Big Mama: The New Vogue
The September Vogue landed on my desk, or rather, on the floor. It came in a freight box. It’s very fat: 840 pages. Sienna Miller is on the cover of this super-duper issue, photographed by Mario Testino in Rome during the Valentino festivities. Though I can’t comprehend her appeal, apart from an American pixy-sportiness, she looks great in the clothes, mostly feathered things. My favorite fashion piece is Grace Coddington’s revisit with Kiki de Montparnasse and French café society in the ’20s and ’30s, photographed by Meisel. The clothes are right this season for a Jazz Age revue, especially Galliano’s and Chanel’s. (And perfect timing for “Making It New: The Art and Style of Sara and Gerald Murphy,” a great collection of essays and photographs of the period from University of California Press.)
Sarah Mower’s profile of the makeup artist Pat McGrath was informative and fun (“How do you accurately encompass a phenomenon as vast, protean, fast-moving, subtle and super-talented as Ms. Pat McGrath?”) And Carolyn Burke’s article about the friendship between Jacques Henri Lartigue and Richard Avedon was a surprise.
Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton (more Marc), Prada and Proenza Schouler get lots of credits, with some as well to Rodarte, Thakoon and, of course, Balenciaga. But a criticism of the book is a dearth of the offbeat and young. Where is Undercover, or Rick Owens, who had such a sophisticated fall collection, or the new London designers? Did I overlook Jil Sander? The looks shown in the issue convey a sense of authority and judgment, but the labels have a duty roster feel. Maybe the work of the other designers will be more represented in the next issue.
September Vogue is as much about the ads as the editorial. Gucci’s red lipstick and Veronica Lake hair, put with fur and gold chastity-size belt buckles, made me think of property rights. I liked Saint Laurent’s ads—more subtle and contemporary than last season, and with a slight nod (I felt) to the early YSL ads by David Seidner. Prada is all socks and bushy things. Calvin Klein’s ads really show you the clothes without being banal. Vera Wang’s snowy Russian campaign just raises a “Wha?” Brooks Brothers took out a 24-page portfolio that announced, on every page, that it was established in 1818. It’s about time Brooks recognized its prime mystery — I know that’s what its new owners have been working toward. I liked the fact that the ads sound authoritative. However, the models manage to look merely pompous, especially the guys (big problem), and inspire disbelief. They look more self-involved than glamorous and successful, and obviously have no real connection to the child in the pictures. Just bad casting. The portfolio also includes Thom Browne’s Black Fleece line for Brooks.