One part Carrie Donovan, one part Iris Apfel.

Le féminisme, c’est permettre aux femmes d’avoir le choix.Ça ne doit pas être utilisé comme un bâton pour réprimander d’autres femmes. Le féminisme, c’est une histoire de liberté, d’émancipation, d’égalité. Et je ne vois vraiment pas ce que mes seins viennent faire là-dedans. C’est très perturbant.

– Emma Watson, 2017

Photo Elle UK

 

Love the light, love the colors.

 

Thanks again to @manifatturarichardginori for the super fun Caffe Ginori x The Sartorialist during Pitti Uomo!

 

And thanks to @anagimeno222 and everyone else that broke from Italian tradition and walked around Florence with the most chic to-go coffee cup ever!!

Seems like the best of men’s fashion happens in the top third!

 

To me, this feels like a renaissance/baroque portrait !

 

The face, the hair! The white-lace collar replaced by a cashmere knit.

 

Maybe it’s from spending too much time in India but I love how he’s draping his shawl (and the charming smile is very , well, charming!)

Может быть, Борис Березовский - и не из числа тех пианистов, на имя которых я лечу, как мотылек на свет (хотя есть и такие), но тут программа в самом деле исключительная. А концерт вышел - феноменальный, выдающийся. При том что про исполненную Березовским сонату Бетховена № 13 очень легко сказать "ну это вообще не Бетховен", потому что, особенно в первой части, Березовский буквально пустил бетховенскую музыкальную фактуру на "кружева", до того прозрачные, что не просто романтизмом, а почти импрессионизмом отдавало. И тем не менее сделал это осмысленно, убедительно, а от части к части провел такую динамику, что к финалу стало понятно, зачем он так поступил - но осталось загадкой, как, и это прекрасно, в этом есть великое искусство. Ну а дальше - "ударный", кульминационный раздел концерта, Барток и вдобавок к нему Лигети. Фортепианная соната Бартока, с ее жесткими танцевальными ритмами, а в финальной третьей части еще и нарочито простецкой плясовой мелодией, у Березовского вышла просто "улетно", но и вторая часть не звучала простой "передышкой" между двумя энергичными, в ней обнаружилось невероятное скрытое напряжение. Я не совсем понял - то ли из объявленных трех этюдов Лигети («Головокружение», «Заблокированные клавиши», «Лестница дьявола») Березовский почему-то сыграл только два, то ли просто совсем не сделал паузы между вторым и третьим, но ритмичный, где-то агрессивный Лигети в любом случае продолжил "тему" Бартока. Вообще программа, при всем разнообразии - от барокко до модернизма 20-го века - у Березовского выстроена с безупречной логикой. Второе отделение открывалось тремя сонатами Доменико Скарлатти (на сайте обозначенного как Алессандро, хотя, по-моему, Алессандро Скарлатти больше по вокально-инструментальной музыке работал), за которыми последовала соната Стравинского, выдержанная в неоклассическом, а вернее, в "необарочном" духе, и как бы в развитие заданного Скарлатти настроя. А вдобавок к сонате Березовский блестяще сыграл три фрагмента из "Петрушки" Стравинского в авторской транскрипции для рояля («Русская», «У Петрушки», «Масленица»), и на бис - пьеску Чайковского, тоже с плясовыми "фольклорными" ритмами. Так, на перепадах между прозрачностью, невесомостью (Бетховен, Скарлатти-Стравинский) и жесткой ритмичностью (Барток-Лигети, Стравинский-Чайковский) прошли оба отделения, пролетели незаметно, жалко, что Березовский не поиграл больше, но он порой и вовсе ограничивается официальной программой, один бис для него - уже немало.

Если один и тот же автор работает в жанре как детской, так и взрослой прозы, мы обычно ждем, что его книги, адресованные юному читателю, будут заметно отличаться от тех, что предназначены зрелому. Мол, детская и взрослая литература должны решать разные задачи, поднимать разные проблемы, иметь разную поэтику. На деле же возраст – иллюзия,  о чем мы и узнаем из книги финляндской писательницы Туве Янссон. Кстати, Янссон неслучайно называют не финской, а именно финляндской писательницей: жила она в Финляндии, но писала по-шведски.

Единственный роман Туве Янссон «Город солнца» увидел свет в 1974-м году: к тому времени серия книг и рисунков о муми-троллях уже приносила ей стабильный доход, так что большую часть времени она проводила на острове Кловахарун и в путешествиях вместе со своей партнершей, художницей Тууликки Пиетиля. Собственно, родилась книга под впечатлением от поездки во Флориду, где Янссон увидела так называемый город пенсионеров – пасторальное поселение, куда люди переезжают доживать свой век в уютном пансионе, в комфорте и неге.

Янссон, меньше всего похожая тогда – да и вообще, когда бы то ни было – как на похоронившую свои чаяния согбенную старуху, так и на активную пенсионерку, чье пугающее жизнелюбие граничит с безумием, не смогла пройти мимо посланной ей судьбой темы не потому, что ее очаровал затхлый покой, царящий в солнечном городе. Вовсе нет. Ведущей чертой авторского сознания в книгах Янссон является сострадание. Она жалеет и Муми-тролля, который в придачу к игрушечному кораблику не получил крошечной шлюпки, и истерзанную тревожным расстройством Филифьонку, и даже сердитого Хемуля – любителя тишины.

С бесконечным состраданием создает она трогательных, нелепых героев «Города солнца», так похожих на персонажей муми-серии и, в то же время, на невыдуманных стариков, которых мы встречаем на улице каждый день. Впрочем, написанные неуловимыми штрихами, их портреты имеют все-таки условно обобщенный характер: тучная, властная еврейская мамаша миссис Рубинстайн; робкая «мышка» мисс Пибоди, которая так старается быть со всеми в добрых отношениях, что теряет способность понимать и анализировать собственные чувства; смутьян и сквернослов мистер Томпсон; желчная, источенная коварной болезнью мисс Фрей; загадочная мисс Моррис, чей дивный музыкальный дар держит на плаву не только ее самое, но и весь пансион.

На фоне, на первый взгляд, тихой, однообразной, подавленной жизни пенсионеров, подсвеченной лишь редкими вспышками ссор и организованными «Клубом пожилых» мероприятий, разворачивается история страстной, изматывающей любви Линды и Баунти-Джо – единственных молодых побегов в этом высохшем розарии. Однако юных персонажей Янссон вводит в повествование отнюдь не для контраста. Не стремится она и доказать, что получать удовольствие от каждого нового дня можно и в преклонные годы. Хотя, конечно, можно.

«Город солнца» — это книга не о возрасте, не о старении, не о попытках преодолеть страх смерти. Лиричное, полное намеков и недоговорок повествование учит все тому же – состраданию. Неважно, сколько человеку лет, какие слова он произносит, агрессивен ли он или, наоборот, отвратительно мягок, крупный он или маленький, есть ли у него волосы в ушах и подведены ли его брови темно-синей краской, прежде чем сказать ему резкость, осудить или обидеть, стоит задуматься, а не идет ли сейчас в его сердце кровопролитная война, не оставляющая сил на учтивость, откровенность, умеренность – и прочие атрибуты душевного благополучия.

The reviews for the Chinese pianist’s performances with the Philharmonia Orchestra this week have been uniformly… epic.

John Allison in the Telegraph:

So can he play Mozart? Not really, but he does manage some exquisite Mozartian effects. Lang Lang’s problem seems to be a flighty attention span, which leaves him bored the moment anything is going well. Too immature to channel his huge talent, he took the biggest liberties in his staccato exaggerations that found him pecking at the notes aggressively — the antithesis of what the Philharmonia was doing under Esa-Pekka Salonen. The slow movement supplied some balm, but he romped noisily though the finale. Nothing added up.

And can he play Chopin? Not on the evidence of his encore, the Waltz in E flat, Op. 18. Touting a cheap imitation, Lang Lang played with a vulgarity seldom, if ever, heard on the London concert platform. For crimes against its national composer, Poland really ought to lock him up and toss the key into the Vistula.

 

 

Geoff Brown in The Times:

In Mozart’s Concerto No 24, out came his old trick of raising an idle hand high in the air, throbbing with excess feeling, while other hand works the keys. This clearly impressed some in the packed house, but it did nothing for the sense of continuity in the wonderful music he was playing.

What I heard mirrored what I saw: a string of effects, chiselled notes here, abrupt dynamic shifts there, each phrase leading a separate life from its colleagues ahead and behind.

Richard Fairman in the Financial Times:

Lang Lang is not a performer who can be upstaged easily and his wildly exaggerated playing in Grieg’s Piano Concerto was nothing if not meant to be noticed. The melodies were milked for every last drop of emotion. The faster music was hammered out at top speed regardless of sense or clarity (and not with the precision there should have been). Everything was reduced to showing off in a way that cheapened the music.

Michael Church in the Independent:

There never was any problem with his technique, and there isn’t now, but the implicit message of his playing in the first movement was ‘look at me’. The lovely Rondo which followed was efficient, but neither soloist nor orchestra seemed alive to its beauty; the concluding variations were brilliantly executed, but cold.

Then it was encore time: Chopin’s Grande valse brillante, distorted with relish, and turned into a vehicle for Lang Lang’s superabundant vanity. While Salonen looked impotently on, he accepted his plaudits with practised finesse, and a look in his eyes which seemed to say ‘No, really, you are too, too kind!’

 

Tim Ashley in the Guardian:

You can’t fault his often formidable dexterity, but this [Grieg] was a wayward interpretation that proceeded by fits and starts. The best of it was perversely exciting, but lurching tempo changes threatened to pull the first movement out of shape, and dynamics were extreme to the point of exaggeration in the adagio. There were plenty of characteristic grand gestures and ecstatic glances towards the audience in moments of rapt contemplation. Playing a passage for the right hand alone, at one point, he placed his left hand over his heart and gazed heavenwards. Salonen just about kept things under control.

Andrew Clements in the Guardian (CD review):

The four Chopin Scherzos are often monstrously aggressive, with their hammered chords and machine-gun figuration – what should be filigree seems more like shrapnel – and little space is given to the moments of repose that allow these wonderful pieces to breathe.

 

 

"I've always loved hair. And makeup, clothes, bags, everything. But the thing about hair is that everyone is always concerned with it. No matter what age—kid, man, woman, older...every day you're concerned about your hair and what you're going to do to it and how you're going to fix it. I always liked the idea of not being perfect, but your hair makes you look better.

In France, I studied hair for three years—it's a long process. When I moved to Paris, I started working with Bruno Pittini, who was a big hairstylist. He had a salon but also did shoots and theatre and movies. At that time, fashion wasn't what it is today, but we would work with Elle and photographers like Helmut Newton, Richard Avedon...those people really had vision. Those shoots had so much imagination and with the hair, everything has to be possible. It's not about commanding the creative process because you don't even have time to think when you're on a shoot. You just find solutions. We did crazy things, like in Marie Antoinette with Sofia Coppola, or for shows with Galliano or Gaultier. But the magic is the teamwork. You're never working by yourself.

I never thought of myself as having a personal style because we worked on doing style on people. So it's not about me—it's about what's happening in the picture. And I have so much energy and on set, I have to be in action! I'm in jeans and flat shoes most of the time.

SKINCARE
Skin is all about hydration. Joëlle Ciocco does my facial and I think the products are very good because she has a cream for when you're in your 20s, one for when you're in your 30s, another one for your 40s...there's a specific product for every age. There's a lotion for the morning, then a night cream—it's a lot of work! I use a bit of Chanel and a bit of La Mer, too. It's the crème de la crème! [Laughs] Then I like to have a bit of protection for my skin because that's very important. In the summer I swim a lot, so I use Sisley Sunleÿa SPF 50. It's a bit expensive but it's a really good product. I get that—and most of my products—from the pharmacy in France. Then there's also Biafine, which is good if you have a burn or something. Japan is similar to France in their pharmacies, so whenever I go there, I bring stuff back. Like Cosme Decorté. That brand is quite nice and is working with Kate Moss. And the other one that I love in Japan is SK-II and their famous masks. They have that Cate Blanchett seal of approval. And when I worked with her, she always had that. So I was like, ‘OK, I have to go get that.’

MAKEUP
After my creams, Nars Pure Radiant Tinted Moisturizer. It's not really a foundation, but it helps unify everything. In the summer I use Terracotta Skin Foundation by Guerlain to feel fresh. Then I use a bit of powder from Chanel or Charlotte Tilbury. I don't like the feeling of mascara so when I have time, I tint my lashes. Then I use some sheer lipstick—never red—and I'll put it on my cheeks too. There's a new brand called Christophe Danchaud x Absolution that's organic lipstick that I like.

HAIR
Me, I don’t have the best hair in the world, so I don’t need that much. I get it cut once every four or five months. And I mainly wear it up because I'm working so much. That's why I designed this pin that you can get at Bon Marché or Colette. I don't make my own products though—not yet. I work with Kerastase and Moroccanoil on shows, though. I like the Kerastase Shampoo and Conditioner and the Moroccanoil Masks—that's very important. I also love Leonor Greyl and Christophe Robin...they are both very French. I love Christophe's masks because when you are blond, you need to hydrate the hair. You wash the hair and then you condition...if I'm not working, I'll leave it in for a while. It's really a weekend process.

Then aside from products, you need good brushes. I think women forget that they have to brush their hair—after you shampoo, you should comb the conditioner through your hair. I mean, that's why it's there! Conditioner helps you brush the hair! In Japan, they have the best ones—wood with half boar, half synthetic bristles. And Mason Pearson, of course. It's the best brush.

FRAGRANCE
Eau de toilette is for day, eau de parfum for evening. I have the new Alaïa, which I love. Oh, and Santa Maria Novella. Then the Serge Lutens Fleur D'Oranger is in my bag. He has a store in the Palais-Royale and his perfume is always mixed with wood scents and things—c'est sublime. But I don't think we should use the same perfume in the winter and in the summer. In the summer, you need to be a little more fresh. But maybe that just means you don't wear perfume at all if it's too heavy.

SPAS
At least once a year, maybe twice, I go to the spa and relax. That's very important. I have thalassotherapy and Ayurvedic treatments. C’est incroyable, it’s the best treatment you can ever have. I'll do it in August when I take holiday like everyone else. Otherwise during the year, when I have time, I go to the gym. It's the best thing to do when you're somewhere like LA and you have jet lag.

When I'm in New York, I go to Spa Belles for pedicures. To me, there is nothing worse than a woman who is very chic but then her feet are not perfect. And I'm always on my feet. So I'll go and have a 'medical pedicure' and use Nars Soup Can. But never on my hands. Just feet."

—as told to ITG

Odile Gilbert photographed by Virginie Khateeb at her home in Paris on October 12, 2015. Interview by Marie-Cybele Muysers.

Next up: read about Sally Hershberger's favorite almost-lipstick and drugstore cleanser, or the skincare advice Jen Atkin got from Cindy Crawford. And discover more of The Top Shelf.

The post Odile Gilbert, Hairstylist appeared first on Into The Gloss.

J’adore le style d’Aymeline (j’adore Aymeline tout court, cette fille est juste cool), toujours tellement cool au milieu des filles sursapées, à chaque fois que je la vois je me dis que j’aurais dû m’habiller exactement comme elle. Là, c’est une photo que j’ai prise à la fondation Maeght lors d’un déjeuner Dior la semaine dernière.

Elle n’hésite pas à se faire des red carpets à plat, elle est toujours exactement elle-même. Il est temps qu’on fasse une style story à son sujet…

Гитлер терпеть не мог всякого рода мистицизм, и его страшно раздражали попытки Гиммлера превратить...

Mary Norris, one of The New Yorker's staggeringly brilliant copyeditors, has written a book about the art of fine-tuning the English language. No less than any other writer on the staff, I have happily been schooled by Mary, Ann Goldstein, and the rest of the comma squad, going back to The Gould, and I look forward to furthering my education. Congratulations, Mary!

Or so this juxtaposition of posters at the Philharmonie de Paris might lead one to believe. The Boulez exhibition is sprawling and superb. Bowie is outside my field of expertise.

At the Cité de la Musique bookstore, I picked up a copy of the Actes Sud publication Pierre Boulez — the companion book to the exhibition — and a new ten-CD compilation devoted to Boulez's Domaine Musical.

ce nouveau vernis Paradisio chez Chanel, d'un céladon clair nacré, est aussi séduisant qu'un bijou

Didier is full of wisdom. And if his plea for wild hair didn't already convince you, set down the hot tools and step away from the hairspray. Humidity and moisture are a lot less scary when you decide you're going to work with them, rather than against them.

While it's not necessarily wearable in the traditional sense, consider the above (demonstrated on Katrin Thormann) as an homage to the truly horrendous weather New York (and the rest of the country) is experiencing at the moment. It's messy-yet-architectural, wet-yet-wispy, and certainly more theory than technique.

“It’s rainy day hair. This is how she looks when she’s running to take the subway,” Didier said. “She went to a very fancy hair dresser on Madison Avenue to get ready for a big event, and suddenly, the rain came. This is what’s left of her.”

Leaving your umbrella at home: model tested; Didier approved.

Katrin Thormann (Supreme) photographed by Tom Newton.

The post Hair Made For A Rainy Day appeared first on Into The Gloss.

cette BB flash essence est, pour moi qui n'ai jamais réussi à aimer les BB creams, le petit coup d'éclat avant soirée idéal, sérum léger et imperceptible, il tend une toile de fond fraiche sur le visage

Jet lag is a cruel mistress. Ask anyone who travels regularly beyond their home time zone—there is no outsmarting it. As soon as you think you’ve broken the code, you’re drooling on yourself in the backseat of a taxi or spiral-eyed at 4am in front of some bizarre foreign infomercial.

I write this while extremely jet lagged (the result of a recent 15-hour flight) and powering through the days that followed on account of work and a personal sadistic streak. Having lived overseas for a few years of my life, I’m pretty used to this feeling by now—the veil of fatigue, the near-constant babbling, the emotional peaks and valleys of sleep deprivation.

There’s also a little disappointment thrown into the mix this time; I’d hoped to employ a new secret weapon in my battle against the lag on this trip through an app developed by researchers at the University of Michigan, called Entrain.

I’d read about it while looking into the light therapy box Lumie (which is often used to relieve jet lag), and since Entrain was free, I decided it could stand in as a low-risk trial. Named after the process of entrainment, which is the “alignment of an organism’s circadian rhythm to that of the external rhythm in its environment,” the app aims to encourage optimal light exposure in order to cut down time zone adjustment. In other words, become a vampire before you depart in order to rejoin the living as fast as you can once you arrive.

Now in its second iteration, Entrain is based on cold, hard math, and the app design feels like it. After entering your destination (a few days before travel is ideal), things get complicated. You are asked to log your average daily light exposure into an hourly grid, leading this user to spend much valuable packing time questioning the lumen levels associated with “bright” and “low” light. With an equation previously used by the US military, Entrain calculates your approximate adjustment period. It then attempts to shift your internal clock with new recommendations for light/dark exposure, but often at times that are less than convenient. For example, the app may tell you to seek the brightest light possible at midnight—a challenge if one is sharing accommodations. The app is also not entirely clear about whether artificial light will suffice during these times. If you must be in bright light during recommended dark periods, orange tinted glasses are recommended, giving fresh insight into Bono’s sartorial quirks.

Ultimately, Entrain still feels like a case study masquerading as an app; in fact, there’s a hearty recommendation to send your data along to the University of Michigan at the end of the informational video. That’s OK, because it’s free. And with all this data collection, maybe there’s the promise of a more user-friendly jet-lag expeditor on the horizon. At present, Entrain is probably best used by those type-A travelers with a lot of free time on their hands. Most people won’t pause to log light/dark periods while working per diem or sightseeing, or take time to synchronize their alarm clocks with schedules that often feel complicated and counterintuitive. I didn’t and was left with the nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something, which is already how I feel about my passport, wallet, phone, etc. during those crazy, hazy days of jet lag.

—Lauren Maas

Photo by Tom Newton. For more on sleep, click here. 

The post Sleep Training For World Travelers appeared first on Into The Gloss.

Art Paris commence cette semaine !

Pendant quelques jours, 145 galeries du monde entier sont invitées à exposer et à vendre une sélection de leurs œuvres au Grand Palais, à Paris. Le cadre idéal pour un salon artistique, dans l’un des édifices les plus mythiques de France.

Cette année, le plus cool, c’est que trois œuvres seront visibles par tous. Des œuvres d’art commandées à différents artistes qui seront projetées sur la façade du Grand Palais tous les soirs pendant Art Paris…

www.artparis.fr

i believe in hate at first sight