A Trip to the Met

I had the chance to pop up to the Metropolitan Museum to see the Costume Institute show called "The Model as Muse." Its theme is iconic models of the twentieth century and their roles in projecting and sometimes inspiring the fashion of their times. The exhibit started with the Charles James dresses pictured above, pieces of sculpture in their own right. Their rich, saturated colors and heavy, lustrous fabrics created a delicious tableaux. These dresses reminded me of Millicent Rogers, the Standard oil heiress who wore the most subtly colored Charles James gowns. She was also a very creative jewelry designer and lived in a house in Taos, New Mexico, now a museum out in the desert which TD and I have visited. Charles James was a sad story: though he created the most beautiful clothes, the eccentric designer died penniless in the Chelsea Hotel on 23rd Street.

In "The Model as Muse" show I was delighted to see one of my favorite fashion photographs of all time. Here is model Lisa Taylor wearing Calvin Klein photographed by Arthur Elgort in Vogue from October, 1976:

I think it captured American fashion so well: simple, clean, healthy, strong. Legendary fashion editor Polly Mellen worked on this shoot, and when I met Polly, we talked about this picture. Polly said, "She is the epitome of the modern woman, deep in thought, not just looking beautiful."

Here is another famous, iconic fashion photo in the show, also Lisa Taylor, also wearing Calvin Klein, this time shot by Helmut Newton for Vogue, May 1975. Polly worked on this shoot too: Polly really is one of the greats, isn't she? Someone should do a show on her.

This picture expressed the then new feminism movement; the woman in a sheer dress with her legs spread was clearly ogling the man passing by. Again, the picture is simple, strong, chic, just like the clothes. And Lisa Taylor was a knockout, the perfect embodiment of American beauty.

After that I went up to the Sculpture Roof Garden where currently installed is this crazy stainless steel sculpture called Maelstrom by Roxy Paine.

It's meant to make the viewer feel as if he is "immersed in the midst of a catalysmic force of nature" but honestly I was just afraid I was going to trip.

Or poke an eye out.

Then I went to the New American Wing. They cleaned things up and simplified there, taking out a gift shop and adding a little cafe; it would be a nice place to eat lunch.

On the way home I saw this guy on the subway; I think he was a model. Slim white shirt, narrow dark denim jeans, brown suede wing-tip tie-ups, cotton canvas bag with leather trim, wooden skate board. Very cool. Don't you love New York?

Richard Avedon

Roger Vivier Evening Slipper for Christian Dior, 1963

A little while ago TD and I popped up to midtown and saw the Richard Avedon exhibit at the International Center of Photography -- an evocative show that recalled for me an elegant time gone by.

Richard Avedon changed the shape of fashion history with photography that moved with great energy. Previously fashion photography was carefully posed, but he encouraged young models to be active. I once interviewed model Lauren Hutton for Architectural Digest over sandwiches in the East Village. She told me that when she arrived in New York from Florida, she was a fashion novice and really didn’t know what she was doing at fashion shoots. Avedon said to her, “Well, what did you do in Florida?” Hutton said, “I ran through the swamps and jumped off the trees,” and Avedon said. “So run and jump here.” And there you had it.

Veruscka, 1972

Avedon really captured an era in fashion history – the sixties and seventies and eighties when American fashion was coming to the fore. His energetic pictures expressed the free, easy spirit and clean, simple lines of American sportswear being created by Anne Klein, Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren. And of course he photographed most Vogue covers during editor-in-chief Grace Mirabella’s reign from 1971 to 1988. Avedon and lively, sexy American fashion were a perfect match for each other at the time.

Not surprisingly, it wasn’t all angels and light with Avedon, who died at age 81 in 2004. When I interviewed legendary fashion editor Polly Mellen who worked closely with Avedon over her long career, we talked in her second floor sitting room with verdant views of the garden and pool and hills of Connecticut beyond. She pointed to the bed and remarked, “This is where Dick Avedon said, ‘Now I know where I’m going to have my nervous breakdown!”

Chanel with Suzy Parker

But the pictures in the show, from 1944 to 2000, are beautiful. Moving from the forties to 2000, they document the evolution of his style as a photographer, from the posed pictures of the French couture in Paris in the fifties to the great energy and dynamism of the sixties.

Veruscka, 1963

I think all of the photographs in the show are black and white; I would like to have seen some of his color photography. Also, when I think of Avedon I think of Lauren Hutton and the doomed Margaux Hemingway galloping across pages, and I did not see that in this show. But, over all it is a poetic distillation of an era, quiet and elegant, and a welcome relief from the cacophony of modern life that awaits outside the door.

Afterwards, TD and I had a glass of wine and a little cheese plate at the bar at Gottino on Greenwich Avenue.

Chic spot – I recommend it. I bought my Schwinn bicycle on the sidewalk here last summer. If you order some cheese, get the gorgonzola mixed with marscopone or ricotta.

A Working Weekend

At work in the office with my friend Dan

I'm working all weekend at the ad agency on a big presentation which is going out to the West Coast on Monday so there won't be any blogging this weekend from far flung garden tours but please stay with me!

Views from the offices

Hoboken Garden Tour

(click on photos to enlarge)

TD was on a business trip this weekend and Sunday was a beautiful sunny day so I decided take myself on the Hoboken Garden Tour. Hoboken, New Jersey, is located across the Hudson River from Manhattan. Several friends have moved there, but I had never been and was curious to check it out. I'm a big fan of house tours and garden tours because they really give you a good sense of a new neighborhood; I've been on tours in Brooklyn Heights, Boerum Hill and Fort Greene, all in Brooklyn. And on garden tours, you often walk through the house to get to the garden so you get to see the house as well. 

Before I struck off in the morning I took some snaps of a few of our pots out front which now have pansies, impatiens and ivy. Soon the pansies will fade away when it gets hotter but now I like the colors. 

I jumped on my trusty blue bike and bicycled up to the ferry boat terminal at 38th Street for the boat ride across the river. I was the only one on the boat! 

I love a boat ride on the Hudson. Several years ago we took a boat ride with friends up the Hudson to tour Kykuit, the Rockefeller estate, and then took the boat home. This is looking north to the George Washington Bridge.

Looking south, I can see the building where I work.

Good bye Manhattan for now.

Arriving in Hoboken, a pretty water front.

I bought a garden tour ticket at the Hoboken Museum, and had to cool my heels waiting for the next guided tour.

Off we went, about twenty people with a Hoboken resident who knew a lot about the architectural history of the city. We saw ten gardens and walked for more than two hours which was quite a schlep and a good work out. Streets were lined with brownstone houses and then gave way to newer buildings. In this garden fat pale peonies bloomed under a really beautiful pink birch tree; I have never seen a pink birch tree -- I have to remember that. 

This garden had a living room feel with indoor/outdoor furniture.

The homeowner built this ruin and put yogurt on the stone to make it look aged.

Several homes opened on to this community garden -- very Tales of the City.

Pink roses climbed up a black iron porch.

After the tour I got back on the boat home.

Heading toward Manhattan. 

Good bye New Jersey.

It was a fun to see a new place, and for me, flowers plus water is a nice day. The garden tour made me realize how much I would like to have a garden again. After the tour I saw flowers in my mind -- visions of roses danced in my head. 

My Corner of the World

Lilies

I had fun in the neighborhood today. First I went over the Farmer's Market at Union Square. Still crowded due to the construction, but you know that. I got peonies, roses and arugula.

Picking out peonies at Durr's.


Strawberries and phlox.


Containers of allium.


The Farmer's Market with the city beyond.


Then I went over the the Chelsea Piers for my yoga class with the fantastic teacher Joan Klynn. After yoga I lay for a few minutes on the sundeck, one of the greatest spots in Manhattan, perched out over the Hudson River.


I stopped in the cool store Jeffrey on 14th Steet in the Meatpacking District. I'm happy to report that it was very busy, very lively, lots of people in there. Jeffrey is fun because the merchandise is very chic, and the shoppers are very chic too -- glamorous women trying on towering high heels, store as theater. The store is not huge and everything in it is great and well-edited -- lots of Beautiful Things, including from Prada a woman's black cotton blouse, its collar embellished with rhinestones, jewels, and matte silver discs. If you visit New York, don't miss the store. Jeffrey Kalinsky knows what he's doing.

They had the Dries Van Noten shoes that I wrote about last July. You know I am a Dries Van Noten fan, and I love these shoes which are a combination of wing tip plus monk strap. But they were $775. With tax, $840 shoes. Oy.


Then I stopped by the Jane Street Sale, the most charming yard sale in New York.


We used to sell stuff at it when we lived on Jane Street, and I always find some treasures there. Today I got a little jade tree, $7. I reminds me of 611 because my great aunt Milly brought back Asian objects from the Phillipines, and when I see something that reminds me of 611, I grab it. The woman selling it said it probably used to have a wooden base. She said, "You can put it in a little pot with stones." I said, "I think I'll put it in a little vase." She said, "You have more class than I do."

A World Premier

Our apartment and garden on Jane Street

Three years ago when we moved out of the apartment we'd lived in for fifteen years on Jane Street in the Village, our young friend Josh who is a filmmaker followed us around with his camera filming the proceedings including a neighborhood going away party and a street sale where we unloaded a lot of possessions. Last Tuesday night he showed us the finished work, an 18 minute movie about our move on a dvd. Josh did a great job interviewing us and our neighbors and capturing the moment. It was quite a thing for us to watch, and it brought back the whole experience.

When I met Ted, he lived on Jane Street and was already part of quite an extraordinary group of neighbors who were close friends. I’ve never seen anything like it in New York; these neighbors had parties, took trips, went through life’s ups and downs together. It was largely centered around a gay couple, Gerard Mutsaers and Richard Chandler, now both deceased. After a while I became part of the group too. In fact, we took a trip together in October to Amsterdam to visit Gerard’s sister Ton.

Ted and I moved together into one apartment on Jane Street, and then into the one which we left three years ago. It was an amazing apartment in an 1847 brownstone house with two floors plus a basement and a garden in the back. It had two non-working marble fireplaces, wood floors, and on the parlor floor extremely high ceilings with original plaster decoration and floor-to-ceiling windows. We loved the quiet, verdant garden. In the summertime we slept with the back door to the garden open and it was like we lived in the country. It was an amazing place and we loved it dearly for fifteen years.

Then abruptly and with no warning at the height of the West Village real estate feeding frenzy the owners who lived in California decided to sell the brownstone house and gave us four months to move. It was challenging, not only to find a new apartment but to leave our neighbors who really were like family.

And Josh made a film about it.

We viewed it on Tuesday, and on Thursday there was a party on Jane Street, and I tucked the dvd into my messenger bag. This is classic Jane Street: though Richard Chandler died four years ago, each year we get together to celebrate his May birthday. This year Gerard’s sister Ton came for the party from Amsterdam and his nephew Matthijs flew in from Minneapolis. We all met in the garden apartment where Richard and Gerard lived, now the most charming B and B in New York.

After dinner I said, “We have a movie and some of you are in it.”

We all trundled up to the B and B’s parlor floor where the dvd player purred. We turned down the lights and I popped it in. It was such a pleasure to watch the film again in the dark surrounded by our great, great friends. They loved it. When it was over since I had invited everyone upstairs I thought I should dismiss everyone back downstairs but I didn’t say anything. And what happened was people started telling stories about the old days, way before I arrived on the scene. In the glow of the blue tv screen light there were stories about first meeting each other, Christmas pageants in the street and birthday parties with bagpipe players. It was spontaneous, magical, priceless -- a New York moment to remember forever.
I’ve said this before (I say it in the movie!) – thanks to Ted for bringing me to Jane Street. And thanks to Josh for the gift of the movie.

Here is short clip. I’m not looking very happy, with my knee in a bandage from a meniscus tear, but then moving is never the most attractive moment, is it?



The good ending to the story is we found a nice apartment on 15th Street.
Josh is going to try to place this movie somewhere like Logo; any thoughts?

My Brother's New Book

Now on sale at Barnes & Noble

I'm reading my brother Eric's new book and am enjoying it so much. As I hold it in my hands, all 280 pages, I can't believe he wrote it. But this is Eric's second book; his first, Lapdogs, How the Press Rolled Over for Bush was published in 2006, so I should be accustomed. You can watch Eric on CNN here.

His latest book is titled Bloggers on the Bus in a take-off on the seminal book about political journalists by Timothy Crouse called The Boys on the Bus. Eric's book is about how liberal bloggers affected and shaped the 2008 presidential election. It's published by Free Press, and division of Simon & Schuster, and you can buy it here, or at your local Barnes & Noble, as I did. TD designed the book cover -- didn't he do a good job?

What I find so interesting about it, and I think my blogging friends would too, is that it's the first account I've read of what it feels like to be a blogger. Eric writes about bloggers who started doing it because they wanted to say something, and then get fairly obsessed with it. They blog outside of their jobs, at home, into the wee hours, happy that they have found on outlet for their views and passions. And Eric is right, you read very little about blogging in the press, I guess because the press is afraid of the rising competition. Anyone interested in the changing landscape of the media would like this book.

The bloggers that Eric writes about are trying to use the internet to make a difference, make the world better or more beautiful in their own way. I certainly think that applies to my blogging friends who focus on style and art. As one blogger in Eric's book says, "Am I going to use this for good, or evil?"

A Profusion of Flowers

Peonies at the Farmer's Market

The roses that I got on Friday have opened up gloriously.


At a street fair on Sixth Avenue, TD bought two orchids, a pink one


and a darker red one which looks to me like 611.

He got some peonies at the Farmer's Market.




For the container garden outside, we picked up some impatiens, and TD put them in the windowsill in the hall until we plant them tomorrow.


I love having a lot of flowers around; I feel like I'm in an Edwardian greenhouse, I feel like I'm in an Edith Wharton novel.