Happy Birthday, Flowerbomb!

Secretly (or maybe not so secretly) I'm a nerdy old granny. I enjoy grocery shopping, large jumpers and slippers, love a potter around a stately home, have an intense relationship with tea and would love to take a Japanese flower arranging course. Which is why, when Victor & Rolf took myself and some fellow bloggers and writers on to do a flower arranging morning (not Japanese specifically but still pretty damn cool) to celebrate ten years of Flowerbomb, I was beyond giddy.

I mean, walking into a room filled with flowers may be a normal occurrence for a lucky few but it was rather a treat for me. And, while pink has never really been my colour, I was nearly utterly overwhelmed by all that pretty! Pastel overload, much?

Hosted by Brown Thomas, who exclusively stocked Flowerbomb in Ireland from its launch in 2005 and for many years afterwards, and lead by the wonderful people of The Flower Factory, Rathmines, it was majorly informative and fun. Plus, rarely has my house smelled quite this good.

Flowerbomb was launched by lifelong bestos and couturiers Victor & Rolf during their A/W 2005 couture show. As each show by the house is a performance, they came up with the idea of intertwining the launch with the theatrics of their clothes. Their mantra is to escape reality by creating dreams and a vision of Utopia, always while maintaining a sense of humour. Flowerbomb was their antidote to reality, a quest to transform anything into beauty and positivity, taking the image of a bomb and making it something pretty and refreshing. The bottle evokes a bomb but also glitters like a pink diamond, something rare and special. With the scent itself, they wanted to do something a little unique. It is an "edible" floral, more complex than most perfumes of its kind, sweet, powdery and rich. And it is an explosion of flowers.

Which is how we ended up making bouquets. We were putting together our own explosions of flowers featuring many of the blooms that are used in the scent - freesias, peonies and roses, amongst others.

To finish, we used a little of the Flowerbomb dry oil to treat our busy hands and all descended from the building, bouquets in hand - quite the sight, I'm sure!

I had kinda forgotten just how heavenly Flowerbomb actually is. I highly recommend checking it out. And flower arranging. That's damn relaxing.




















The Flowerbomb collection is available from Department Stores and pharmacies nationwide with prices starting from RRP €65.00.

Happy Birthday, Flowerbomb!

Thanks to Victor & Rolf, Brown Thomas, The Flower Factory and Roisin for having me!

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How to feel about Galliano now?

I've put this post off for a couple of days as I wasn't really sure how I felt and I wanted to give myself time to think about it. But I did want to discuss Galliano's Margiela return and what I made of it. As kids we're told to forgive and forget - to move on and not hold grudges. Kids' movies are often sprinkled with messages about how we should give people second chances. Redemption is a theme all over every medium known to man.

But is this really true of adult life? Are there some things that are just unforgivable? I would argue that there are. Yet. is it even our place to choose whether or not to forgive people we do not know and will probably never meet?

It's not my place to judge the failings of others, their lapses in judgement. We merely have to trust that the structures around us (ideally) will deal with these indiscretions and make the legal judgement calls for us all. But I often struggle with these issues when it comes to artists or creators. Can you separate art and artist? Can you enjoy the work of someone who has done things you morally object to? My normal way of rationalising this is to consider how much of a fan of their work I am. If I find I can easily live without it, I do so and give the matter no further consideration. Otherwise I consider if their behaviours that I disagree with are continued, if they have apologised and if I am putting money directly into the pockets of a terrible person.

In the case of Galliano, I tried to judge how I felt objectively about his return to fashion. I tried to make sure I wasn't merely being wooed by his talent and forgetting everything I stood for. Of course, my liking his collection for Margiela (which I did) isn't going to impact him financially as a person as I won't be buying anything from it and that's not really the point of couture anyway. But, my having a voice (no matter how small) on the internet will have some teeny bit of an impact and I wanted to use it lucidly and fairly. Galliano has been missed - a rare and wonderful thing in fashion. To be so creative and impactful that your absence is noted is not something many can truly boast in the industry. The excitement his billing added to the season is not to be underestimated when so much of fashion is hype or ennui. To label him a genius is probably not to over-exaggerate. That he has apologised for the infamous incident that led to his disappearance for the past few years must also be considered and that he has returned to fashion with work firmly in mind and theatrics of old left behind. Much as we might miss that aspect of his shows - this just all seems so very respectful, if not remorseful.

Then there's the collection itself. The collision of two such big names. Two names that seem incompatible of paper. And yet, the garments speak for themselves. There's that whimsy and sense of romance of a different era that we've missed, made into a slightly different beast - more modern, sharper. You sigh at the beauty while also thinking, "Damn, that's a nice blazer. I could wear that". Wearable whimsy. Something closer to the lost art of couture that Cardin spoke of. That the pieces remind me of a fairytale with coiling, roiling beasts, jesters, warriors, witches and royalty present endear them to me further. There's something akin to storytelling present. I almost didn't want to like this collection but I cannot help it - I'm utterly enamoured. That Galliano can be so true to himself and his new house is no mean feat and that he is the first named designer for Margiela since the departure of its namesake says something. It speaks to his skill, his long servitude of fashion and the value still connected to his name.

So, where does that leave me? Somewhat conflicted still but unwilling to fight my love for what I see. Encouraged by how it was handled. Wanting to believe in second chances.

And dying to step into that fairytale on the runway.

(Images via vogue.co.uk)

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Fashback - Anne Valerie Hash A/W 2008-9

Life should be dressed in couture. True couture - not that which is "juicy" or attempts to ape the dying art. Perhaps menial tasks would be more difficult but wouldn't it be worth it in the end? Okay, maybe this is a little silly and unrealistic. I mean, you could only wear most couture as it is designed today (even when painstakingly altered to fit and move with your body perfectly) if you were to spend each day seated with little movement. And you'd have to be able to throw down tens of thousands per outfit.

Fashion legend Pierre Cardin has said many things I can't agree with or feel somewhat distasteful towards but he does make a point worth considering, especially given his expertise on the topic and many years of experience. Couture, he tells us, was once a wearable one-of-a-kind luxury but now the word has come to mean something closer to spectacle or costume. While I love my couture show-stopping, it is interesting to note that, at one time, it wasn't synonymous with period dramas on a catwalk or clothes that require special skill to wear them. Couture is now basically an extension of the French tourism board, a way to market the idea of the lifestyle France offers. Fewer houses are able to withstand the financial strain of a couture show as they almost always incur losses. They are an exercise in fancy rather than reality. This doesn't undermine the talent and creativity Couture Week displays but it does put into context how we might look at the clothes, the intended or imagined lives of the garments when designed. With only around 200 buyers in the world and an increasing attitude of creating art over design - Couture means something different today. It has to. These are investments. Installations. Things to be treated as artefacts in museums or to, in fact, be bought by museums.

One couturier, however, managed to continue the tradition that Cardin alluded to up until recently. As an alum of Chanel, the only house to claim to make a profit on their couture shows, it might make sense that Anne Valerie Hash has been the one to wave a flag for couture that's all about dressing chic, elegant women. Her education seems legible in the clothes. Sadly, it was announced that she wouldn't show again this year - further proof that couture sans a big name is a difficult thing to make work financially if not visually. But, rather than dwell on a sad note, I thought I might instead look back on one of her enduringly lovely collections from A/W 2008-9.

A skillful combination of demure and sexy. That Chanel wisdom - balance, no over-styling. Floor-trailing skirts with plunging necklines. Below the knee hems with collar-bones framed enticingly or body-con silhouettes. Shiny fabrics tamed by slinky loose fits. Traditional items given futuristic twists so organic that they seem natural, logical. No costume in sight. Tailoring and dresses. Multiple silhouettes, lengths, necklines. Again tamed - this time by the palette. Neutrals across the board, tying it together, playing it all down. Never overdone. Modern-day armour with suits worthy of kicking ass at work and dresses for the woman wearing the dress - not the other way around. Shoulder-plates, metallic fabrics, curling cut-work. But again with yin to the yang. The billowy Romantic shirts, the blushing nudes, the girlish dresses. The skill here is not only in the show-stopping beauty made of things one could actually wear, of understated things but in the creation of a collection with a complicated tapestry of influences, seemingly incompatible, that is beyond cohesive. Each piece seems the next logical conclusion. It's true artistry. Poetry in clothes. Clothes for poets. For leaders. For any woman lucky and wealthy enough to afford them.

(Images via vogue.co.uk)

Is one couture worth more than the other? Words evolve, meanings change. Couture is no longer what Cardin's generation described it as but in order to survive, things must evolve, non?

What do you think?

Chanel Couture A/W 2014-15

Chanel is a Stalworth of fashion and, even in such an ever-changing industry, it's easy to imagine it always will be. For as long as there are women, many will want to be the Chanel woman. That demographic. The club.

As much as I am one of those dreaming women, it is less the main season RTW and more the Pre/Resort collections and, of course, the couture shows that have me sighing. When I see the pictures of the Chanel Couture A/W 2014-14 collection are already up on Vogue, I eagerly and with shaking limbs, click to view them. Other shows I take in bit by bit but here I'm almost panicked in my need to see and consume. I hastily scroll through the page, too quickly for my crappy internet connection to keep up with and wait for the next images to load. Consuming is really the only correct word, I gorge and decide to come back for closer inspection once this dire need within me has been sated.

As if it ever could be.

Autumnal hues gradually freeze into icy cool tones as the collection floats by. A mixture of references and influences delight the eyes and add to my feeling of frenzy, entrancing and bewitching my senses. As one would expect from couture, it's impeccable, detailed and rich. Many Chanel standards and hallmarks are present but somehow he's done it again and found ways to make them fresh and to fit inside a collection that feels less like 20th century primness and propriety and more of 18th century extravagance and elegance.

Brocade trims grace the more simple pieces while full on embellishment swathes other garments. A gamut of fabrics and silhouettes. Eighties power-shoulders and pedal-pushers given an elegance no one knew they had in them. Punk hair with tweed suits and sweet dresses. Boyishness and ultimate princess moments. Necklines that are high and reminiscent of Eastern influences next to golden trims and shoulder clasps like something a Greek goddess would wear.

It seems almost a parade of beauty and grace through the ages and the globe, uniting all womankind in a cohesive collection. Perhaps clothing should be part of peace processes...

(Images via vogue.co.uk)

What do you make of it all? Has Colette run off on another imagination adventure or are you feeling it too?