Look at my shoes. Look at my shoes. Oi, you in the Aries top, what’s your problemo son? Look at my fucking shoes. I’m walking around East London and no one is looking at my shoes.
On my last visit to Dover Street Market I saw a Sacai shirt. It was white, with off-white bits and it made my heart stop. It’s a complex experience looking at clothes you definitely can’t afford. On the one hand you have to act like… Read More
Rationally, I know life isn’t a lookbook. I understand when I buy into Comme‘s enigmatic philosophy, or the caramel minimalism at Studio Nicholson, it’s not going to radically alter my day-to-day. But I can’t help being disappointed when it doesn’t. I’m a romantic (read sucker)… Read More
I frequently post about Sacai, the Tokyo imprint founded by ex-Junya Watanabe and Comme des Garçons staffer Chitose Abe. Although I sometimes feel it’s an exercise in futility. Both for me and anyone reading this. The twisted beauty of the collections is not in question;… Read More
Anxiety. Screen fatigue. No sleep. Complicated jackets. White Rats III by Broken English Club — metallic banging and despair. Lukewarm Nescafé and cigarettes. It’s almost time for work again.
A thing of terrifying beauty. A diptych of delicious nightmares from the brush of Hieronymus Bosch? John Carpenter’s The Thing, startled mid-assimilation? But which is the monster, the cotton or the nylon? Japanese brand Sacai produce these scandalous hybrids season after season. Brutal conjoinings between… Read More