DAHLINGS -
There are so many books on fashion out there. Many of them are disposable "How To Wear Party Clothes" or "Dress For Nothing: Dumpster Diving Divas". However, there are chances to buy true one-of-a-kind classics. Case in point:
Top New York antiques dealer David Duncan is launching a sale of more than 250 exquisite books from his private collection on One Kings Lane (http://www.onekingslane.com/), the upscale online sales site, which will run from Saturday, June 4 to Tuesday, June 7. The sale will include many rare fashion titles -- all at discounted prices.
Among the titles being offered are:
"Christian Lacroix: Pêle-Mêle" By Christian Lacroix in collaboration with Patrick Mauriès, 1992. First edition: in French. Signed by Lacroix to the late Harper's Bazaar editor Liz Tilberis. Excellent condition. Hardcover and with dust jacket. Original price $300.00. Sale price $215.00.
"Valentino" By Trent' Anni Di Magia, 1990. First edition, in Italian. Signed by Valentino to the late Harper's Bazaar editor Liz Tilberis. Very good condition. Hardcover and with dust jacket. Original price $250.00. Sale price $175.00.
"The Sixties: A Decade in Vogue" By Nicholas Drake, 1988. Excellent condition. Original price $133.00. Sale price $95.00
"Azzedine Alaïa" published by Steidl. Limited Edition, 1998. Excellent condition. Hardcover and with dust jacket. With specially designed hard slip case. Original price $2,300.00, sale price $1,600.00.
"The Rudi Gernreich Book" By Peggy Moffitt and William Claxton, 1991. Second edition, published by TASCHEN, 1999. Hardcover and with dust jacket.
Original price $200.00, sale price $139.00
"Poiret" by Yvonne Deslandres with Dorothee Lalanne, 1986. Excellent condition. First edition, hardcover and with dust jacket.
Original price $580.00, sale price $435.00
And, darling readers, I do know you'll snap these up! I have my eye on 'Valentino'.
Ciao,
Elisa
Showing posts with label Christian Lacroix. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christian Lacroix. Show all posts
Friday, June 3, 2011
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Christian Dior Haute Couture Fall 2010
DAHLINGS -
Mes chers lecteurs, je suis envahi de joie à la nouvelle collection Dior! Ci-joint le sublime (et un peu du ridicule) de la collection de John Galliano.
Oh. My. I think you get my drift. John Galliano's collection for Dior was sublime, although now and again it got a trifle...er...ridiculous. When I espied the wrapped cellophane on the models' heads, all I could think was "hot, sweaty." Perhaps because it has been 1,000 degrees F here in New York, where I am trapped until they fix the sewage problems at my fabulous (featured in Architectural Digest) oceanfront mansion in the Hamptons. It takes work to be fabulous in this heat!
But back to Dior. Galliano's inspiration was Dior's "tulip line" in the early 1950s. One of the great tragedies of my collecting life was to come upon a three-piece Dior tulip dress made out of silk tissue linen in yellow, which had been nearly hacked to death by some misguided maniac--the tulle petticoat ripped out, the silk underdress neckline cut low with gardening shears...oh, the humanity!
IN ANY EVENT (too many mojitos tonight to cool off, one thinks), the lines of the dresses were, as I said, sublime. Many were as fresh, floating and delicate as newly-cut flowers.
Except for some curious frocks that appear to be made out of dyed toilet paper. Would the material stick to your shoes if it came off?
And this silhouette makes me think: Lacroix on top. Foghorn Leghorn on the bottom.
But I want these. NOW. Such exquisite dressmaking, such high style, such drama! What else would one expect from Dior?
(photos courtesy of wireimage.net)
What say you, mes cher lecteurs? Yay or nay?
And I PROMISE to finish writing up Full Figured Fashion Week.
Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog
Mes chers lecteurs, je suis envahi de joie à la nouvelle collection Dior! Ci-joint le sublime (et un peu du ridicule) de la collection de John Galliano.
Oh. My. I think you get my drift. John Galliano's collection for Dior was sublime, although now and again it got a trifle...er...ridiculous. When I espied the wrapped cellophane on the models' heads, all I could think was "hot, sweaty." Perhaps because it has been 1,000 degrees F here in New York, where I am trapped until they fix the sewage problems at my fabulous (featured in Architectural Digest) oceanfront mansion in the Hamptons. It takes work to be fabulous in this heat!
But back to Dior. Galliano's inspiration was Dior's "tulip line" in the early 1950s. One of the great tragedies of my collecting life was to come upon a three-piece Dior tulip dress made out of silk tissue linen in yellow, which had been nearly hacked to death by some misguided maniac--the tulle petticoat ripped out, the silk underdress neckline cut low with gardening shears...oh, the humanity!
IN ANY EVENT (too many mojitos tonight to cool off, one thinks), the lines of the dresses were, as I said, sublime. Many were as fresh, floating and delicate as newly-cut flowers.
Except for some curious frocks that appear to be made out of dyed toilet paper. Would the material stick to your shoes if it came off?
And this silhouette makes me think: Lacroix on top. Foghorn Leghorn on the bottom.
But I want these. NOW. Such exquisite dressmaking, such high style, such drama! What else would one expect from Dior?
(photos courtesy of wireimage.net)What say you, mes cher lecteurs? Yay or nay?
And I PROMISE to finish writing up Full Figured Fashion Week.
Seriously. Soon.
Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog
Monday, February 26, 2007
The End of Oscar Night, and Off To Party!
(Note - I am transcribing this from Miss DeCarlo's notes. It's late and I want to go home, but if this isn't fresh and crisp and published tomorrow, I will be put through the tortures of the damned. The Devil doesn't wear Prada, she wears wisps of chiffon. You didn't hear it from me.)
Oh, dear, that naughty Chris Noth! My gown is all mussed, my glorious blonde hair flattened, but it was worth it! I snap my fingers at George Clooney! He doesn't know what he's missing.
Speaking of missing, we seem to have missed quite a few categories, since they're just finishing up the Dead People segment. Oh, well, I don't think anyone important died or I would have heard of it. Chris, dahling, would you be a dear boy and get me another mojito? Thank you!
Hmmmm..Helen Mirren won Best Actress. That scrumptious Christian Lacroix dress...the woman is agelessly hot. Lovely breasts. Oh, dear, I sound like Oprah Winfrey.
Look at that ridiculous getup she wore to the Oscars. Not quite in the Sally Kirkland league, but heading in that general direction.
Oh, my, Forrest Whittaker won Best Actor. Everybody knew he would, but poor Peter O' Toole. He was so wonderful in "Venus", if rather hard to look at in close-up. And what is with Mr. Whittaker's eye? For all of his career I have been wondering when he is going to have that strange eyelid of his fixed. But perhaps it's like that huge mole on that Creole singer's forehead...it has mystical powers or some such.
Darling Marty Scorsese! He is such a divine man, so small and yet so wonderfully talented. I grip Chris's hand hard and squeeze, for I am feeling quite happy and a bit tipsy. I should have eaten something besides one piece of rumaki, but this dress is very tight and Oscar (the designer, not the statue) didn't have time to let it out.
And now "The Departed" won. My God, is that actually Diane Keaton? In that lovely black ensemble? Someone must have mugged her backstage and forcibly changed her clothes, she never looks decent on awards shows. My, what a tiny waist! It almost makes up for having to look at Jack Nicholson and his huge cueball head.
The only nominee I saw was "Little Miss Sunshine," which I adored, although between you and moi, Eddie Murphy should have gotten Best Supporting Actor. The Norbit curse and all that, you know.
Chris is beckoning that it is time to move on to the next shindig...Good night, dahlings!
Oh, dear, that naughty Chris Noth! My gown is all mussed, my glorious blonde hair flattened, but it was worth it! I snap my fingers at George Clooney! He doesn't know what he's missing.
Speaking of missing, we seem to have missed quite a few categories, since they're just finishing up the Dead People segment. Oh, well, I don't think anyone important died or I would have heard of it. Chris, dahling, would you be a dear boy and get me another mojito? Thank you!
Hmmmm..Helen Mirren won Best Actress. That scrumptious Christian Lacroix dress...the woman is agelessly hot. Lovely breasts. Oh, dear, I sound like Oprah Winfrey.
Look at that ridiculous getup she wore to the Oscars. Not quite in the Sally Kirkland league, but heading in that general direction.
Oh, my, Forrest Whittaker won Best Actor. Everybody knew he would, but poor Peter O' Toole. He was so wonderful in "Venus", if rather hard to look at in close-up. And what is with Mr. Whittaker's eye? For all of his career I have been wondering when he is going to have that strange eyelid of his fixed. But perhaps it's like that huge mole on that Creole singer's forehead...it has mystical powers or some such.
Darling Marty Scorsese! He is such a divine man, so small and yet so wonderfully talented. I grip Chris's hand hard and squeeze, for I am feeling quite happy and a bit tipsy. I should have eaten something besides one piece of rumaki, but this dress is very tight and Oscar (the designer, not the statue) didn't have time to let it out.
And now "The Departed" won. My God, is that actually Diane Keaton? In that lovely black ensemble? Someone must have mugged her backstage and forcibly changed her clothes, she never looks decent on awards shows. My, what a tiny waist! It almost makes up for having to look at Jack Nicholson and his huge cueball head.
The only nominee I saw was "Little Miss Sunshine," which I adored, although between you and moi, Eddie Murphy should have gotten Best Supporting Actor. The Norbit curse and all that, you know.
Chris is beckoning that it is time to move on to the next shindig...Good night, dahlings!
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