Covet

YFO Is On Hiatus

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 08:19:00 +0000

This blog is now on indefinite hiatus. Thanks for reading!

This was my first blog project and I'm very proud of it. I started it at university and posting every couple of days was fun and stimulating. I don't have the time to do that anymore, but I'll always look back fondly on my days of reviewing products and savaging celebrity outfits.

I'm keeping a selection of greatest hits online. Some pieces on this blog (especially reviews) were done in exchange for money and products from sponsors. While I was always honest in those articles (they were not 'advertorials' - I often made negative comments), I will not be keeping many of them online.

Please enjoy the purest of the fashion content churned out in the lifetime of Covet/Your Fashion Oasis!

Everybody Needs An Alexander McQueen Moment

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 09:24:00 +0000

This English designer (the son of a taxi driver, and a Pisces, for what it's worth - every second blog mentions it) grew up in London's shabby east end. One of his earliest memories, he says, is drawing a dress on a piece of bare wall where the wallpaper had peeled off in the family's council house. McQueen calls it his 'first design sketch'!

There is a quality to McQueen's work today (a luxury and a sense of abundance) that looks like a reaction against those times: the young boy saturated with a working-class aesthetic (mass culture over high culture, practicality over whimsy, function over form, Cats over Faust and Strauss's Blue Danube Waltz over Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier) has blossomed into 'the hooligan of English fashion', allowing inner vision to propel him beyond the 'classic' (bland) and functional.

The late 00s provided fertile ground for McQueen to indulge - he continues to push the 'sculptural shoe' trend (in particular) to stranger, more wonderful places.

Magical Interiors By Tony Duquette

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 04:48:00 +0000

'If I could trade places with anyone for a day, it would be the dashing Tony Duquette' - John Galliano

Costume and set designer and interiors genius Tony Duquette died in 1999, and he's one of design's best kept secrets. I think of him as a kind of Walt Disney of design. Actually, he has a kindred spirit in all of the arts - it's weird how quickly I can pinpoint them and how right it feels.

In Literature Tolkien is Duquette-esque, because he's able to construct whole imagined universes from scratch and make them feel real. In music Michael Jackson has the Duquette quality because he's fantastical and because he gets away with being over the top. You might have a split second where you'll recoil at how *tacky* or *maudlin* this all is, but there are other qualities - the great craftsmanship, the sheer force and boldness and inventiveness - that melt you. You just can't ignore him. Design has a Duquette in John Galliano himself, for obvious reasons: the vibrant colours, the mish-mashed textures, the soaring inventiveness and the showmanship.

Duquette's main room in his famous studios.

An eastern motif in pastel colours.

The orient seen through a Hello Kitty lens.

Table with chunky, Dali-esque 'legs'.

A winter ball in Los Angeles decorated with crystal snowflakes
and silver lame by Tony Duquette.

Duquette interior with his signature animal print tablecloth.

'It's interesting because Tony is probably more honest as a creator of spaces than many people because it's about the heartfelt desire to create what he perceives as a beautiful space.

Through his interiors he was able to give people the feeling they had been there for a long time, that they were very important, that they were very glamorous.

I look at decorative Tony Duquette work, its baroque roots, and it's very much about people. His interiors were about trying to create an environment where people feel they've been there forever. It is creating a false aristocratic history, a fantasy, a type of magical festival, it's a bit like Louis XIV - the fountains, the amazing sculptures, and the belief that you can make something out of nothing. It was just entirely out of his imagination.'
Designer Catherine Martin.

The part about 'false aristocratic history' is spot on. There's that grandeur and self-importance (in a good way) and - I've noticed - nods to stuffy upper class traditions from all cultures! Like in this shot above: you have intricate beaded pillows and expansive couches, all you need is a veiled Egyptian princess to languish on them. BUT on the walls are murals straight out of a Baroque Polish castle so you know, maybe the princess has shacked up with Sobieski's daughter.

Interior complete with very unusual wall feature constructed from scratch.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to have the *sense* of aristocratic history in one's home without actually having the dubious family legacies, like slave ownership, colonialist expeditions,
whoring, stuffy, penny-pinching ancestors, deaths from cholera and connections
to powerful religious zealots?

Cream and red walls with the ever-present baroque influence.

Duquette's own toilet!!

This reminds me of so many things at once: a place in an Indian Jones movie where he stays around the middle of the expedition, after he enters the orient but just before all the action scenes; a stage set from The King and I, and... Christmas! There is a Christmassey feeling to much of Duquette's work. It's the lights, sparkles and ornamentation.

Mrs Duquette's dressing room cabinet - a nineteenth century piece lined in blue felt and decorated with her collection of precious jewels.

Duquette called his wife Elizabeth 'Beegle' because she had 'the industry of the bee and the soaring poetry of the eagle'. There were also times when he called her 'Beegle jewel fiend'!

images: tonyduquette.com

Lani Hammett - What Does A Metallica Wife Wear In The 00s?

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 05:44:00 +0000

Kirk Hammett's low-profile wife Lani gave birth to a son on June 28th this year (the bafflingly named Vincenzo Kainalu Hammett). Lani was not one to strut around Nicole Richie-style in hip maternity outfits, so to answer my own question (what ARE the rocker wives wearing?) I've rounded up some pre-baby shots.

Black, leather, corduroy, no-fuss hair and cheap-looking shoes. Is that a purse she's holding or an envelope? 'Dear Lani, kudos to you for the rock spirit.' Metallica may have sold out but you sure didn't.

The only thing that's 'now' about this is the slightly emaciated look, but you know it's drugs-debauchery-and-partying induced, not the result of fussy, painstaking lifestyle choices (gym, dieting, macrobiotic foods).

A little more stylishly rock. Check out those tatts! Kirk was having a hotel mogul moment, with that Hawaiian shirt and velvet (is that velvet?) suit. His curls are tight-tight-tight, like individually stacked springs. Hers are loose and lazy. Like all great loves, they balance one another.

A playful moment captured in the tropics. You've got a red dress and a pretty hairpiece, and your husband is having a Chris Cornell moment. Can I be you?

Then again, the head segment in the lower right (from the original article) could be some woman he was supposed to be cheating with. Trouble in paradise...

Lani enters the present millennium, with sleek-looking hair, a new fringe, modern makeup and a bit of effort in the clothes department.

Pregnancy Fashion Starring Nicole Richie and Gwen Stefani

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 05:43:00 +0000

Maternity fashion. Oy vey... what a nightmare. Not every woman will literally double in size during pregnancy - you see the odd one who looks essentially the same (right up until the end!) except for a neat, basketball-shaped abdomen. 'You can only really tell she's pregnant from the side' people will say jealously.

Even for those women, maternity dressing is a hassle. If you don't balloon all over, it's like suddenly having an extra limb (aforementioned basketball abdomen). This extra limb must be accommodated, and the available dresses are notoriously frumpy, box-like and cheap-looking. And why, oh why (I will never understand this) does virtually every maternity outfit come in a selection of loud, psychedelic prints (and no block colours)? It's like wearing a tent-sized Hawaiian shirt.

Gwen Stefani set the bar for maternity fashion while pregnant with her first son, looking defiantly cute and polished right up until the end (even in those prints!)

More recently, Nicole Richie has earned the approval of fashion commentators with her (gasp) sexy, clinging pregnancy outfits. Who'da thunk it?!

Images: maxim.com, imnotobsessed.com, justjared.com

Christina Aguilera's Shocking Fashion Moments

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 10:14:00 +0000

Still on Christina Aguilera; in (dis)honour of her latest tragic VMAs moment, I'm taking a look at her fashion misadventures from past years.

Ah, the VMAs. Music awards shows typically present a wild, colourful fashion turnout: a choice showcase of dubious tastes (as opposed to television or movie award shows, where everyone scrambles to look blandly stylish, in hopes of being branded a 'modern day Audrey Hepburn'. The Emmies? A sea of floor-length earth-toned dresses. The Oscars? Beiger by the year).

Christina is an upholder of the grand music tradition. Let's check out some of her looks.

1999 and 2000: Christina debuts as everyone's second-favourite trashy nineties pop nymph. That butterfly midriff top on the left is so 'mall' (as they say) it hurts. The outfit on the right could well be a ball gown slashed to bits.

And the underlights (as opposed to highlights)! Remember those? Chunks from the under-sections of the hair would be foiled and coloured, producing that inimitable nineties trashbag look (Jessica Simpson was also a fan). Christina chose bright maroon to complement her bleach blonde. Ooh la la...

2002: It doesn't get much better (worse) than this. Christina turns up in a wraparound top (flashing some serious underboob), with an industrial strength spray tan and the most laboriously slutty red eyeshadow known to man. The dark underlights on her white blonde hair (bleached to absolute breaking point) produce a weird 'grey' effect (black + white = grey).

I have nothing more to say. Would you believe that this is worse up close? I've spared you the full size image.

2003: Christina cleans up a little and steps out in a very unusual (and quite notorious, at the time) feathered Roberto Cavalli dress. Her body looked sexy here.

2006: At the height of her fashion golden age: the fifties looks! Christina turns up with perfectly set curls, immaculate makeup and a plunge dress, just to keep things from getting g-rated.

2008: Channelling Morticia Adams (yes, that's got to be it) at the 2008 VMAs. What goes up, must come down...
images: mtv.com, christinazone.com

Christian Dior Pays Tribute To An Icon

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 07:03:00 +0000

The Christian Dior Fall/Winter 2008 show has been an extravaganza; bloggers have noted the inordinate number of A-list actresses that have flocked to the Paris show. This is truly the brand of the jet-setting elite; the secret weapon of wannabe fashion icons.

Second only in importance to the clothes themselves is the makeup. Were you wondering about the inspiration for this year's beautifully severe looks? That epic eyebrow arch and painted cat's eye may look like the stuff of fantasies, but Dior didn't just pluck them out of the air. They're inspired by Lisa Fonssagrives, iconic Swedish-born model and wife of legendary photographer Irving Penn.

It's not a reference everyone will get, but it's a testament to Dior's unfailingly chic extravagance and the broad sweep of this designer's style 'vocabulary'. Long live CD.

images: WWD.com, artnet.com

Celebrity Style At The 2008 CFDA Awards

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 08:29:00 +0000

There were a LOT of fascinating choices this year, so to save time and space I'm going to limit myself to three gongs: the Weird, the Wonderful and the Whack.

My Whack award goes to Kim Cattrall, mainly because I can't figure out why she pulled her hair into this severe top knot:

Grr, don't you just want to pull it out?

My Wonderful award (and I hate myself for giving it to someone with so little edge) goes to Meredith Melling Burke, who looked really pretty in her Oscar De La Renta dress. Who could resist?

And the Weird? I'm still trying to digest Maggie Gyllenhaal's outfit.

The thing is, I've seen this look millions of times, but only ever on fifty-five-year-old female gallery curators. All she needs is funny red-rimmed spectacles, a limp wrist, middle-age spread (isn't THAT what those blouses are designed to cover?) and a posse of artistic friends who air-kiss and call each other 'dahhhling'.

Check out style.com for more pics.

Fashion Forward Celebrities Take Chances (For Once) At the Costume Institute Gala

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Thu, 08 May 2008 03:29:00 +0000

They call it the 'Oscars of the east', but in many ways the Costume Institute Gala is like an anti-Oscars.

It's a night of experimentation. Attendees who have never taken a fashion risk in their lives are encouraged - just on this occasion- to go more Helena Bonham Carter than Jennifer Aniston. No beige tube dresses or ball gowns allowed! Here are some of 2008s hits and misses...

Is it a sleeve? Is it a cape? A flimsy jacket? Amber Valetta starts us off with a nod to the ongoing voluminous trend. The jutting cape works IMO because the body of the dress fits her like a *glove* (she looks like an Oscar statuette) and because the colour is plain.

Eugenia Silva wore something I could see on Sarah Jessica Parker - but I actually like it on Eugenia Silva. Brunettes can do quirky because their sober, classy look balances it. Go brunettes! (I just dyed my hair chocolatey and my brunette pride is at an all-time high).

Designer Diane Von Furstenberg wore one of her own dresses. And a fab pair of blue shoes. With a red sole! Where was all this flair when I reviewed her borax spring designs a couple of months ago?

Cute and quirky Maggie Gyllenhaal was made for the Costume Institute Gala. She would have looked that way anyway :)

A more demure Beyonce Knowles. She looks gorgeous! Like a candy-covered chocolate (instead of a chocolate-covered candy).

Please tell me that's not racist! I will not have my girlish encouragement censored by you PC thugs ;)

The mother of them all, Vogue editor Anna Wintour, in a white dress with unusual sea shell accents. It reminds me a little of Oscar winner Marion Cotillard's mermaid dress. On the other hand, it reminds me a little of something from Star Wars.

You know what? I like it either way! Who can argue with Anna Wintour's fashion choices?

Donna Karan in a sagging, puke-coloured dress of her own design... she should have saved this for the SAG awards. Is that a stain between the folds at the front?

Eva Mendes looked the way she usually does, only with a few snips and folds at the hem. Is this really innovation?

Fergie looked frumpy.

My personal favourite. Kate Bosworth looks like a model pre-catwalk, not an actress.

Marilyn Manson Has a New Girlfriend

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 10:41:00 +0000

That's Manson's girlfriend on the left. Isn't she the spitting image of his ex, Dita Von Teese (right)?

Wait a second, that's not a new girlfriend. It's his cradle-snatched beau of many months, 20-year-old Evan Rachel Wood from Thirteen. Would you have recognised her in a million years? What's with channelling your boyfriend's ex?

Not since Lisa Marie Presley hooked up with Michael Jackson in the 90s has a female been spotted taking such obvious style cues from her lover (though Presley wasn't imitating any ex wives, she just started to look like Jackson himself).

But then Michael supposedly copied HIS style from Diana Ross, whom he was said to be deeply in love with. So Jackson was an intermediary, influencing Lisa Marie Presley to adopt Ross's style in much the same way that Dita Von Teese's look has migrated to Evan Rachel Wood through the romantic conduit of Marilyn Manson. It's all a rich tapestry.

In a bizarre gender reversal, Brad Pitt is often spotted playing style floozy, trying on his girlfriends' looks the way a flippant shopper tries on pantsuits.

It's that much more disturbing with Evan Rachel Wood because she's so young and impressionable, and because the transformation was so full-on (remember her as a mousy-haired tomboy?)

images: Wired, Getty

Christian Lacroix Hits New York! This Calls For A Retrospective...

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 09:06:00 +0000

French designer Christian Lacroix opened his first New York store yesterday on swish East 57th street (home of Chanel, Dior, Yves Saint Laurent and Louis Vuitton). This big name will fit right in - but why has it taken him so long?

Asked why he waited twenty years to set up shop in America's fashion capital (could it be a snub? How French!) the mild-mannered designer simply said:

'...I prefer to do everything with good timing, with a good location.'

Fair enough. To celebrate this milestone in Franco-American relations, let's check out what Lacroix has been up to for the last eight years.

2000 Wacky patterns, cropped jackets and parade of ever-changing trouser cuts. Lacroix's designs at the turn of the century betray a definite party sensibility.

2001 Toning it down (just a little), blackening it up and playing with coloured tights long before any of us were even dreaming of it.

2002 Voluminous shapes and loud patterns (and pigtails) sound a final death knell for the sober, streamlined nineties.

2003 A brief love affair with skin took us all by surprise.

2004 Flirting with the fifties and sixties, and abandoning that reliable old red ready-to-wear setting for good.

2005 Russian-tinged glamour took everybody's breath away.

2006 Patterns galore! And the girliest vibe to date

2007 A more mature outlook, darker colours and a an outer-space aesthetic.

2008 Coats bulked up and colour was almost nowhere to be seen at the spring ready-to-wear show.

images: Style.com

Marc Jacobs' New Handbags for Louis Vuitton

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 13:12:00 +0000

More on Marc Jacobs: his line of handbags for Louis Vuitton has provoked lots of chatter in the blogosphere. The 'Joke Bag', especially, is getting lots of hate, both for daring to be a quirky version of everyone's favourite, the tan monogram bag (the Joke Bag is basically a classic LV with some pink and faded sections and a string of jokes printed on the side - innovative, I guess) and for the fact that the jokes on the bag are actually - get this - sexist. Yes, this is a women's handbag. They're sexist in a cutesy 1950s way (jokes your harmless old grandpappy would tell, because he doesn't know any better) but still sexist. Here's a couple:

'Every time i meet a girl who can cook like my mother, she looks like my father.'
'My wife went to the beauty shop and got a mud pack. For two days she looked beautiful. Then the mud fell off.'

And they're not especially funny. Can Marc do anything right? For those who haven't seen his candy-coloured new Louis Vuitton line yet, here's a choice selection.

My favourite, I think, and one of the least colourful (usually I'll go for the most, but this line is out of control!). Those pink ovals look like real candies you've stuck to the side because you couldn't finish them.

The infamous 'Joke Bag'. See the classic monogram, fading to make way for the jokes? I don't like the whole design and colour scheme. Faded brown is just 'yech' in my book, unless we're talking about really beautiful, aged leather.

A whole bunch of bags squished together to make one giant superbag! That teeny orange purse sitting askew in the middle really drives the point home.

This one's called the 'Speedy'.
Colourful monogram + leather straps + beads + pendants. Yowza!

Victoria Beckham Goes All Bai Ling (And Kind Of Creepy Looking) For The New Marc Jacobs Ad Campaign

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 11:24:00 +0000

A new photo from Marc Jacobs' ad campaign featuring Victoria Beckham has just been released. And what a shot it is! Bloggers from all over the web are bonding gleefully over the sheer... well, fugliness of this shot. The blotchy skin! The awkward pose! The terrible hair-piece/synthetic fringe (obviously designed with a black-haired, baby-faced Asian girl in mind, not a sinewy white girl with an asymmetrical blondish-brown 'pob')! The visible bra! The weird clear straps holding her dress up, carefully matched to the piece of material around her neck which is apparently supposed to pass for a necklace! The way that industrial-strength spray tan finishes suddenly at her wrists, giving way to lily-white hands! The harsh, unflattering light! Oh. My. God. What were they thinking?

Normally I'd be the first to stand up and say that artistic experimentation in fashion photography should be welcomed and encouraged. Who wants to see another picture of a long-haired nymph shooting us her best pout and flattering three-quarter face view?

But I have to say: nothing about this shot really sits right, does it?

Someone told me recently that they like Marc Jacobs' ads because they're not *about* being perfect. They're about capturing a real, intimate moment. That's a great philosophy, but I think it was a real mistake to try it with Victoria Beckham. Let's face it, she's all ABOUT fakeness. From that tan to that razor-cut hair to the malnourished, exercise-ravaged body to the synthetic minis and the permanent pout... she's turned herself into an almost alien being. Her whole look is geared towards looking great on the red carpet, when she's wearing a tonne of makeup and an expensive dress. Take her out of her natural habitat (a glamorous party or photo shoot) and she just looks kind of odd. Seeing this picture is a bit like seeing her in the kitchen in the morning, reeking of Lancome tanning lotion, with rollers in her hair and an incredibly bright light casting shadows under her eyes. I thought she was cuter before I saw this! And that's a shame, because I hate fakeness.

But if you pick the fake look you have to commit to it :( No poorly-judged, half-assed experiments with 'naturalness' and 'intimacy'! Where was her publicist when she needed him?

Maybe it would work if she was paler. Lay off the fake tan if you know the lighting will show you up. And lose the plastic strap necklace. And match your fringe to your hair!

Ooer. *Shudder*

Frances Bean Cobain Is No Grunge Chick

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 10:15:00 +0000

When Kurt Cobain commited suicide in 1994 grunge ruled the world. The chic set was not comprised of child-sized women with gym-toned arms, spray tans, colourful dresses and enormous sunglasses (hard as that is for us to fathom, in the waning bling era). It was made up of angsty characters with artless bed-hair and rumpled band tees. The guys wore flannel shirts and bedrooms were wallpapered with posters of the Seattle 'big three' (Soundgarden, Pearl Jam and Nirvana). For both sexes, Doc Martens were the shoe of choice. If women emphasised their bodies at all it was with tight black jeans (yech, do you remember?) personalised with sew-on patches or even (shock horror!) permanent marker doodles. I actually remember the girls in the year above me painting their nails with liquid paper and drawing on their thighs.

And this is the chic set.

The suicide of Kurt Cobain sent shock waves through the teenage world. A string of copycat suicides followed (look up 'copycat suicide' on wikipedia and it's mentioned in the first paragraph- the world's premiere example). Grunge-heads mourned, sobbed, tore their stringy hair out, wrote angsty poetry, listened to 'Lithium' on repeat, constructed eerie Kurt shrines, channelled the singer with Ouija boards and started short-lived Nirvana-rip-off garage bands. It didn't pass for about a decade - every year as the anniversary of Kurt's death approached youth counselling organisations began to get nervous and heightened their feel-good efforts. An orgy of teenage self-harm had become naturally associated with Cobain's final day: a certainty, like exchanging presents on Christmas.

Amidst all the sadness- the cries and howls and curses- a few whispers of hope could be heard. Kurt had a daughter, Frances Bean Cobain, whose mother was none other than riot-grrl Courtney Love, notorious boozer and frontwoman of nascent rock band Hole. At that stage Love was better known for her on-stage presence than for public benders or a propensity to show up paralytic at interviews and flash her boobs (Cobain, when prompted to count his blessings, once stated that he had 'a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy' - how Love's press has deteriorated since then). Kurt was gone, but his legacy lived on in handbag-sized baby daughter Frances Bean. Die-hard fans speculated, with moist eyes, about whether this tike would take those alpha music genes and make the most of them. For a while it looked like the dream was still alive.

This Elle shoot from 2006 is positively heaving in its eagerness to style Frances Bean as a grunge girl in the making. That was two years ago - since then hip hop and electro beats have tightened their stranglehold on the public imagination, and Kurt's daughter has grown up and started to look more womanly (earlier this year she declared to People magazine: 'I am not my parents'). This month came the clincher: Elle competitor Harper's Bazaar published a very feminine, very high-fashion, very 'now' spread featuring the adolescent Child of Rock. The theme? An homage to some of Frances' favourite characters from musicals (she's not quite grown-up, after all).

Grease

Beauty and the Beast

Evita

The response has been very positive - until now a great portion of the music-loving public didn't know what this girl looked like. FBC has exploded into mainstream awareness in a puff of glamour, satin, ruching, perfect makeup and and skyscraper heels. Not as a grunge-revivalist ingenue, but who cares about that anymore?

Well actually, some people do. When these shots were first published on Gawker the comments were a mixture of surprise, encouragement and good old-fashioned covetousness (mainly directed at that yellow Zac Posen dress in the middle). But one response in particular- from a guy- stood out for me. He was clearly a grunge-head, with a picture that just screamed 'hanging on to the nineties for dear life': stringy-hair, baggy clothes, sitting on the floor in a dirty apartment. I wish I could remember his screen name (Lithium4Life or kurtNkrack or something like that). His comment?

'She's almost ripe'.

Ooer... disturbing.

Kurt Cobain is a legend, and the seismic impact of Nirvana cannot be denied and may never be duplicated, but his era has passed. Anyone still hanging onto grunge like a security blanket is probably a little... well, maladjusted.

Who can blame this little bean for wanting to distance herself?

The Future Is Here

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 05:30:00 +0000

Some of the wildest looks of this season (or any!) surely belong to Gareth Pugh, who sent models down the runway in deathly white makeup and clothes that were part futuristic viking, part swamp monster. Now THAT's fusion.

Star Wars, anyone?

Make your Cheekbones Pop

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 03:18:00 +0000

I heart this product! Blush is the one product that can make you look polished instantly. I was delighted to see that Covergirl had analysed the phenomenon... and released a neat compact designed to maximise the cheekbone 'pop'. Makeup is all about lighting and shading- apply a light shimmery shade to some area and you bring it forward. Applying a dark, matte shade will cause that area to 'recede' in the eyes of a viewer. Why not make the most of this?

Covergirl 'Instant Cheekbones' Contouring Blush includes mid, light and dark shades; apply the mid as you would your usual blush (on the cheek apples), the light slightly higher (closer to your eyes) and the dark shade in the hollows of your cheeks (handy diagrams are included for blush novices).

Voila! Your face looks instantly sculpted.

I'm not kidding ! When I first saw this product I thought 'pfff, one of those overwrought makeup ideas that doesn't actually do anything' (falling square in this category is white eyelash primer. You know those double mascaras that were popular for a while, which had a white tube on one end and the black on the other? I've never met anyone who didn't agree that they just make your lashes look gunky and sticky). But Instant Cheekbones really does look fantastic.

Bliss! It's a Fashion Oasis because:

- essentially you're getting a highlighter, blusher and bronzer in one package. Makeup artists use three separate products in exactly the same way to achieve the same effect. Now regular gals can do it with one teensy compact.

- at only $5, you really are getting value for money. If you're not a big fan of emphasising your cheekbones (something I'll never understand, but these people do exist) but you want to try it occasionally, this is the product for you. No need to make three separate investments.

-you know you're not paying extra for the packaging. It's clear, no-nonsense Covergirl plastic. The money you pay is getting you quality makeup.

- You can use it on your brow bone as well, for a nice, matched glowing look.

Leaving you Hot and Bothered:

-if you bought a separate bronzer, highlighter and blush you could choose products that are tailored for your skin, go for favourite brands or have a wider choice of colours. Also, true bronzer and highlighter can be used all over the face and body- can't do that with these little powders.

- some people say they don't trust themselves to blend blush properly. The problem will be tripled here !

-after a week or two the packaging gets powdery and it really does look like crap

Maybe you'd prefer to spend extra and get something you can display on your Vanity with pride (no pun intended!)

Verdict: Four Oases

Lay Off The Spray Tan Or You Could End Up Looking Like THIS

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 12:48:00 +0000

I had to post this shot of tanorexic guys in a club (from http://www.boingboing.net/ )

Is this what happens when men become vain?

Well, not always. David Beckham looks great! And shocking spray tans aren't strictly the domain of preening men; I've seen doozies on girls in the street (never quite THIS bad! Centuries of vanity have left girls pre-programmed with at least some sense of what looks good slapped on their faces. And if it hasn't - if they have NO makeup sense - a torrent of bitchy remarks will usually set them straight by the end of high school).

But the fact stands: metrosexuality in the wrong hands can be disastrous...

There's actually an equation for the look:

Metrosexuality + the wrong hands = crazed Eurotrash !

The girls in the photo are either very young and naiive, too tipsy to be critical, distracted by something else, respectful of these guys for intangible reasons (inner beauty?) or determined to look serene and pouty when the pic is posted on Myspace. Because they're not even cringing.

The one on the left looks like he's been dipped in warm Max Brenner chocolate. With none of the usual sexy and erotic consequences.

Wow!

Kirsten Dunst Goes to Rehab

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Sat, 09 Feb 2008 03:11:00 +0000

I used to think of Kirsten Dunst as this gorgeous, eternally polished chick who could rock any hair!

Or as the celebrity who got to wear those a-ma-zing costumes in Sophia Coppola's 'Marie Antoinette'

After she went into rehab I did an image search on the web and found a different crop of pictures jumping out at me...

Drunk!

Bad skin!

Old!

No Front teeth!

That's perception for ya...

Dark Pleasures

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Sun, 03 Feb 2008 07:02:00 +0000

Shade Tried: Steel-etto

I took a picture of this against my other nail polishes and it looks like an army of bubblegum teenagers lining up to battle the Antichrist!

This is a heavy, shiny shade, part of Revlon's limited edition 'Dark Pleasures' line. My nails were shortish when I applied it, which wasn't ideal; darker shades tend to make nails look even shorter. But it's a good colour: not-quite-black! It dries a deep bluish grey (like steel) but still catches the light.

Just a little bit Vampire.

Bliss! It's a Fashion Oasis because:

- For A$7.95 (about 5 US dollars) you're getting a limited edition shade.

- Great colour. I've heard people say Revlon colours can look cheap, I think they're hit-and-miss. This one is chic; a cool variation on the all-popular black? Get this if you're sick of Chanel 'Black Satin' (declared 'the polish of the season' by kissandmakeup.tv) and want dark talons with a twist.

- I wore it for three days before I noticed any chips. This is with all the typing/ can-opening/ product-perusing/ food-unwrapping and home-maintaining I do (erm, average to high...)

Leaving you hot and bothered:

-I had to apply three coats to get that chunky look. A lot of people don't have the patience. Also dark shades look their best chunky IMO.

-It takes ages to dry. Actually, this is my biggest problem with Revlon polish - it dries in about the time it takes to proofread a doctoral thesis. Compare to Cutex 'Metallic Flash', which I've been wearing for the last two weeks and which dries in 60 seconds! Slow dry means you have to endure that annoying two hours trying to remember not to touch anything. Times that by three (for the three coats) and yep, you'll need a whole Sunday afternoon.

-A lot of people don't like buying Revlon because they're not known as a particularly ethical brand (toxic chemicals used in the production processes, animal testing stories floating around, etc, etc...)

Verdict: Three Oases

The Craziest Piece of Jewellery I Have Ever Seen

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 04:14:00 +0000

I remember having conversations about men's jewellery in the nineties. Every now and then an actor would show up on the red carpet (Robert Redford springs to mind for some reason; was he famous for rocking a bit of bling?) wearing a non-religious chain, or a modest gold bracelet. This never failed to elicit sneers and jeers:

'Jewellery on a guy! Nuh-uh.'

Fast forward to 2008 and look how far we've come! Hip hop has exploded out of the ghetto and into charts, malls, high schools, designer collections and suburban teenage hearts. And with it, it's brought CHAINS. Men's chains. And pendants as big as your head. Check out 'Beautiful Girls' singer Sean Kingston and his iced-out crayon box!

Madness.

For the Love of Colour

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Sat, 05 Jan 2008 05:56:00 +0000

I love colour; I really do. I'm mad for it. Look at this image, what's your response? Your immediate emotional reaction?

Mine is... a giddy appreciation for the colours! Yes, the big-breasted, scantily-clad woman barely registers... maybe that just goes to show I'm a girl!

A red blooded bloke might respond differently but trust me, on some level he is enjoying the colour too. He just doesn't realise it. Colour kicks ass!

D

o you think it's too much? Dolce and Gabbana do colour the way everyone says it should be done: a splash of red somewhere (like a handbag) to brighten up a dull outfit, or a wild psychedelic belt to make a shift dress interesting. Check these out.

Notice the skirt on the left, the shoes in the middle and the bag on the right. D and G have used colour as a sort of icing on their sartorial cake. It reminds me of those blackand white photos where they keep the lips bright fuchsia for impact.

Forget that. I love a no-holds-barred colour-fest. Done right, it can be super-sexy. It's a mood-lifter, like a shot of coffee! People smile at you when you're colourful.

Here's a close-up of those shoes.

Show me a pouty, big-bootied girl gyrating on the dance floor wearing denim hotpants (frayed at the bottom, Britney-style) that leave her butt cheeks hanging out and a black tube top (old, dusty black; after a film of grey develops on top and it doesn't match your other black stuff anymore) and I'll watch disapprovingly.

Show me the same girl in super-cute pink hotpants and an electric green tube top, with bright lips and frilly socks and I'll think 'what a big, smiley ball of fun' and blow her a kiss! She can be showing even more cheek. It doesn't matter; it's not about skin, it's about colour.

Colour is a natural serotonin boost! It can cancel out sluttiness; such is its power.

Now excuse me while I admire the colours in this shot.

Thanks to Charles Williams for these awesome images

No Ordinary Powder

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 11:18:00 +0000

Shade tried: (6) Fresh Rose

Every now and then you just have to invest in a luxury brand. Givenchy's Prisme Libre "Air sensation loose powder quartet" has luxury written all over it.

Pricey (50 US dollars), but this is no ordinary product. Not one chamber but FOUR, each with a different coloured powder (pastel pink, orange, beige and purple). They sift out together on the puff and combine on your face to create the most beautiful rosy hue. The smell is divine and the sifters are four little G shapes, so you are actually patting little Givenchy symbols onto your face! So extravagant!

Even when I wear this over matte makeup the finish is perfect, never heavy or flaky, and it lasts. An amazing product.

image: Sephora.com

Verdict: Two Oases

Do you have the patience to be well-groomed?

noreply@blogger.com (aesthete12345) — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 09:47:00 +0000

I think a fashion mag is like an apple, because the first bite is the tastiest. When I read the latest glossy the pictures look better than they ever will again. ‘Pah!’ scoffs my boyfriend when I tell him, ‘that’s because it’ll all be out of date in a month, and you’ll want a new tiny, useless bag.’ He gestures at the clutch I’ve just dished a full pay cheque for. It’s lying on the couch, tipped to an awkward angle and clashing terribly with the upholstery.

‘You’re wrong!’ I declare, and I don’t mean about the clutch (it’s possible that I will want a new one in a month or so) but the magazines. It’s simpler than he says: they look their best at the start of the month because I’m seeing them for the first time. Every outfit is novel; every themed page (hats! girly! burlesque! techno!) is a sensory overload; every pose and pout in the spreads is unexpected (the way expressions should be when they jump out at you in real life). Even the details sing out, harmonising with each other to form a sweet melody that is… well, the season. Each mink capelet is a twist; every crystal-beaded lapel is a beautiful stranger; every shock of lip colour is actually a shock (especially this autumn. Violet lips at the shows! And orange!). I may even have seen them already on the web, but not arranged quite like this. It’s a visual feast.

When I was about seven my dad took me to my first Freddy Kruger flick (remember the guy with the striped jumper and knife hands? Actually, he’s back in vogue. I recently complimented a cute male friend on his red-and-brown striped jumper: Freddy Kruger chic!). I have never been so terrified in my life; I actually collapsed into the aisle at one point when those blade fingers burst through the wall and speared someone. When I saw it again and again (on video) it was still scary but… never quite as deliciously so. Fashion is the same: it loses a little of its punch if you know what’s coming.

The magic is in the little things… that flash of colour; that unexpected touch; that little bit of perfection, like a gorgeously manicured hand. You might not notice it at all until you’re about to part ways and someone offers you their hand to shake, complete with chic black nails. It’s a footnote that says: ‘you know I’m hot!’

That’s what this season’s girlie makeup trend is all about: details. Prepare to rediscover your perfectionist streak. You’ll need it to achieve the Dita Von Teese look. It’s not like a false eyelash can just be slapped on: you cut it into sections, you apply glue carefully to each one, you hold your breath and fiddle until it’s perfectly aligned with your natural lashes, you press until the glue is dry, you draw a neat black line to conceal the base. Is it gorgeous? If not, start again. If so, repeat for the other sections.

Presto! You’re ready to move on to the right eye. After that: concealer, foundation, highlighter, lipstick, body-moisturiser, etc, etc, moving all the way down to your feet, which must be clean, buffed and lacquered. And don’t forget your hair! Have you heated up the curling iron? No? Oops, you’ve just lost ten minutes…

It’s not an everyday look - by the end of the season you might throw up your hands, shriek ‘I’m over it! Kate is my muse again!’ and burst out the door with a scrubbed face and bed hair, a la Miss Moss. But if, like me, you’ve seen the runway examples, you’ll be trying it at least a couple of times a week. Gucci sent models out with barrel curls, crimson lips and matte skin; the forties had returned in all their prim glory. Clothes were well tailored (forget last season’s voluminous shapes - girly dressing is all about clean, sharp lines): fitted blouses, wool tights and tiny, belted waists. Chunky shoes and adventurous details (such as alternating tweed and leather, embroidered shoulders and even the odd plunging neckline) brought the designs into the twenty-first century; a modern take on ‘ladies who lunch’. It’s neo-girly; everyone from Von Teese to Christina Aguilera has embraced the look.

I’ve mentioned that it’s time-consuming, but done right, it’s oh-so-worth it! When I leave the house dolled-up (false lashes, red nails, blow-dried hair) it’s a whole different universe. Men stare, women gawk, shop assistants drop everything to help you, skittish types scurry aside to give you more room on the footpath. It’s a look that says, ‘I’m somebody. I’ve succeeded. Acknowledge me!’ I walked into my first college maths class done up like this: full makeup, set hair, olive pants and singlet. By the end of the class I had a date. A few weeks later the guy showed me a poem he’d scribbled about me that day (instead of absorbing the lecturer’s rant about probabilistic axioms). It was called ‘The Girl in Green’ and it went something like this: ‘she walks in and yet she is separate/ a soldier for class in a class for maths. Every head turns to stare/ each regards her as an outsider’.

Well, I caught his eye, but this reveals a side effect of perfectionist dressing: people may stiffen up a little around you. It isn’t a relaxed look, so prepare to be tiptoed around (it might not be relaxing for you either- resist the urge to fiddle with that belt, tug at that scarf or adjust those loosening curls). This was how my poet-boyfriend felt; I’m glad he asked me out anyway. After dating for a while we started studying together. I’d show up without makeup- just moisturiser, lip-gloss and washed hair. ‘You look great’ he’d tell me. ‘I mean, I like the makeup too, but when you’re done up I feel like I can’t touch you. Like I have to be careful and stay a bit further away. It’s artificial. This way you seem more like… a person.’

Ok, well, that sounded bad, but I wasn’t put off. A look can say a lot, and I got some pretty encouraging looks from him when I was made up. You know when a shock wave of desire comes over and hits you? I love that from my guy! Guys say they like women natural because that’s when they can get physical, but I’m convinced they love a work of art just as much. Make yourself a girly work of art! That’s what the season is about.

Anything else to watch out for? I don't think the look can be done by halves. When I put on just a false lash, or try just a red lip, and leave the rest of my face relatively bare, it looks wrong. I don’t look like I have ‘a touch of forties sensibility’, I look like I was going for a forties look but I only got halfway there. Like I didn’t finish getting ready. It’s not just me; I’ve seen this on other women. A lady with the chunkiest fake nails I’d ever seen (hot pink ones - thick as teaspoons - with the cuticles filed red-raw; ouch!) recently handed me a steak sandwich in a café. The rest of her was unkempt; she’d obviously leapt out of bed, pulled her hair into one of those rushed scrunchie-knots, and bolted to work bare-faced.

Her hands hovered above the bread like helicopters. ‘There you go love, you want me to cut it in half?’

‘No, no!’ I said intensely, and she gave me a look. I gazed around and didn’t explain - maybe I could pass myself off as one of those people who is passionate about everything (you know the people - every topic makes their blood boil, from globalisation to censorship to family loyalty to religious freedom, and even small fry like sport results, the amusement factor of The Simpsons, eighties fashion and - yes - the prospect of having one’s sandwich bisected). It must have worked, because she ignored me and proceeded to bag my lunch.

I went into a semi-hypnotic state, watching those hands dart around. An extravagant detail can look pretty silly by itself; the whole package has to be right. . I hope your fashion muscles are well toned, because getting ready this season might just be a marathon. But it will be worth it!