and expansion if it can further diversify product collections and strengthen its marketing efforts around the world.  The brand has achieved world-wide recognition in a short time and with Crocs innovative style and business approach – they are evolving into a true lifestyle brand.  ”

What Of It? I’m not a huge Crocs fan myself, but I have to admit, these things are a powerful force to be reckoned with. Just as the Dutch championed a solid, wooden shoe for toiling away in the farms and factories, today’s modern workers clearly need their solid modern rubber klompen to toil away in their farmers markets and supermarkets. Worn by everyone from chefs to nurses, dads to directors, Crocs are the Volkswagon Beetle of shoes - quirky, iconic, fun, not for everyone, but very much a statement, however you choose to interpret it.

I Am Curious about modern riffs on traditional dress, rituals and foods, about the notions of practicality and emotion and how they overlap, about fashion and anti-fashion, how one man’s Prada is another’s Croc.

Curious about…Essentialism.

“Elegance is refusal.” Gabrielle Chanel

Inspired by being in Paris, a less-is-more post today.

Curious about… Clò Mór.

As the product of a Scottish mother and a military father, Tweed is something that I grew up with, its rough texture being something I associate with home somehow. Being referred to as “Tweedy” is a British colloquialism that I have always loved, conjuring up images of corgis, misty Highland moors and the smell of woodsmoke.

Harris Tweed (Clò Mór in Gaelic) is a luxury cloth that has been handwoven by the islanders on the Isles of Harris, Lewis, Uist and Barra in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland, using local wool.

Tweed is a rough, unfinished woollen fabric with a soft, open, flexible texture, made in either plain or twill weave; it may have either a check or herringbone pattern. Subdued, interesting colour effects (heather mixtures) are obtained by twisting together differently coloured woolen strands into a two- or three-ply yarn.

Tweeds are desirable for informal outerwear, being moisture-resistant and durable. Once worn in, tweeds are commonly worn for outdoor activities such as shooting and hunting, in both Ireland and the United Kingdom. “Lovat” is the name given to the green used in traditional Scottish tweed.

In the past few years Harris Tweed has had something of a hipster renaissance: one high profile success was their use on several Nike running shoe designs including the Terminator, Blazer, and Air Force 1. Designers such as Alexander McQueen, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren and Steven Alan have championed the fabric, and tweed fanatic Vivienne Westwood has used the fabric for years.

And last but not least we have The Tweed Run. The Tweed Run is a group bicycle ride through the centre of London, in which the cyclists are expected to dress in traditional British cycling attire, particularly Tweed plus-four suits. Any bicycle is acceptable on the Tweed Run, but classic vintage bicycles are encouraged. Positioning itself as “A Metropolitan Bicycle Ride With a Bit of Style,” it attracts London’s newly-minted hipster dandy community in droves. 

What Of It? My favorite and most indelible impression of design in the UK is that there is always an interplay between the traditional and the modern, and the Tweed industry has both adapted to and embraced that, not allowing itself to become stale and old-fashioned, instead staying true to itself and shifting context with the times. Too often the word ‘authentic’ is bandied about with respect to a category, but Tweed is very much that.

I am Curious about things that adapt and grow over time, staying true to themselves and yet shifting context, about classic crafts, techniques and materials that get repurposed and redesigned, about modernized traditions.