“you are not an artist, you are a shopkeeper”

You don’t like colour, Mademoiselle Chanel?” ”As long as it’s black.”

Charting the relationship between Coco Chanel and Igor Starvinsky, the imaginatively titled Coco and Igor (Jan Kounen, 2009) is a beautifully shot, glossy ode to style; Mademoiselle would certainly have approved of it’s polished aesthetic, if not the somewhat slow-moving (and possibly exaggerated) plot. Whilst the film opens with the notorious first night of the Ballet Russe production of Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring on 29 May 1913 in Paris, much of the ‘action’ takes place at Bel Respiro, Chanel’s home in Garches, where Stravinsky (Mads Mikkelson) stayed with his wife and children, at Chanel’s (Anna Mouglalis) request.

As expected, the costume designs are superb – discreet, considered, louche and incredibly elegant, but it is Bel Repriso, designed by Philippe Cord’homme, that dominates. It’s a sprawling country residence, a stylish Art Deco masterpiece, designed specifically to reflect Chanel’s modernist tastes, from the symmetrical monochrome panelling, to the striking fabrics, elegant swirling motifs, textured jacquard-covered chaise lounges and marble baths. Chanel’s bed is dominated by a geometric, cut-out metal headboard, her dinner plates are white with a contrast black trim.

Bel Repriso is simultaneously spartan and luxe, and perfectly in keeping with the simple, effortless practicality on which Chanel built her maison in Rue de Cambon. The décor is dominated by black and white, the strong linear symmetry evoking of Chanel’s unyielding independence, and her rigorous attention to detail, the gardens and surrounding grounds are immaculate, the effect of symmetry evidenced in the neat shrubbery and the perfectly raked gravel paths. For Chanel, appearance is everything.

Chanel’s tendency towards black and white is perfectly matched with the keys of Stravinsky’s piano, and within the notes of his sheet music. Aloof and unyielding, just like those dual colours, Chanel admits to feeling no regret at her affair with the composer, despite his family and frail wife. She is not callous, but alone, and sees herself as an equal to Starvinsky. His brutal comment: “You are not an artist, you are a shopkeeper”, prompts her to end their physical relationship, although she continues to support his work.

Katarina (Stravinsky’s wife, played by Elena Morozova) seems ill at ease in her new surrounds, her provincial, Orthodox life is little preparation for Chanel’s lifestyle. She drapes her familiar tapestries over the bed, hangs her traditional costumes in the wardrobe. Although Chanel professes an interest in Katarina’s style and even uses it as the inspiration for a new collection, her motives are questionable. Katarina’s status as an outsider is further emphasised in a dinner party scene with the Diaghilev company. All the attendant guests are wearing black and white – from Chanel’s flapper dress with contrast fringing to Stavinsky’s formal tuxedo. Only Katarina stands apart, in a plain red dress. In an earlier scene, she sits on the guest bed, clad in a peach two-piece suit with wide lace lapels, clutching her handbag in her lap. Her rigid posture highlight how uncomfortable she is in Chanel’s home. Katarina is devoted to her children and husband (transcribing his music with rigorous care), yet feels no envy towards Chanel, whose elegance and successd cannot overcome her amoral and undesirable tendencies.

Literary Salon: Coco Chanel by Justine Picardie

Perhaps a little late to the party with this review, but Justine Picardie’s elegant biography of Coco Chanel has lost none of its charm and remains one of the most authoritative tomes on this elusive subject. Chanel has been the subject of countless bios (some more accurate than others), several films and even a Broadway musical (Coco, starring Katharine Hepburn and directed by Michael Benthall, which was staged during the designers lifetime), yet she remains an intriguing and difficult to fathom character, aided by her desire to obscure and re-write her own history and origins.

Picardie’s eloquent and in-depth account of Chanel’s humble origins, analysis of her (myriad) love affairs and contextual fashion critique is well-informed and impeccably researched. Yes, Picardie is enamoured with her subject, but she acknowledges her foibles – from supposed anti-Semitism to Chanel’s links with British Intelligence during WWII – and offers balanced evidence, ultimately leaving the reader to form their own opinion.

Piecing together the jigsaw of Chanel’s life, Picardie journeys to Aubazine, the orphanage in which Chanel grew up. It was in this sparse and austere monastery that Chanel learnt her craft as a seamstress, finding recurrent motifs in star-inlaid stone floors and wrought iron-work. Although Chanel went to great pains to romanticise her childhood, she was never able to escape the influence of Aubazine. The chapter on Boy Capel, an area often neglected by biographers, is a modern-day love story that ends in tragedy.

Chanel and the Duke of Westminster at the races, 1924

Picardie’s journey ends (in the book at least) in an emotional stay in the private Ritz suite that Chanel made her home for the final years of her life. Perhaps more potently, Picardie visits Gabrielle Labrunie (Chanel’s great niece), where she tries on Mademoiselle’s tweed jackets, revelling in the very essence of Coco. The final chapter is charged with emotion and undeniably sad, depicting a hardworking and successful designer battling with loneliness and hindered, perhaps for the first time, by regret. Despite her faults, it’s impossible not to become attached to Chanel; Piacrdie clearly did, and this biography is richer for it.

Verdict: A literary shelf must have, equivalent to Chanel’s own 2.55

Coco Chanel: The Legend and the Life by Justine Picardie (Harper Collins 2010) is available at waterstones.com

‘Maraschino…..like the cherry’

Bringing a touch of 50’s movie-star glamour and sophistication to the Pink Ladies, Dinah Manoff as Marty Maraschino personifies 50’s styling. Unlike Frenchy, Jan and Sandy she favours slim fitting pencil skirts, cinched at the waist, tight pedal pushers and low cut tops that celebrate her curves. A neck-scarf, tied just-so, an elegant matchy-matchy clutch, oversized sunglasses and rolled hair complete the look. But Marty’s cultivated allure and apparent class is undermined by her lack of personality – when she does speak, it’s to say…well not a lot.

Marty is a prolific pen-pal, writing to a seemingly impossible list of men around the world (“I’m a terrific pen-pal, hopelessly devoted to each and every one’) and spraying her notepaper with perfume (using an atomiser, naturally)…but the audience is left to second-guess just exactly WHAT it is she writes in those letters. During Frenchy’s sleepover, Marty steals the limelight in a lemon satin baby-doll, and (her pride and joy) a pillar-box red silk kimono, complete with intricate embroidery. Throwing it on with practised panache, and, aware of her ‘look’, she accessories it with a fan – evoking jealousy and attention from the other Pink Ladies. It’s interesting to note that whilst Marty is much more aware of the power of clothes than her peers, is keen (and knows how) to use them attract attention – as a consequence she often appears older and more mature than her Rydell High classmates.

At the prom, Marty plays up to her perceived sex-pot image. Arriving with Rizzo and her date Leo (the T-Birds’ arch nemesis, and a calculated choice by Rizzo) she makes a beeline for Vince Fontaine. Clad in a bottle green cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline and a ruched bodice complete with an embellished clasp, Marty’s dressed to the nines. In contrast to the more youthful, almost girlish styles favoured by the other Pink Ladies (with the exception of Rizzo), Marty’s choice is sassy and seductive, her message? Vamp, not virgin. Her elegant up-do, pearl drop earrings, red nails and cigarette holder suggest she has dressed to impress – but her awkward conversation and dancing reveal her youth. Despite all her intentions, Marty’s prom seems to be a failure; Fontaine leaves her alone to perform his ‘prom duties’, with Marty (not a dancer if the evidence is to be believed!) playing second fiddle to Cha-Cha DiGregorio (‘the best dancer at St. Bernadette’s') and Danny Zuko.

It’s not until the final scene that Marty gets her look right – combining just the right amount of sweetness and sass. A yellow halterneck top that ties at the waist is paired with casual white pedal pushers and white high-heeled mules, and a yellow flower has been pushed into her hair. Her beau Sonny (played by Michael Tucci) is back by her side, as she abandons her grown-up ‘image’ and enjoys her final hours at high school. There’s certainly a lot to be learnt at Rydell if her, Sandy and Frency’s sartorial makeovers are to believed.

‘here’s looking at you, kid’

Citing Casablanca as a top-five fave always feels like a cop-out cliché of the ilk that the film is filled. It’s easy to be cynical about Casablanca, that romantic 1942 classic with more quotable one-liners than its possible to recall – but it’s enduring and endearing plot, perfectly formed characters and uplifting ideals are still capturing audience imagination. In fact, this year, the film celebrates its 70^th anniversary this year.

The longevity of Casablanca (produced in the decade that pushed the ‘film a week’ mantra) owes a nod to timing (apparently a version of the script arrived at the Warner Brothers Studio the day after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, December 8, 1941), but also confirms that quality can transcend time, politics and place, and that a honed dialogue, a tight plot and real characters will always triumph over showy theatrics and shallow special effects. Humphrey Bogart is pitch perfect as Rick Blaine, the eternal cynic predisposed towards democratic idealism and justice. The inimitable Bogey, cast alongside Ingrid Bergman as Isla Lund, was on his way to becoming typecast as a gangster, but Casablanca allowed Bogart to break the mould. Aloof and jaded, Rick remains something of an enigma throughout the film, and despite his final, heroic act, the audience never discovers why he can’t return to America.

The ever-stylish Bogart lent Blaine an elegant and nonchalant flair, his iconic, sartorial relevance confirmed thanks to two well-chosen costumes. First up, the white dinner jacket. A classic, double breasted design, classically styled with a dress shirt, a neatly folded pocket square, a black bow-tie, worn just-so, and some slim-fitting black trousers. This is Rick’s work uniform, although one that he wears with ease and panache; leaning over Sam’s piano, or to play a game of chess. Emphasising Rick’s aloof traits, whilst reinforcing his authority, the white dinner jacket acts as an understated blank canvas, a neutral uniform that reiterates Rick’s (initial) refusal to assign political allegiance. Although white is not a conventional jacket choice, the shade is the perfect complement to the bustle of Casablanca and the cool interior of Ricks…and is an excellent motif to heighten the dramatic film noir aesthetic.

The final scene of Casablanca, an atmospheric and foggy airport sequence has become one of the most iconic images in film history, and it’s been suggested that Bogart’s character sparked an onslaught on trench coat sales. Rick Blaine wears his classic but functional trench (complete with wide lapels, a rain shield, gun flaps and D-rings) his own way, with his collar up, his fedora pulled down low over his eyes, and an unfiltered cigarette never too far away. Whilst the trench coat has a long-standing military tradition (with both Burberry and Aquascutum laying claim to providence), Rick’s twist is casual yet retains authority – he is in control of events and his own destiny.

The decision to style Rick in a trench reiterated the political backdrop of the WWII and Bogart’s trench coat has become a much-referenced fashion statement. The studio bosses canny decision to focus the film’s marketing around the trench coat wearing Bogart allowed his version of masculinity to become deeply entrenched in the intertwined film and fashion history narrative. After all, no one could wear a trench better than Bogey.

Suggested further reading:

The Telegraph: Casablanca turns 70: Q&A with Humphrey Bogart’s son Stephen 

Howard Koch: Casablanca, Script and Legend 

Snapshot into Sherlock

A continual onslaught of glossy and big-budget Hollywood blockbusters ensures that the ‘craft’ aspect of film is all-to-often overlooked – unless the costumes are designed by a fashion-week-worthy label (Rodarte, anyone?) Film-goers are presented with a finished product that’s been polished until it shines but the behind-the-scenes processes are almost as fascinating – and a new exhibition from BAFTA-winning production designer Sarah Greenwood is the perfect opportunity to get down-and-dirty with Sherlock Holmes, one of last year’s most successful big-screen franchises.

A Snapshot allows the casual film-lover to get witness the workings of the Sherlock Holmes 2 art department through an exact replica of Greenwood’s workspace, revealing her research material, scripts, notebooks, laptop, drawings, models, illustrations and storyboards from the film. Folders upon folders of visual research offer insight into the creative process, illustrating the epic complexity that goes into the creation of a successful and unique visual identity and charts the creative process through from concept to final cut.

Holmes is set at cusp of the modern age, and the film communicates a clash of old and new. The ever-eccentric Sherlock is a man unafraid of innovative design, and his eclectic travels and enquiring mind are referenced in the chaotic, complex and crammed interior of 221b Baker Street. A quick glance through the research folders reveals everything from dance halls to the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty to narrow Parisian streets, dance halls and gypsy travellers. These photocopied and printed images compete for attention with Degas prints and technical drawings…it’s astonishing that this confusion can give rise to a clear visual concept. As Greenwood herself observes, ‘When it succeeds the art that is produced can be breathtaking and that can only be seen in the final film’.

A Snapshot: Behind the Scenes of Sarah Greenwood’s Sherlock Holmes is at The Arts Gallery, 272 High Holborn, WC1V 7EY until 9 March 2012.

‘I had a little trouble in tinting class…’

Grease’s Frenchy (played by Didi Conn) is an unexpected addition to the Pink Lady clan – thanks in part to her ever changing hair colour and her almost-ridiculous breathy voice. She doesn’t conform to the expected high-school rules, dropping out of Rydell High to attend beauty school, whilst at graduation; her on/off beau poses with a dog, leaving her alone on the sidelines. If Sandy can get her man, why can’t she?

It’s not immediately apparent what Frenchy offers to the Pink Ladies (it’s not sass or seduction, Rizzo and Marty have those covered) but (repeated) viewings reveal that she’s a clever plot-driver device – introducing Sandy to the Pink Ladies and then to Danny, and is instrumental in Sandy’s make-over for the closing scene. Frenchy is outlandish, a ditsy dreamer, fun and open hearted with a penchant for girly gossip – and comes with ever-changing hair colours, what more could you ask for from a character?

Costume designer Albert Wolsky opted for a sorbet-hued palette for Frenchy – classic Fifties shades that are sweet but not saccharine. In the 1950’s Frenchy wouldn’t have been the coolest girl in class, but she must have been the most fun…and today, her hair eccentric attire and that pink hair doesn’t look so out of place.

She’s the first Pink Lady seen in Grease, clashing her satin pink bomber with a pastel midi-length pencil skirt, a check shirt, a waist-cinching tan belt and a peach silk neck-scarf, tied to the side – so far, so 50’s. She marks herself out from the other students with her orange dyed hair and an array of hair-slides – a coquettish mix of girlish charm and knowing ingénue (well how else did she get that nickname?).  Her transition from Rydell to Beauty School isn’t as smooth as she envisaged – and the resultant bubblegum pink hair (‘You look just like an Easter egg’) highlights her internal struggle between her career choice (not a fave with feminist critics) and the pressure to ‘go back to high school’, helpfully demonstrated by Frankie Avalon.

At the dance-off, she’s ‘a beautiful blonde pineapple’, resplendent in a full-skirted lemon yellow prom dress, worn with heeled lemon T-bar shoes, white gloves – this femininity with a distinct Frenchy twist. Her hair, newly blonde it’s piled on top of her head in a messy up-do. Of course, Frenchy puts her own spin on prom dressing – accessorising her look with a silver clutch bag, a corsage hairpiece, ribbons and ruffles. In the closing scene (where her hair was actually meant to be green…) Frenchy is back to ‘50’s kitsch, clad in a lilac and cream polka dot sundress with pretty puff sleeves and a white waist belt – a classic 50’s look. There’s a garland round her neck and a comb stuck in her belt, as Frenchy embraces her quirky characteristics and looks to a future without Rydell.

Beautiful Ballgowns at the V&A

 

Alexander McQueen SS12

If you’re partial to a little old-school glamour (and Miss V certainly is) the V&A has the perfect exhibition up their sleeve…or skirt? Ballgowns – British Glamour Since 1950 will open the V&A’s recently renovated Fashion Galleries this May, and will feature a collection of beautiful ballgowns, red carpet evening dresses and catwalk showstoppers from over 60 designers across two floors. There’s a focus on British design both past and present (think Catherine Walker, Jonathan Saunders and Hussein Chalayan), and a special bespoke design from the ever-innovative Gareth Pugh. Of course, it’s unlikely that the occasion to wear such elaborate attire will present itself in the near future, but sartorial dreaming is very much encouraged…and in the meantime, ponder the gallery of glorious catwalk ‘ballgown creations’ and start thinking BIG.

Ballgowns – British Glamour Since 1950 runs at the V&A from 19 May 2012 – 6 January 2013

images via vam.ac.uk

Evening gown by Worth London