Tim Groen: Selima Salaun, New York, 2010

Selima Salaun
Founder / Designer, Selima Optique

“Look how amazing!” Selima says in her delicious French accent, as she shows me a complimentary write-up about herself in a recent Luxottica brochure. Judging by how happy she is about the kind words in a corporate booklet, you’d never guess that this is the seasoned eyewear designer who receives more editorial than anyone can keep up with, who is the owner of multiple boutiques in New York and a shop in Paris, as well as a thriving business in Japan. And with whom just about every other fashion designer wants to collaborate. From Erin Fetherston to J. Crew, from Tim Hamilton to Proenza Schoeller, from Catherine Malandrino to Jack Spade, Adam Kimmel, Duckie Brown, and Simon Spurr. The list goes on and on; at some point or other, designers make Selima Optique frames part of the presentation, if not part of their actual collection.
“People see that I have a passion,” Selima says to explain why so many fashion people—and such a variety of them—consistently and repeatedly turn to her. “They see that I believe in everything I do, and that is key.”

Showing me a fraction of her archive, Selima opens up drawer after drawer of amazing vintage frames, most of them with the little manufacturer’s sticker still on the lens. I see Diors (including the seriously giant ones my grandmother always wore, which covered about 65% of her face), Dunhills, Ray Bans, various experimental one-offs, weird Muglers, and deadstock you’d be hard pressed to find on a flea market. “One of the largest archives around,” Selima says about her rows of neat white cabinets. It’s a lot to take in, and while I’m trying to do just that, my eye is already caught by something else: insanely ruffled umbrellas in a variety of colors. “Oh, aren’t those great?” she asks, showing me the color sample booklet with what seems like 100 colorways. A cross between a Technicolor musical-slash-Crazy Horse revue prop and a gypsy-skirt, Selima’s ruffled umbrellas are pretty genius. “Out of thousands, I only have these five left,” Selima says, opening one up so I can admire its full frilliness. “And people said I was completely crazy for making umbrellas inspired by the beach scene in Juliet of the Spirits!”

Regarded as a cult designer ever since she launched her first collection in the early mid-nineties, Selima has confidently never taken the super-corporate route. Her shops couldn’t feel any less formulaic; the designer sees each location as an opportunity to introduce something new her—loyal—clientele. Chocolate, hats, jewelry, vintage clothing, lingerie and obviously, ruffled umbrellas…anything goes, as long as Selima is feeling it.

TG: Is mixing up your merch a retail strategy, or is there something more personal behind it?

SS: Ha! Strategically I should only be selling glasses (laughs). But I’ve always loved accessories in general, and especially when there’s utilitarian aspect to them. I love that glasses help you see or protect your eyes, umbrellas shield you from the rain, and hats protect your hair. I’ve always loved hats and worn hats, so adding them to my line is really about my personal passion for them.

TG: What are you passionate about now? Anything in particular that’s inspiring you?

SS: Everything inspires me. Walking down the street. Traveling, which I do a lot. People I meet. Books—I always read three or four books at once. I check all the magazines. But I’m actually not really inspired by current magazines; like yourself, I love old magazines. I love L’oeil! I still can’t believe you found those old issues on the street! >click here to see what Selima is talking about<. When I first discovered L’oeil I bought tons of them, and I still look at them.
Old movies inspire me, actually last night I watched 2007’s Savage Grace, in which Julienne Moore–who’s gorgeous—wears glasses all the time. It’s a very disturbing but visually beautiful movie, you should totally see it.
But my major inspriration is, not surprisingly, my own collection of vintage eyewear.

TG: So with inspiration flowing constantly, I guess you’re not once of those designers who lock themselves up for a week to tear up magazines and make moodboards?

SS: I do that too, of course. But inspiration is strange; it can come out of nothing. Like the movie I watched yesterday, made me think about colors.

TG: Over the last couple of years it seems that your name is attached to all these masculine lines, while I used to think of you as more of a women’s designer. Are you doing more men’s stuff now?

SS: Yes, in the past six years the focus has shifted to include men, who, by the way, turn out to be extremely brand-loyal once they notice the quality.
It’s funny, we’ve been designing glasses for a long time now, and we were always thinking about women, so until I had male customers, I had no idea that men give such great feedback. I feel extremely lucky to be able to listen to these guys, these men of taste, like Mario Sorrenti or Mickey Drexler. They will say, ‘you know Selima, I love this style, but can you make this part a little thinner?’ or ‘Can you do this in navy blue and chocolate?’
Their input is so valuable to my collection that they end up feeling more like mentors than like clients.

TG: It almost sounds like your relationships with your clients spark these little mini collaborations. And you seem to really enjoy working that way. On that note, tell me more about what you’ve been doing with Matt Singer.

SS: I adore Matt! We both love to read, and we have very similar tastes, so that colors what we do together. We just collaborated for The Thing Quarterly. It was limited edition pair of frames with a Jonathan Lethem quote on the arms, which launched at Printed Matter.
Those frames were sent to the subscribers of The Thing first, and now we sell them through Matt’s site and at my locations.
The next project we’re doing will benefit the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co. It’s nothing that really makes money, but it gives us a chance to make another beautiful product; we’re making these Clark Kent frames for kids, which will retail very inexpensively. And of course it benefits a great charity! >link<

TG: Now, all of those frames you design specifically for other fashion designers—like those beautiful Adam Kimmel sunglasses you did—do they make it into your collection?
In other words, are they styling props, or can we actually get our hands on them?

SS: Absolutely you can get them! Adam’s glasses, for example, are sold through his retailers, like 10 Corso Como, Colette, Bergdorf Goodman, and seven or eight more. And in addition I sell them through my stores. So whatever I do, you will be able to actually buy.

TG: While we’re on the subject of collabs: will we see any “Selima for Uniqlo/Gap/Target” type collection in the future?

Many years ago I was approached by H&M, but I had to say no. It was just too soon, and I wasn’t ready. I only want to do something when I’m sure I’m delivering high quality.
I started producing my own line in 1996, and the small French atelier I worked with was used to making custom frames for Ari Onassis, Yves Saint Laurent, you know, the crème de la crème. And now, all these years later, I don’t want to dumb down the quality, just because it’s a big international order. Like I said, it needs to be good.

TG: But if the phone rings now, you’ll be ready?

SS: Oh, now I’m super-ready. On all levels. Business wise, sexually, you name it (laughs). Yes, I’m ready!

Links:
Selima Optique
Matt Singer

Tim Groen: Felix Burrichter, New York, 2010

Felix Burrichter
Editor / Creative Director, PIN-UP Magazine

“The aim was very simple and almost banal,” Felix answers when I ask what he had in mind when he founded PIN-UP, of which he is the editor and creative director. “I wanted to bring some of the ephemeral qualities, the playfulness of fashion editorial to an architecture publication, and make it entertaining.”

Felix, who was trained as an architect, has always been obsessed with fashion magazines, which is why, when he was still a student, he would intern at a fashion magazine every summer (Numéro, Fantastic Man). “At the time these internships didn’t make any sense, not even to me,” he says, looking back on feeling somewhat torn between two worlds that are traditionally presented in almost opposite ways. “But once I graduated, and was working as an architect, this idea started crystallizing that I wanted to create an architecture magazine that actually wasn’t boring and dry.”

And so the first issue of PIN-UP was created, without a business plan, but with a very clear idea of what the magazine should, and should not be: Lose the heavy-handedness that’s so prevalent in architecture media, and bring on a dose of fashion sprit, in which, as Felix puts it, “there’s no such thing as inappropriate. If anything, inappropriateness is almost desirable.”

Flash-forward about three years, to issue number seven, and all of Felix’ ideas about his magazine for architectural entertainment are still firmly in place. The main change Felix can identify is that PIN-UP is increasingly about design. “Design lies somewhere between architecture and fashion”, he explains, “in terms of shelf life and attitude.” But the reader who has followed the magazine from issue one, may have noticed that contemporary art is featured more and more. Felix acknowledges this: “From design it’s an easy step to contemporary art, and I never thought that that would happen. I was always interested in art, but felt like I didn’t know very much about it.”
Art and architecture are a perfect match, argues Felix, who is excited about the room for experimentation where the two intersect.
“It doesn’t mean that PIN–UP will eventually become an art magazine, but it’s yet another subject that allows for a certain freedom in relation to architecture, and freedom is what PIN–UP is all about.”

I’m personally mildly obsessed with those sections in magazines that ask a person for their favorite things, or better yet, for the “things that they can’t live without,” as ELLE Decor words it. Usually the answers sound pretentious, or embarrassing, or both. And they often pander to the advertiser you see three pages later. Since I have no advertisers to pander to, I asked Felix to list the ten things he can live without (but may decide to keep anyway):

1. Subway Tiles:
McNally did them first, and now, like taxidermy, they’ve slowly crept up all over New York restaurants, presumably to create that slightly rustic edgy charm of yore. I prefer a nice square white ceramic tile any day (like a >Bernd Trasberger< installation)!

2. Plastic Garden Chairs:
I actually don’t mind them so much, the only reason I’m listing it is because it’s part of one of my favorite quotes. A reporter once asked Catherine Deneuve during the Berlin Biennale what she thought was the biggest horror in the world. After some thought that was her answer.

3. Cinnamon and Celery:
There is no dish in the world I can think of that benefits from adding either of those ingredients. The worst to me is cinnamon on a cappuccino, or celery dipped into a jar of peanut butter.

4. Shades/curtains:
I find pitch-black rooms disturbing. Not only do I not mind being woken by the morning sun, but waking up and not being able to see the sky seriously freaks me out. Nonetheless I recently bought shades for my apartment. They’re classic photo studio black vinyl shades intended to shield me from potentially nosy neighbors. (And I have to admit: I really like them and have them down a lot.)

5. Sunscreen:
I wish I didn’t need it, but unfortunately I do. The same goes for glasses, actually.

6. AOL Time Warner Center & Astor Place Tower:
Only two of many examples of how architecture can really destroy New York City’s cityscape and character (and that’s from someone who didn’t even move here until 2003).

7. 43 pairs of shoes (not including sandals or flip flops):
I really don’t need them all, but have very hard time letting go.

8. Ed Hardy by Christian Audigier.

9. Noguchi coffee tables, black Barcelona chairs, and Castiglione’s Arco lamp:
By themselves they’re all amazing design pieces, but combined they remind me too much of the default designer pieces one can find in any low-ceilinged, over-priced New York condo building sample apartment.

10. Dust.

Links:
PIN-UP Magazine

Tim Groen: Felix Burrichter, New York, 2010

Tim Groen: Aric Chen, New York, 2010

Aric Chen
Journalist / Design Critic

“What’s good about moving to Beijing for me is that the shopping’s not great,” jokes Aric Chen, who recently relocated from New York to China ‘indefinitely’—which, he hastens to point out, is not the same as ‘permanently’.

After having served as the 2008 and 2009 Creative Director of 100% Design Shanghai—a co-directorship shared with Tobias Wong, the New York-based artist/designer—Aric felt that a change in perspective would do him good. Beijing had been one of the Asian cities he had visited several times. “Some cities you immediately get, but Beijing was not like that for me,” he says to explain his city of choice. “I could feel that I liked it a lot, but that the only way to really get to know it required living there”.
Beijing, with its “intense moments of beauty, surrounded by vast swaths of grittiness,” reminds Aric of Berlin, another one of those cities that requires visitors to dig a little deeper.

Taking full advantage of his new location, his frequent contributions to the New York Times lately have been about such China-centric topics as hip hotels in Beijing, gay life in Shanghai (‘Panda Bears’!), and a variety of other local finger-on-the-pulse topics.
”It’s interesting, because living in New York, you get used to the idea that our narrative is everyone’s narrative. But now that I’m in China, I’m starting to see how the world is increasingly about multiple narratives. For example, there was no recession there.”

A recent writing assignment gave Aric the chance to talk to Ole Scheeren—the architect working on a number of new projects throughout Asia, including the CCTV tower in Beijing, under Rem Koolhaas’ OMA umbrella—who, Aric says, is very interested in a new model, in which Beijing becomes a center from which new ideas might radiate. And Aric agrees with the architect that it makes sense to think of Beijing as a cultural hub, “in a more poly-nuclear situation.”

Obviously one of these alternative narratives Aric mentions is China’s recent-ish ascendance in the contemporary art world; just think of the media attention for artists like Yue Minjun, Ai Weiwei and Zhang Huan. So could ‘design’ be China’s next Big Thing? Aric believes so. “People are talking about design like they were talking about contemporary art seven, eight years ago.”
Which is why the city of Beijing has approached Aric with the request to help them develop a Design Week of their own. This, he predicts, will be very interesting; “There are values in design and architecture which are pretty universal, but because Chinese culture has such strong roots of its own, I have to learn how to evaluate things on their own terms, and from different angles.”

“This is a city where everything happens behind closed doors; it’s a city of walls, and behind each wall you’ll find more walls,” says Aric, so it only makes sense to learn that he lives and works out of a courtyard house he rents on one of Beijing’s old hutongs, or alleyways, near the Lama Temple. He warns me though, not to picture anything too romantic. “When I say ‘courtyard in a hutong’, people expect to find me in some kind of Raise The Red Lantern setting”. The reality, he says, is a little different. “It was decorated by the landlady. So rather than resembling a concubine’s quarters,” Aric laughs , “The house looks like someone’s grandmother’s bedroom.”

In his downtime, Aric likes to stroll along the moat of the Forbidden City—which he fears may sound touristy and quaint—and is generally enjoying the sensation of discovery and surprise that comes with cross-continental relocation.
“I left New York partially to get away from hipness, the latest shops and restaurants, away from nightlife,” he says when we talk about the fact that he’s returning to Beijing in a week, via Milan, and he continues, “I really enjoy the distance, but at the same time I miss all of those things a lot.”
Paradoxically, it is the real New Yorker in him that brought Aric to Beijing, he philosophizes: “It’s that hunger for new things, and for new challenges.”

Links:
>Click here for a beautiful 2008 piece Aric wrote for the New York Times, about visiting China with his mother.<

Tim Groen: Keni Valenti, New York, 2010.

Keni Valenti of Retro-Couture

Keni Valenti has no need for yet another “Marilyn” dress. Unless, of course, it’s asymmetrical and “has draping on this hip, and darts on that shoulder, or something.”
Retro-Couture, Keni Valenti’s astounding and overwhelming archive of vintage (mostly women’s) fashion, which he founded in 1995, needs only truly interesting cuts to complement the 10.000 or so pieces already stored.

While one memorable $50 purchase turned out to be a rare, wool suit from one of a few collections a young Yves Saint Laurent designed for Dior*, Keni is not acquiring new pieces with the narrow focus of an antiquarian.
“Right now I’m more interested in a remarkable detail than in amazing provenance,” says Keni, to explain his Marilyn-dress comment, and adds that he is “definitely not a dealer”. With a substantial fashion background—he ran his own label for 13 years—and with years of experience putting “inspiration” presentations together for the design teams of major houses (sorry, not naming names!), Keni has become an invaluable resource for a host of designers. Simultaneously fulfilling the roles of helpful librarian—you know, the kind that can recommend a book you’ll love and knows which shelf its on—, buyer and consultant. And celebrity stylists as well have a special spot on their speed dial for Keni. Movie stars and other celebs with a commitment to a designer (in less commercial times they used to call this being a muse, now it’s called “doing the campaign”) are contractually obligated to wear something current. But, says Keni with a smile, “they can wear a dead designer all they want.”

Because his clients count on Keni to personally help them, he is virtually rendered a one-man show, “although I prefer to call myself an Extravaganza,” he laughs. This leaves him little time to pay too much attention to current collections, but occasionally he visits stores to see what’s out there. Usually going through the racks leads him to think, “Aha, that’s where that ruffle went”, or “That’s what they did with that neckline!”
Most successful dress designers are not looking to reinvent the wheel, nor do they need to. As Keni explains it: “There’s a limit to what you can do; we’re dealing with the human body, and pretty much every silhouette has been explored at some point in time.”
And this must be a comforting though for the man who can, at a price, pull you an example of every possible pleat, cuff, bodice or flounce.
“There will always be a need to reference something. If it’s not the fabrics, its the prints, or the buttons, or the shoe, or the bag. I think a good archive just goes on forever.”

*Later, the $50 Saint Laurent-designed Dior suit auctioned for $ 44,125. at Christies—not too shabby!

Tim Groen: Brad Fisher, New York, 2009.

Tim Groen: Brad Fisher, New York, 2009.

Not everything you work on for a magazine gets published (as many of you know). My interview with Brad Fisher for Fantastic Man Magazine never made it to print (but you can find my Jonathan Adler interview here, on Jonathan’s site). The photoshoot I conceived to accompany the interview, with Brad as a Tom Selleck-y, late 70’s, “Sexy Professor”, was published, and Brad looked great in it. I had asked Brad to grow his moustache for the shoot.

I’m posting a short version of my interview, but keep in mind that this was in 2007, and of course things have changed; Brad’s move to NY is now ancient history, and he feels completely settled in. What hasn’t changed is the frequency of the modeling gigs (Brad is with Ford Models) that pull him away from the canvases he works on (see Brad’s work here). Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve seen his face in J. Crew, Polo or Versace campaigns, or in one of many international editorials.

Anyway, here’s a drastically edited version of my 2007 interview with Brad.

BRAD FISHER: LIVIN’ HIS DREAM—IN WRINKLED PANTS

By Tim Groen

Brad Fisher is a self-described ‘nice Jewish boy from Southern California’. He grew up near the beach, but ever since Jaws, he has been terrified of the ocean.

The first time Brad showed his art was at an underground gallery, an experience he reflects upon as “a small scale situation, but the biggest thrill of my life in LA, it felt exactly right”. Consequently he decided to focus more on his art than on modeling/acting, and kept going at it. “I didn’t want to be in my mid-fifties to find myself saying: What if? What if?”
A couple of years later his work started adorning the walls of (don’t forget, this is in Hollywood after all) Renee Zellweger, Drew Barrymore, Bruce Weber and the late author Julia Philips.
Despite experiencing a certain degree of success, Los Angeles began to feel like a better idea looking in from the outside. “And it wasn’t very hard to let it all go ‘cause I was always sort of on the fringe anyway.” So, bags were packed and the move was made.

New York was not a foreign place to Brad, “I grew up coming here, visiting my much older, really smart, liberal, Jewish Upper West Side relatives. And it was always fantastic to be around them, and to be dragged around by my aunt in her high heels, visiting all these weird artists that she knew.”

His first year in town Brad immersed himself in the art world. He went to every gallery, museum, and art opening, to learn just what the deal is. His research made him feel confident, and he found himself looking at galleries thinking, “My stuff could hang here”. As an artist you have to have a bit of a mad ego, he says, because without that “it’s going to go nowhere, and you’re just going to get crushed. About nothing in my life, do I have as much confidence as I do about my work.”

Living the artist’s life can be bit of a financial struggle, he admits, but the payoff is that he gets to participate in a world more real than the one he left behind. “The New York art scene is not dissimilar to Hollywood; they like their stars and the money, and there’s a definite hierarchy amongst the galleries”. It reminds him of the big talent agencies in LA, but he points out one major difference, “New York actually loves talent. They like an interesting package as much as the next one, however, in New York, a one-eyed, limping Polish immigrant can make it big, if he has a talent for something.

Brad philosophizes that we are in the middle of a period of generally shallow ideas, and compares the situation to the 1950’s. “When everything was sugar-coated, and glossy and colorful, look what happened; the sixties hit us like a truck.”
His train of thought leads to talking about how men’s styles of earlier decades had a certain, sexy je ne sais quoi. “I was up late the other day and saw “love Story” again with Ryan O’Neal,” he says, “and I was blown away by the styling. The cars, the aviator sunglasses, the moustaches and sideburns, the collegiate look, the whole thing. No matter what they did in the seventies, it always ended up looking really hot, like great porn almost. The clothes were beautiful, but there’s always something really sexy and dirty about it.”
Movie styling can’t pull that off now, says Brad, and he partially blames the stars. “Current actors pale in comparison. I mean, Tom Cruise, puh-leaze.”

His own casual style is not nearly as coordinated as the leading men he admires, “Being a native Californian, I can’t help it, but my favorite things to wear are jeans, a t-shirt and flip-flops, and maybe a baseball hat—done, love it,” he says almost apologetically. However, since his transition to New York, with its colder climates (“I still love how the seasons here actually change”), he has started appreciating finer outerwear, suits even. “The weather here”, he explains, “got me into pea coats, and tailored three-quarter length overcoats. In LA, where you can show up anywhere in flip-flops, he never even owned a suit. Now Brad owns three Dries van Nooten suits. “I love Dries, his stuff’s perfectly timeless.” Many other designers don’t cater to his body type, Brad laments, “Prada, Dior or Gucci, I can’t even fit into it. I don’t know why they make suits for fifteen year-old boy sizes, but that’s why my Drieses come out of the closet every fall.”
Recently he acquired his first bespoke Tuxedo (“Ralph Lauren, absolutely!”). But there’s something about him he can’t shake, it’s why, in his LA acting days, he was always sent to castings for the ‘cute-but-scruffy-guy’ roles. “Even wearing a tuxedo I look really unkempt. No matter what I wear, shirts come untucked and pants get wrinkled, and everything dishevels. But I guess that’s my style: I’m clean, but I’m messy. I’m a classic American male,” he laughs, “Livin’ my dream. In wrinkled pants.”

Tim Groen: Gaby Basora, New York, 2009.

Gaby Basora of Tucker

In 2005, Gaby made a button-front blouse with wide three quarter length sleeves. More for herself then anything else, but whenever she wore it out, everybody wanted it. Now, just a couple of years later, that single blouse has become a signature piece in a line of over 18 pieces, called “Tucker”. Today Tucker by Gaby Basora sells from major doors all over the world including Barneys New York, Fred Segal, Bloomingdale’s, Harvey Nichols and Liberty. Tucker is worn by every young fashion editor and by the likes of Drew Barrymore, Julia Roberts, Jessica Biel, Liv Tyler and so on. Needless to say, Gaby is not a stylist anymore.

Gaby is a close friend of my sister’s, and the two of them can look so much alike, it’s almost scary.

Because she is a busy lady, and a mother of three, I’m not going to bother Gaby for an interview. Instead, I asked her to answer some actual Beauty Pageant Questions I found online:

Q: If you could only bring one thing on a desert island with you, what would it be and why?
A: I would bring a hot air balloon, with all three of my boys and my hubby in it. I am a true Sagittarius.

Q: If women were to rule the world by 2050, how different would the world be?
A: I was under the assumption that we ruled already. But no matter what, there will always be good guys and bad guys. Even if the guys are girls.

Q: What’s in your fridge?
A: Green juices, butter, fresh pasta, apples, water, jam, sausages from the greenmarket, and fresh chicken soup.

Q: If you could be either a flower or a bee, which one would you like to be?
A: Hmm…a busy bee or a gorgeous flower? A queen bee or a sweet daisy? A bee with spindly legs or a complex calla lily? It has to be the bee…got to be able to move.

Q: Is lying always wrong?
A: Yes, but sometimes it is the polite thing to do.