The Alaïa PR lied and didn't... issue corrections ?!
Who is Junko Shimada? Who is Adolfo Faustino?
I saw a lot of fashion people in Paris this week posting what they think are shopping deep cuts, but are actually overpriced places everyone already knows about (Thanx God I’m a V.I.P., Pretty Box). Creative director Katharina Korbjuhn—who is currently working on a visual overhaul of Haus Labs by Lady Gaga—stood out with a post about Japanese clothing designer Junko Shimada, 82, who as it happens, designs clothes for Lady Gaga. (That’s Junko’s 3rd listed occupation on Wikipedia anyway.) Kat says, “It’s hard to explain but there is a level of intelligence in her pieces that I can’t seem to find anywhere. Absolutely no one I know shops here. It’s a thing of chic that only the few get to.”
Check out Junko’s website and instagram.
I think her secondhand options are worth looking at, especially on Vestaire Collective.
Who is Adolfo Faustino ?
American-Cuban designer Adolfo Faustino got his start as a hat maker (you can actually buy one of his hats on Facebook, which makes perfect sense), and his clothes were meant to “complement” the fabulous millinery. His pieces have the rizz that I associate with Giorgio di Sant’Angelo, and the other stars of the 1960s. Adolfo “established his customer base with people like the Duchess of Windsor, Betsey Bloomingdale, Babe Paley, Nancy Reagan and C.Z. Guest.” (C.Z. came to Adolfo when Mainbocher retired…You can read about Mainbocher in this piece by Laird Borelli-Persson in Vogue, and a couture robe of his design is available for purchase.)
Adolfo famously made a lot of the hats for the guests at Truman Capote’s Black and White Ball. Adolfo said: “The orders for masks came in weeks before the ball. Oh, we did many, many—for Drue Heinz, Adele Astaire, Merle Oberon, Amanda Burden, Betsy Bloomingdale. Hers I remember best—a very delicate one, in the shape of a butterfly and held up on a stick. A mask that fits the face disturbs the makeup, so they all had little sticks to hold, sometimes in the middle, sometimes on the side. I was invited to the ball, but I don’t do very well at such things. So, Truman came in later and told me all about it.” (Drue Heinz has an important place in literary history: She was the publisher of The Paris Review until 2007, and the co-founder of Ecco Press; her husband, obviously, was the president of the ketchup brand.)
24-minute documentary about Adolfo here.
WWD has one of the most abusive archive paywalls in the magazine industry, $74.58/month ($894.99/year), but if you are a subscriber, you can read an interview Adolfo gave in 2014. The cost is especially upsetting, because I personally believe the WWD archives are more important than… Vogue. (And yet, I refuse to subscribe, even on my business credit card.) If someone does subscribe, can you send it to me?
Giorgio di Sant’Angelo and the Gypset
Adolfo feels underground to me (I don’t have a peer who owns his work), but Giorgio di Sant’Angelo, of the same era/ilk, still has a presence. My friend Susie—oft mentioned on the blog—lent me a wonderful silk dress of his for a wedding in England last summer.
Giorgio sort of pioneered Gypset style, a.k.a. rich hippies on vacation. (You’ll almost always find him name checked after Halston.) He sometimes took this too far, and painted his models with Indian warpaint. It’s reminiscent of what we now call Boho (a much diluted style, come to think of it). Diana Vreeland pushed Giorgio di Sant’Angelo during her tenure at Vogue. This jazzy dress of his at the Met KILLS ME.
If you want a “cheap” piece of fashion history for yourself, this is great for a tea party or this garden party number.
I guess this is controversial (?), but I'm just not a fan of Assouline typography (not sure HOW they got so popular with their ugly covers) or even the work they produce, but they did put out a bookset on the Gypset phenom. Good idea, but I think, from the few photos online, poorly executed. Annoying! I want them to be Great. And I think they have the money to do that. (The next gen is, perhaps, plagued by that rancid combo of Nepo baby snobbery & idiocy—can’t find their own talent, only running with rich kids, squeezing every last penny out of the existing formula—that so often leads to stale products. It’s something I see all the time, mostly in the offspring of major NYC gallerists.)
