Fashion does it Better

Today, right now, at this minute and it't almost five past two in the afternoon, you can know, not just guess but know, exactly and go cuckoo about it, what a model, your favorite, your love in a lifetime, for a lifetime, for a while, for ever and/or a day, is doing. You know what her boyfriend looks like, what her dog is eating at this precise moment, how neat and sexy last night's dinner was. It's getting too far, too fast, it's getting trivial and the magic quickly vanishes if you walk the wrong step and think privacy and... [Lire la suite]

We were chasing around looking for materials of a totally different face when we stumbled upon these images as we landed on Silja Magg's page. Our sweet memories of many pictures she took gave us the kick to dig deeper, check further and take some time off to indulge ourselves with some more or less recent work of hers. Was a very smart and lovely way to wait for Miu Miu's show-list to be released and, even if these little gold nuggets aren't exactly what one would call brand new (roughly two years, or so), we felt allowed to... [Lire la suite]

I'm such a Bruce Lee fighting against a chewing-gum man, the battle gets sticky and tricky but I stand on my legs, I'm not ready to kiss the ground as rad as it looks like. I was looking for real monsters with rivers of blood dripping from their noses and lips. I was not satisfied and went away with my frustration. Then felt like a scientist lost in a haystack looking for a skinny needle, felt like a golddigger taken away from the promised river. It's all that, all that stuff, it's the fridge's light that says or yells 'no' each... [Lire la suite]

No matter if she's never made it on the top of our list when it comes to editorial wunderkinds, Caroline Brasch Nielsen shows enough power right here to make us hungry for a nonstop breakfast at eight in the evening. Possibly, the thing is her real appeal has never met the right lensperson, the one who can capture her the way she should be and offer her a golden path to give hundred percent of what remained too long hidden deep inside her sexy guts, boiling and begging to explode and ravish four eyes ready for visual romance.... [Lire la suite]

Although we have no oil wells, we do have wells of imagination. Or just not. Just nothing but bits of paper, plastic, iron, copper and glass. Nicotine in and out, and a picture-perfect lack of oxygen. It's all in the details, the hell is in these details, that's a useful tip to remember while cruising, on a desert day. Took some time off, to mend or get even sicker, left some time to the eyes to feel released of these visions of anonymous wannabe empresses, marching under the spotlights. Here no wannabes are, no... [Lire la suite]

If there wasn't already a part of Berlin called Charlottenburg, we would buy some acres to build a city out of stardust and give it her name. Charlotte Tomas(zewska), the wild child of polish modeling took her carpet bag to fly around the world and conquer Milan (Guccio Gucci, anyone?). Neither squeamish nor timorous, this lady knows no grey – she is a storm, she is a star, in the true meaning of that hackneyed word: she's laser-true in ever pose she strikes. You think she's near but she may be far, these pics by Nadine Ottawa... [Lire la suite]

And we had some help, gorgeous help to let vanish the bad thoughts and last night's mares. Fertile imaginations can produce hysterically funny moments or plain torments – from panthers in panties to cashiers in love under neon showers. At the exact hour nightbirds go to sleep or just wake up from coal tar and wrack, we try our hardest to keep our heads up and ears alive. Eyes are what they are and do not need a single tad of support. They see, they sweep, they send the message and slip away to paradises. More or less... [Lire la suite]

From a random kebab-house to Karl Lagerfeld via some stops at some fast-food restaurant, the station's piano and two yellow letterboxes, Daria Werbowy's trip in Paris, Gare du Nord, has more to do with our own experiences of the french capital city than what an editor-in-chief of some foreign Vogue might see from the backseat of her (or his) car avec chauffeur. The smell of wet pavements, the legions of kamikaze pigeons, the grumpy tobacconists and the nasty grannies willing to kill you with their umbrella – all these little... [Lire la suite]

We could get rid of all our addictions except this one: faces. Well, and tobacco, let's face it, but ciggies might be as thin and leggy as a model, they vanish within the next five minutes and are as quickly forgotten as they were smoked. Meanwhile visages don't wither that fast and leave no ashes, just scars in our minds and this hurts so good. Never squander, feel what happens, say Rumpelstiltskin the fastest you can and smolder after burning. We may be chasing monsters under our beds or digging for some unknown treasure,... [Lire la suite]

*Not Safe For Fashion Week. So, we start to hear about the newest Prada exclusive bookings, start to read unknown names and we'll have a look once the bottle of beer is empty. For now, we're more dazzled by one of Harley Weir's editorials from the latest issue of POP Magazine starring Suzi Leenaars. The tiny Aussie has enough punch to stun you as if you were dead drunk and forget the shows must go on, forget about the swanky lanky silhouettes tiptoeing glamourously in their stilettos. If all these runway rookies look like... [Lire la suite]