Anticipation for the RCA MA Show 10.

Spent. Having been out every night since my arrival on Thursday night, London's been proffering a grand ol' time of boogie and booze-y this bank holiday weekend (thanks to new venue in Finsbury Park, The Silver Bullet, as well as generous friends of friends and family). But now it's time to assume a role that bit less debauched and return to some long-awaited fashion-appreciation.

During last Friday's jet-lagged haze I was delighted to find on our doorstep an invite to the RCA MA fashion show (courtesy of the dapper Dan of LSoD) which takes place Thursday June 10th. As ever, with alumni like Katie Eary and Aitor Throup, this esteemed fashion foundation is a key source of innovators within the fashion industry both in London-centric and international terms. The ever-reliable online fash resource, F-Tape, has provided those eagerly anticipating the grads' collections with a preview of all their creations crafted of hard graft and unrelenting vision. Instant faves include Courtney McWilliams, Robert Huth, Tomislav Mostecak, Jess Smith, and Hanna Ter Meulen...

Here's to houndstooth.

More later in the week.

Image from Hanna Ter Meulen

FxF: The 20s and 30s Onscreen.

Tomorrow, I'm upping sticks and moving to London. While kipping on the sista's couch for the duration of menswear during LFW had its advantages, it's time I made the former junk room, now bedroom, my Summer 2010 abode. Although I've pretty much pined for the city's abundance of fashion-related places and people, nearing the move it's actually all things fashion-and-film I'm stoked for.

Some of you may remember the 2nd Fashion in Film Festival, entitled If Looks Could Kill, which brought together the simultaneously disparate and surprisingly interconnected realms of cinema, clothing, crime and violence. Naturally, when I heard a bunch of hardened cinephiles and fashion aficionados were banding together to combine my two first loves, it was just a little bit heartbreaking to hear I wasn't going to get to see it. Luckily, the FFF will return in December 2010 to once again unite the two arts. Fingers crossed for a good theme. Am personally favouring something along the lines of the hammy get-ups of Hammer Horror/all the silk shifts and suave suiting of Wong Kar Wai/50s and 60s-era sci-fi Barbarella-esque trash...



Dracula Has Risen From the Grave (1968)



In the Mood for Love (2000)



Barbarella (1968)

Anyway, while browsing through the FFF site I stumbled upon Screen Search Fashion, which is basically a collab. between the RCA and Screen Archive South East that deals with 1920s and '30s fashion on film. Put simply, it offers an array of clips from silent films which feature, variously, a moustached man sporting suspenders for his socks (am, worryingly, beginning to think this a smart sartorial choice...), a raglan-sleeved single-breasted overcoat that could give any trenchcoat a run for its money in terms of film noir effect, and sailor rig-outs circa 1935. 'Nuff said, really.



Football gear from 1936/1937

Images from SASE, Lidous, ScifiWire, and Daily Mail

Summer, S***R, and my-wardrobe.com.

A host of essays, crammed-for exams, bottles of cheap Tesco wine and hungover mornings later, it's good to be back. My fingers may be nigh on decrepit following answer-scrawling but blogging provides a welcome antidote to bluffing through psychoanalysis and cinema and the subsequent bottle of gin. But reckon it's time to hush lest you think this post was exclusively dedicated to academic woes and alcoholic inclinations...

Just prior to that brief hiatus my-wardrobe.com approached me with rather the interesting opportunity which has resulted in, finally, a pair of hi-tops I can, without hesitation, say I love. My fondness for S***R footwear is no secret ever since I first spotted their collab. with River Island way back when so, naturally, a slick black suede and leather pair of Gene 3 hi-tops was the obvious answer to my retail dilemma. Although I embraced the arrival of hi-tops when Lucas proffered them at Lanvin a few years ago, I've never managed to locate a pair on the high-street that wasn't, A) every colour under the acid-tripping rainbow, or B) akin to a prop from Tron.

As for the my-wardrobe.com experience itself, I couldn't really demand much more. Being the delivery dunce that I am, it slipped my mind that someone would need be present in the flat for collection. I requested that DHL keep the shoes in storage 'til I somehow hauled my arse off the couch. But no need, the my-wardrobe.com team insisted they have DHL make another delivery attempt and solve all my woes at once. Win.