But it’ll cost ya a few grand, obvi.
Backstage at Versace SS18 be like…
…and Naomi Campbell
~this story is inspired by a quote from Donatella in this article by Vanessa Friedman in The New York Times~
BURBERRY SS18 lol
~Day 29 of being a fresh grad~
Today I had an interview for a reputable fashion editorial dept., which was (of course) granted because I am lucky enough to know a friend of a friend. #privilegepoints
I knew going into it that it would be an unpaid position, but despite my £50k of student loan debt was considering the option of volunteering my time in exchange for meeting new contacts (yes, grad life really IS that bleak, even with a First Class Honours degree from Central Saint Martins…) Well, they made sure to shift the tone of the conversation quickly, making it clear that (a) this was nothing of the sort, not volunteer or work experience (b) they were doing ME a favour by gracing me with their presence and (c) they were serious (read: pretentious) Fashion Journalists. This “prestigious” internship is meant to be full time (with “oh-so gracious” exceptions for those that need to work another job to, well, pay the rent, offers me (a graduate) no school credit and is unpaid other than Zone 1 travel expenses for a minimum of three months.
The best part is you know the director (a famous photog) ain’t slummin’ it while his platoon of unpaid interns keep his side business afloat!
As I sat, mid-auditorium, listening to UAL Chancellor Grayson Perry‘s “inspirational” speech about how lucky all us creative graduates are and other nonsense, all I could think about was the sheer amount of graduates surrounding me. 500 of us, dowsed in ceremonial black and pink and emotional nostalgia, all simultaneously being chucked into the deep end of an ocean of debt. Imagine.
I loathe nostalgia. Nostalgia looks at a high-res video of Central Saint Martins’ too-clean concrete campus set to cheesy stock music and gasps, ‘awwwww.’ Nostalgia clutches your heartstrings and wears rose-coloured glasses. Nostalgia also grossly overlooks the fact that this crowded madness of a year is only one of six ceremonies within University of the Arts London, which is one of thousands of arts universities around the world; and this amount of diploma-handing happens every year. Nostalgia forgets.
But flippance, on the other hand, that’s what I’m talking about. Flippance with a bit of pizzazz. Flippance remembers. It downs a double gin-and-tonic just before finding its seat, almost pees itself and cackles loudly about the psychological warfare its been put through. Flippance sees the £30,000+ fine over everyone’s heads and crafts a very special warning to an oversaturated creative market:
THE GRADS ARE COMING!!!
Beware of the Game of Loans… for it’s gonna be a big class this year.
Inspired by Game of Thrones, obviously.
Central Saint Martins held its annual BA Fashion Press Show the other week. Let’s just say the dense consternation, general hopelessness and overwhelming depression was palpable amongst all the debt-clad graduates this year.
For some bizarre reason I hadn’t received my ticket to the show. I realise that normally, one would assume that a notorious Fashion Icon as myself would have a VIP ticket + backstage pass + gift bag + handwritten ‘thank you letter’ with roses afterwards for bestowing my glorious presence upon any fashion-related event… And this is true. But alas, that day I was stuck waiting in the ticketless line for an hour as they made sure there was enough space for me in the standing section. We’ll chalk it down to the usual disorganised chaos that UAL is so well known for.
Anyway, seeing as I’m about as wide (and #lit) as a little burning matchstick, space was readily made.
But the wait was not over.
Oh no, the show this year lasted an astounding 3 HOURS. If this doesn’t belong in the Guinness Book of World Records of longest most anticlimactic catwalk shows of all time, I shudder to think what does. It’s funny, I’ve never noticed my bum falling asleep before during CSM’s Press Shows – I believe this is the true mark of a curatorial fail.
But let’s be clear that I do not blame the students, here. There were some great ideas – such as a superbly glutinous bread ensemble with birthing-hip proportions – it was delicious. This is obviously a great concept that is burnt into my memory. But the over-selection of students (I mean who has time for a 3-hour show, least of all me?!) and most of all the way the students tried so painfully hard to stand out in their sumo-sized class, made a show that was off-kilter at best and excruciating at worst.
But a picture is worth 1,000 words, n’est-ce pas? Therefore I’ll let my video of one of the looks do the talking:
Introducing… a little graphic novella-style project I did for BLUFF Magazine!
We all know Barbie has hundreds upon hundreds of notoriously fantastic lives. But what would the fabulous death(s) of Fashion’s luckiest pink icon be like?
Imagination… what could be the causation?
Feminism, according to the Dior Dictionary:
- noun. Fashion’s newest trendy identity, now available to purchase on a T-shirt for a mere $710; see example in gif below: