• Did L.A. boutique Maxfield drop Victoria Beckham's dVb in favor of Holmes & Yang? Posh's people say Maxfield hasn't ordered the line for three seasons, and the decision had nothing to do with Katie Holmes, who is Posh's friend. [P6]

• Luckily, old bandmate Mel B says she loves Posh's clothing lines. "I'm going out with Geri and Emma while I'm here — and I'll be wearing one of Victoria's dresses," the singer told a crowd in London. [Daily Mail]
• American Apparel is laying off 1,500 workers — more than 10% of its total workforce — because of immigration violations. When ICE raided its factory in downtown L.A. two months ago, 1,600 workers were found to be unauthorized to work in the U.S., and a further 200 were found to have immigration irregularities. Company founder Dov Charney released a statement saying: "Many of you have been with me for so many years, and I just cry when I think that so many people will be leaving the company. It is my belief that immigrants bring prosperity to any economy." This is the latest in a long line of bad news for the company. From being dogged with sexual harassment lawsuits, to the $5 million settlement it had to pay Woody Allen in May after using his image on billboards without authorization, to this week's reprimand from the British Advertising Standards Authority for "sexualising a child," American Apparel can't seem to keep its house in order. [LATimes]
• There are behind-the-scenes shots of Lily Allen working with Karl Lagerfeld on the new Chanel Cocoon bag campaign. [DailyMail]
• We don't doubt that Patrick Demarchelier is planning to shoot 100 top models in Fashion's Night Out t-shirts outside Bryant Park on September 9, but somehow we think someone got confused when noting that "Iman and her daughter Chanel" would be among them. [WWD]
• OMG! Modelfights on Project Runway: Models Of The Catwalk. [P6]
• If you have any interest in beautiful, softly draped leather jackets, deconstructed tee shirts, or vaguely gothic skintight pants — or if you just want to know where that ubiquitous no-closure wraparound sweater, like a high-fashion snuggie ancestor, that everyone from Alice + Olivia to Eileen Fisher has knocked off came from originally — you need to learn about Rick Owens, now. And how his aesthetic is back in a big way just now. [NYTimes]
• Speaking of which, peep Jennifer Connelly in the British InStyle in Rodarte thigh-high boots and Olivier Theyskens' gothic heel-less 8" runway shoes. [Daily Mail]
• Also big for fall, at least in men's wear: Steve McQueen. [WSJ]
  
• There's a rumor going around that Peter Som is set to become the first creative director of Tommy Hilfiger. [WWD]
• Thom Browne is launching two new lower-priced lines for Spring 2010. [WWD]
• Mark your calendars! She by Sheree, apparently some design offspring of a Real Housewife, is coming to Fashion Week. [People]
• Juergen Teller, who shoots all of Marc Jacobs' campaigns, reports that only one set of images has ever caused any particular controversy — and it's not the ones of a then-12-year-old Dakota Fanning, which even the photographer calls "very hard-core." In Fall of 2006, Jacobs chose makeup artist Dick Page and his partner, James Gibbs, to star in the campaign, and Teller shot the couple making out in the woods outside their home. There was a furor: Men's Vogue even refused to run the ads. [The Moment]
• Kenny Chesney says his new clothing line, Blue Chair Bay, is designed to reflect his life off the stage. "I would wear these clothes in Malibu, East Tennessee, where I'm from, or on my boat in St. John," the singer explained at MAGIC, the apparel trade conference that just ended in Las Vegas. Chesney's apparel partners had an airstream full of clothes and purposefully-weatherbeaten blue wicker chairs parked in their booth at the show. [WWD]
• Daisy Lowe's jewelry line with Swarovski is said to feature pieces inspired by the stars, moon, and planets. [Elle UK]
  
• Derek Lam's CEO, Jan Schottlman, denies the anonymous reports published by Page Six that the company is haemorrhaging money. [The Cut]
• Dooney & Bourke are going back to models for their campaigns after seasons of using actresses. Hayden Panettiere is getting thrown over for Maggie Rizer. [WWD]
• Georgia May Jagger, in her new denim ad: "Hudson jeans. Soft...and blue. And very tight." Descriptive! [TDB]
• Richard Chai is doing a line with Keds. Chai's sneakers, which are canvas and leather in white, grey and black, have silver zippers between the rows of eyelets. They hit stores in January of next year, and pricing information isn't yet available. [WWD]
• Someone painted an entire Spanish Colonial-style bungalow in Louis Vuitton's signature logo print. So long as Britney Spears doesn't use it as the set for her next video, we imagine these folks in Mexicali might be safe from LVMH's lawyers. [BoingBoing via hazmeelchingadofavor]

The cover hearkens back to 1991, the last September issue of Vogue we could find that had fewer than 600 pages. For comparison's sake: Last year's had 796, 2007's had a record-breaking 840. And 1996's had 700.

Do you think the advertising crunch and the precipitous decline in consumer spending might make Vogue do something a little different, a little out-there, a little untested?


Why, no!

Charlize Theron, this month's cover subject, has graced Vogue a total of four times — in October, 2000, October, 2004, October, 2007, and now again in September, 2009. In the last three instances, the South African actress was photographed by Mario Testino.


But that's not the only place in the magazine that had us rubbing our eyes with déjà vu. As other bloggers have pointed out, the Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott-shot editorial with Natalia Vodianova as Little Red Riding Hood from this September's Vogue bears a striking resemblance to...


A Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott-shot editorial with model Doutzen Kroes as Goldilocks, which was published in the August, 2007, issue of W.


The Natalia Vodianova spread for Vogue is called "Into The Woods."


The Doutzen Kroes editorial for W is also called "Into The Woods."


Both the editorials even boast creepy masked soft-toy molesters.


Grace Coddington, the fashion editor for this shoot, can sometimes be a little derivative for my tastes; in recent years, we've seen her turn The Wizard of Oz and Romeo and Juliet into editorial spreads that didn't add much to their source material. "Into The Woods" fits perfectly with that trend.


Natalia's absolutely wretched 'do in those pictures is not a fluke: this issue's full of deeply bizarre hair. You took one for the team here, Liya Kebede.


And in this shot, it's as if you can see Karlie Kloss thinking, "Really, Guido Palau? Really?"


I, for one, am getting just a little bit sick of seeing this particular photo re-made. This, David Sims' version...

...owes as much to an interpretation from last September's Vogue by Patrick Demarchelier, featuring model Catherine McNeil...


...as it does to the Richard Avedon original, with Jean Shrimpton, from the September, 1965, Harper's Bazaar.


Dodai already did an excellent LOLVogue! on the rest of David Sims' editorial. Karlie Kloss has apparently wrested the Vogue showjumping title from Caroline Trentini. The St. Louis teenager has an astonishing three editorial appearances in this issue — four if you count an Annie Leibovitz portrait of her, which runs alongside a short profile of Karlie by Sally Singer.


But what's amazing about that Leibovitz shot is just how much it looks like another portrait the legendary photographer recently took of a young starlet.


I'm referring, of course, to the photograph of Miley Cyrus that Annie Leibovitz took for the June, 2008, issue of Vanity Fair. Karlie and Miley are photographed with the same dampened hair, the same skin that's lit extremely pale, and the same red lips on a nude face. They even share a similar pose and both are shot against the same backdrop. The fact is that even though Cyrus and Kloss were roughly the same age when when they were photographed by Leibovitz — Cyrus was 15, Kloss, who only turned 17 earlier this month, would have been 16 — this photo is certain to draw less ire. That says more about our culture's parallel impossible expectations for the few young women who make it in the entertainment business than anything else: we demand that our pop stars remain forever young, and we expect our models to impersonate adult women from the time they hit 5'9".


Steven Meisel has a 16-page editorial with models Liya Kebede, Karen Elson, Coco Rocha, Sasha Pivovarova, and Viktoriya Sasonkina. It's shot in and around Manhattan's Essex House hotel and styled by Grace Coddington.


Something about the spread, though, suggests this was one of Meisel's autopilot days.


This shot, by Meisel for the February, 2009, issue of Vogue, has a different color palette than the "In The Mood" bicycle picture, but the quirky period styling, the models' poses, and the hats, all nonetheless echo it.


This shot, of Viktoriya Sasonkina, from September's Vogue is lovely.


Until you remember that Meisel shot Sasonkina for last September's Vogue Italia in virtually the same pose, and practically the same dress, in a nearly identically-themed 40s editorial.


Liya Kebede, in the September Vogue spread, looks divine.


And "In The Mood" really hits its stride when it starts playing with the murals in the background. Coco Rocha looks like she could be jumping out of that painting.


And I love those creepy hands.


But again, it's hard not to think of Meisel's old Vogue Italia story, with Sasonkina.


Probably the best editorial of the bunch in this year's slimmed-down September Vogue is Steven Klein's offering, "Take Cover."


Karlie Kloss and Caroline Trentini star as two futuristic gals about town.


They are armed and they are dangerous. And what's more, this editorial mercifully does not appear to be a direct re-shoot of anything else.

Fresh ideas: how novel.


Earlier:Harper's Bazaar: Talking About That "Recession" Thing Is Just "Really Annoying" Now
LOLVogue: I Purmd Mai Hare!

The September, 2007, Vogue, which sold 13 million copies, weighed nearly five pounds, and its 840 pages made it the single largest magazine ever published. Seven-hundred and twenty-seven of those pages were ads. When publisher Tom Florio exhorts the magazine's advertising sales team to "sell Vogue the brand like it's never been sold before," you feel it: this is what things were like when economic growth and consumer spending were lockstep in one upward trend, and magazines like Vogue could reliably put out Our Biggest Issue Ever, every year.

You feel it when Grace Coddington reports that Wintour, in killing shots from a lavish 1920s-themed spread, has "just thrown out probably $50,000 worth of work." You feel it when Wintour, having seen stills from an editorial with a color-blocking theme, orders a re-shoot, with different models, different clothes, and a different photographer. (No sum is supplied for the cost of that waste of daily rates, studio rental, and catering.)

You also feel it when Wintour is filmed with her deputy, Sally Singer, at a retailer luncheon the magazine has convened. Retailers are nervous about certain of the things they've seen on the fall runways, and they rely on Wintour as a kind of emissary to the design world; when Singer prompts her boss to share their "good news," Wintour tilts her head and reports that she has spoken to "Mrs. Prada" several times, and that she has agreed to "reinterpret" certain of her runway looks in a more wearable silk-mohair blend, instead of the wool-mohair she had shown on the catwalk. The assembled tableful of executives from Saks and Bergdorf's practically coo with appreciation.

After that decree is handed down to such a happy reception, Burt Tansky, the president and C.E.O. of Neiman Marcus, starts to ask Wintour a long question about delivery schedules. Designers, it seems, are making late and infrequent deliveries, which retailers feel cost them sales; customers want what's new right now. Tansky uses the phrase "demand outstripping supply" several times. It is a shocking moment: it's as if the incredible glut of oversupply, the $3,000 handbag bubble that rose through the market during the years of easy credit and burst last fall in a mess of steep discounting and steeper layoffs, had risen up, taken over Tansky's body, and thunderously demanded to be fed.

Wintour's response is equally shocking: given her magazine's role in pushing the culture of consumption, the culture of "aspirational" consumerism and "It" bags, one might expect Wintour to tell the titans of retail that she will speak to these tardy designers and tell them what's what. But instead she dresses down Tansky, giving him a politician's non-response about how she "hears what he is saying" and that it boils down to a problem of "editing." She says some of the younger designers have trouble editing their collections down, and she will see what she can do. Never mind that "editing" is almost the exact opposite of Tansky's concern; Wintour gets up from the table and leaves. And one is confronted with the surprising sense that, whether or not she knew it at the time, Wintour was on the right side of that issue.

There are a number of surprising things about The September Issue, which I finally saw last night. Although Wintour comes across as fairly warm and forthcoming, the camera cannot hide her staff's authentically fearful reactions to her presence; when Wintour is perusing photo spreads with her art director, she moves slowly and deliberately down a long bench, looking at photos one by one. When she approaches a young assistant who is lingering over, or perhaps just straightening, one of the shots, Wintour, without moving a muscle, says quietly, "Excuse me." The girl jumps out of Wintour's way like she's been bitten, and Wintour continues down the line of pictures without breaking stride.

Apparently, there also must be a rider in Patrick Demarchelier's contract about being able to shoot in beautiful locations, because we witness the production of one of those terrible, jumping, grey-background editorials of which Vogue is so very fond, and it doesn't take place at Milk Studios. Demarchelier, Caroline Trentini, Coddington, and the rest of the team are whisked away to a beautiful modernist house on a wide-open expanse of land; in the living room, a grey backdrop has been hung, and what emerges is a shoot which gives no inkling of its geographical origin. The location fees alone for that shoot boggle the mind.

The adversarial but respectful relationship between Grace Coddington, Vogue's top stylist, and Wintour is also explored. While other fashion editors crumble under Wintour's reproach — Edward Enninful says after a styling critique where Wintour rejects nearly every look he has put together that he wants to kill himself — Coddington fights, both in her editor's office and via backchannels. (She's always using the documentarians to try and find out how her spreads are faring — gaining pages, losing pages, or holding steady — in the layout room.) Wintour seems to respect Coddington all the more for her willingness to scrap; it's as though, like a good boss, she wants to be challenged.

When cover subject Sienna Miller steps into the scene, an instructive juxtaposition between celebrities and models is created. (We also see Raquel Zimmerman, Caroline Trentini, Coco Rocha, and numerous other no-name girls, do their thing; during a couture shoot in Paris, Zimmerman carefully eats a fruit tart the size of a saucer, while a distressed makeup artist looks on in preparation to re-perform her handiwork.) Sienna is full of life, giddy and excited and seemingly fun — also a canny business woman: she makes sure to introduce her designer sister, Savannah, to Wintour and the Vogue team — and the models are more subdued; there's a care taken in their movements. When a source makes the argument that women like Sienna got the idea to be models because they saw the supermodels of the late 80s and early 90s take over the fashion world, and grew to covet Linda Evangelista and Christy Turlington's beautiful ubiquity, it's hard not to agree. Sienna poses and jumps and mugs for the camera like an actress trying to look like a bombastic 80s model, as if by sheer enthusiasm she could will a beautiful picture into existence, and consequently her shots take all manner of Photoshop trickery — fake backgrounds, a head from one shot Frankensteined onto the neck and shoulders from another — to finesse. Raquel and Coco know just how to move a hand or a shoulder to set off the lines of the garment, and they work at it until the shot is just right. Coddington says at one point that she wouldn't care if she never saw another celebrity again in her life; and after seeing the focus that Raquel brings to that couture shoot — which ended up in the October, 2007, issue — you can't help but kind of agree.

The film is a well-studied evocation of all the hard work that goes into producing a magazine; unfortunately, the beauty and editorial sides are a little under-represented (we briefly see a spread featuring the makeup artist Pat McGrath in the layout room, and Wintour spends one scene looking bored while a junior editor goes over story ideas for the issue. "We're focusing on the eye, because I think eyes are a real concern for all women, they're the first thing that starts to really show age, even girls in their 20s worry about their eyes," says the editor. It's like watching a need being manufactured.) Wintour emerges as a surprisingly insecure. "Just because you like to put on a beautiful Carolina Herrera dress or a pair of J Brand blue jeans instead of something basic from Kmart doesn't mean you're a dumb person" is the kind of pre-emptive defense that says more about the defender's perceptions of the attack than anything else. "People are scared of fashion — because they're frightened or insecure, so they put it down...There is something about fashion that can make people very nervous." The idea that people only hate what they do not understand — implicit in which is the idea that there are no valid grounds on which to criticize Wintour, her magazine, or the fashion industry, just hurt feelings — is about the oldest trick in the book. And it comes off like Wintour, with her intellectual heavyweight family, is shadow-boxing. Who seriously pretends these days that appreciating good design and being smart are incompatible? Wintour's eagerness to defend herself on the issue is telling.

Vogue editorial image via Luxx at The Fashion Spot

Some teen stars grow up unscathed by their lifestyle; others have meltdowns, drug/alcohol problems and blame the black kid when caught driving like a crazy person through Hollywood. Is Taylor the latter or the former? It's cool that she has her own band, Pretty Reckless, but is it all too much too soon? Here are five quotes from her interview that make us wonder if she's headed for trouble:

1. Hints she was forced into the spotlight.

I kind of grew up in front of the camera: I started modeling when I was two. I was never pushed into it, but I never really chose it either.

2. Possible attention problems?

I found [high school] kind of boring [She finished two years early]. I'm an artist; I'm not going to use trigonometry.

3. A false (?) sense of maturity.

I'm taking college classes online — I want to major in Language Arts… For most people, college is a place where you learn about yourself, and I feel like I'm doing that already. I'm already independent.

4. A lack of friends.

I have such trust complexes. I'm close to like two people. I've always been like that. People misinterpret what I say all the time: They think I'm being offensive, when really, I'm only being opinionated.

5. She's into older guys.

I'm not dating anyone right now, but I've had lots of relationships. My parents know that I'm not going to date someone who's sixteen. Boys are so much less mature than girls as it is; there's just no way — I would eat a boy my age alive.

On the upside, she really enjoys working on Gossip Girl; says her parents trust her and was turned down for the role of Hannah Montana when she was nine, which means she's never posed draped in a sheet for Vanity Fair. So maybe everything will turn out alright.

Iron Maiden (interview), Taylor Momsen Photos, Video From Photo Shoot [Teen Vogue]

Earlier: Teen Vogue Makes Gossip Girl's Patch-Wearing Little J Pretend To Exercise

• Change! Stately old American Vogue is apparently seeking to revamp itself. Says Wayne Sterling, the mag wants "a new circle of models, an influx of fresh, young photographers and a desire for 'unpredictability' in the stories." Unpredictability. In Vogue. [TI]

• Marc Jacobs has added two pro-marriage equality t-shirts to his Marc by Marc line. One shows a line drawing of a lesbian couple with a child, and the other shows an American flag and a dollar sign; both have the tag line "I pay my taxes, I want my rights." The tees cost $24 and are available now. Jacobs is of course looking forward to his own gay marriage, in Massachusetts, later this summer. [PerezHilton]
• Jacobs, along with Patti Smith and David Rockwell, has been named one of the Pratt Institute's Legends of 2009. [WWD]
• Madonna wears diamond dust on her eyes. For that extra sparkly something. [People]
• Patrick Demarchelier shot Gossip Girl's Taylor Momsen in Central Park for the September cover of Teen Vogue. [TFS]
• The Kaiser's Chanel accessories ads featuring Lily Allen, who recently launched her own jewelry line, are also out. She wears a tiara in one; in another, she looks like she's hiding behind a carry-all. [FWD]
• Amanda Hearst, the model/heiress, is rumored to have been offered a job sinecure at Hearst-owned Marie Claire. [P6]
• More details are emerging about the only bid for the house of Lacroix that the bankrupt company's administrator has yet deemed "serious": Italian department store company Borletti had bid jointly with Christian Lacroix himself. Borletti bought the Printemps department store chain from Pinault-Printemps-Redoute in 2006, and owns the Italian department store La Rinescente jointly with Deutsche Bank. French turnaround firm Bernard Krief Consulting made a bid that the administrator described as "insufficient" for the fashion house, and which it has promised to revise upwards. No dollar values for these bids has been revealed. [Reuters]
• Maybe one way Christian Lacroix could make a little cash would be licensing his name to an unaffiliated uniforms division, since that's exactly what Nicolas Ghesquière of Balenciaga did. Air Tahiti Nui sent out a very happy press release yesterday announcing the introduction of its brand-spanking-new Balenciaga uniforms — but further investigation has revealed that the gear was made under license by a uniform company using the Balenciaga name. Our visions of flying with space-age Ghesquière creations were crushed. [The Moment]
• The rumors were true: Coach is launching — and fully funding — a signature line for its creative director, Reed Krakoff. The designer's eponymous accessories collection will launch for Fall '10. [WWD]
• This is despite the fact that Coach suffered a 32% decline in quarterly profits for the period ended June 27. Net income fell from $213.5 million last year to $145.8 million. [WWD]
• Rachel Roy and Estelle are working together on a jewelry line. Roy announced this via Twitter. [WWD]
• Zappos earned $10.7 million from total sales of $635 million worth of sales last year, according to new owner Amazon's SEC filing. [TBI]
• New York City charity HousingWorks, which sells used clothing and furniture and donates its profits to fund AIDS and homelessness, has been doing great business in the recession — understandable, considering so many of their offerings are designer. Susan Sarandon, Bill Clinton, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Chloé Sevigny, as well as, one presumes, a whole slew of regular well-dressed folk, all recently donated clothes and goods. [NYObs]
• Bravo, still reeling from the loss of Project Runway, is launching another fashion-themed reality show: Launch My Line. The concept pairs new designers with established industry lights in order to develop the youngsters' businesses — the best mentee gets his or her line launched, and the best mentor gets $50,000. It all unfolds under the watchful eye of hosts Dean and Dan Caten, of DSquared2, and judges Stefani Greenfield, formerly of retail chain Scoop, and Lisa Kline. [FabSugar]
• Profits at the multinational luxury company LVMH, which owns everything from Louis Vuitton to Dior to Sephora, dropped 23% in the first six months of this year, to 687 million euros, or $934.3 million, from 891 million euros, or $1.39 billion, a year earlier. Sales during the same period rose 0.2% on a year earlier. The top performing brands was Sephora, and Louis Vuitton handbag sales remained strong. [WWD]
• Maybe, just maybe, one reason profits are down is the fact that Louis Vuitton is trying to sell a $450 USB key? Hermès, in any case, is jumping on the lux-tech bandwagon with a bluetooth device "made of super lightweight carbon fiber, aluminum and supple leather ... [with a] custom-built silicon earring." [Racked]
• Men's control underwear is still being talked about as if it's a new idea. It isn't. [Telegraph]

We decided to resurrect some early gems, like this Versace campaign, shot by Richard Avedon, and co-starring (who else?) Naomi and Linda.


There is an entire cultural studies thesis about power dressing and the representation of women as authority figures and "having it all" latent in this picture from 1987.


Isn't it strange that this one, though it dates from almost ten years later, seems so passive by comparison? Calvin Klein had Turlington on a very restrictive exclusive contract until the early 1990s, when she was dumped by the brand for cutting her hair without consulting them — a relationship, and a reaction, that has always struck me as emblematic of a deep paternalism.


Herb Ritts, for Versace, makes Turlington look here like a piece of Surrealist art.


You just know there's a hipster in Williamsburg itching to wear this, a coat so ugly even Irving Penn couldn't make it look appetizing, right now.


Pressing questions: what is going on with the crotch of those pants?


Oh, man, remember film grain?


Since it seems inevitable that we're heading back to the 90s, would it be totally unrealistic to hope that we might return to these 90s?


Because I, for one, do not relish the thought of going back to these ones.


Ah, that's better.


Irving Penn contributes so very rarely to Vogue these days — which is understandable, given his advanced years. But this picture, and the next one, help show why he is missed.


Seriously, how long has it been since we've seen the actual shape of a human body, unaltered by Photoshop, in the pages of American Vogue? All the twists and overlaps are what make this picture — like the bulge in her arm that proves its supporting her weight, and the indentation the protrusion of her heel makes in her ass. And you can easily imagine these being among the first features that would be smoothed and tightened away under today's aesthetic regime.


Like they are here, in this otherwise striking cover from 2002.


Someone should make pumps like these again. They're not stupidly high, they have that perfect not-too-pointy toe, and the classic tapering heel. No hidden platform, no witchy long vamp, no 4" stiletto to negotiate walking in — just cute proportions and cute prints. Linda is saying, "Fuck yeah!"


Meisel in the 80s doing Avedon in the 50s isn't the most original of themes, but I'm a sucker for shots of women putting on their makeup and jewelry. Something about those moments of feminine toilette is so intimate and fascinating.


Shoulder-grazing ear-rings and 3 lb necklaces are fun to wear! Whee!


Never one to shy away from the unusual, for a 2006 campaign for her Puma line Nuala, the supermodel had artist Alex Katz paint her.

Christy Turlington is, of course, a lot more than a model these days. She quit the industry at the age of 25 to study comparative religion at NYU, and is currently a graduate student in public health at Columbia. Now 40 and a mother of two, Turlington is making a documentary about maternal health in developing countries. She's financing it with the money she makes from her occasional gigs, like being the next face of YSL. "I can talk about things that people in the field are afraid to bring up," says Turlington, "because their funding is tied to administrations and policy."

25 Years of Christy Turlington in Vogue [Style.com]
Beauty And Soul [Style.com]

I so wanted to love this exhibit. I'll admit that bias right from the start. I know first-hand what goes into a shoot, and the crucial animating energy of modeling — the performance that is part mute, still-frame acting, part own-stunt cojones (who do you think climbs South American rock faces without ropes, in couture? Lily Donaldson's double?), part pure, inexplicable presence — and I feel, frankly, that our contributions to the fashion industry and the discourse of images that the industry uses to represent itself to the world are often underreported and undersold. Getting up in the morning and transforming, convincingly, into the apotheosis of a photographer, designer, and stylist's only partly shared creative vision isn't easy.

And just now, after season upon season of most designers choosing to make their models look as inconspicuous, anonymous, and blandly interchangeable as possible on the runway and in advertising, after years in which the model has shrunk before our very eyes, the culture seems ripe for some kind of redress: a resurgence of individuality, a reassertion of personality. A return to the days when the casual fashionista — as opposed to only the dedicated indexer of Internet-derived fashion arcana — could at least tell us all apart. The theme of the Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute's brand-new and infinitely hyped "Model as Muse" exhibit, with its privileged understanding of the lowly clotheshorse's role in advancing fashion, seemed to promise a move in that direction.

What a terrible disappointment, then, to walk through the Tisch gallery on opening day and find an exhibit that was seemingly laid out with the goal of inspiring the utmost tedium in the viewer. I should have known as soon as I passed that terrible bit of tat with creepy Robo-Dovima in the entryway: the first corridor of photographs is lit with softboxes suspended from the ceiling. Softboxes. Photographic equipment illuminating exemplars of fashion photography! The single-entendre curation never lets up; the viewer is also subjected to such cheesy gestures as stepping literally through a velvet rope in order to enter the 1970s gallery. (Done up, naturally, to look like the basement of Studio 54, complete with unlit cigarettes.) It is difficult to concentrate on the beauty that surrounds when your ears are being assaulted with Alicia Bridges' "I Love The Nightlife" and your eyes with a tawdry-looking spread of yet more blank-faced mannequins, all decked out in truly atrocious wigs by fashion hairstylist Julien d'Ys.

I suspect even the curators, led by Costume Institute head Harold Koda, found their vision a little less than compelling: the exhibit often seems like the product of minds that occasionally wandered. In the wall copy, I spied the former model Anjelica Huston's name mis-spelled with a 'g', and I read twice within 30 seconds the phrase "attenuated limbs." (British model Karen Elson, in the 90s room, has "elegantly attenuated limbs," while American Stephanie Seymour, who closes out the 80s gallery, has "gracefully attenuated limbs.")

This Avedon photo of Lauren Hutton is what every American Apparel ad wants to be. And never will.

The exhibit proceeds dully, chronologically, through roughly the past 60 years of fashion history. The galleries dealing with each decade are separated by lines as clear as they are arbitrary; the Fifties, you see, was the decade of the Continent and Dior and Balenciaga, but then once the clock struck 12:01 on January 1, 1960, nobody made couture anymore, and Rudi Gernreich immediately put the obliging Peggy Moffitt in his monokini. Cue mod! (Cue the Who! On repeat!)

Veruschka, shot here for the August, 1968, issue of French Vogue by her then-lover, Franco Rubartelli, played a role in her shoots that today would be highly unusual for a model. She had significant input into, or sometimes even sole control, of the styling, the makeup, and the hair, and the images produced were generally collaborations between herself and the photographer.

It's hard to screw up showing quality fashion photography, framed on a wall. (Even the various viewer-insulting "contextual" gestures, like blaring pop music and the intrusive graffiti in the 90s room — perpetrated by hairdresser d'Ys, at Anna Wintour's instruction, which goes to show just how much control the noted museum patron has over the arts on display — do not entirely manage to quash the timeless beauty of, for example, Irving Penn's June 1950 Vogue cover shot of Jean Patchett. The presentation of the artifacts on the walls is fine. What I am still unclear about is the value of seeing the mannequin'd tableaux-morts featuring the actual designer clothes; if the point of this show is to celebrate models and their animating contributions to fashion and fashion photography, then, after seeing Veruschka in Yves Saint Laurent's safari collection, or Bert Stern's astonishing studio shot of Twiggy in the same designer's beaded midriff-dress, what end is served by seeing these same garments presented in dim exhibition suites, too far away to make out any detail of stitching or cut, on lifeless dummies that bear no resemblance to the women who once illuminated their beauty as articles of clothing? The safari dress as it hangs in the show isn't even styled properly. It lacks, in addition to Veruschka's firepower, its ring belt.

Even back in 1967, sample shoes didn't fit. Twiggy poses here, on her first trip to the U.S., for Vogue photographer Bert Stern.

If "Model as Muse" serves any useful purpose, it is to remind the viewer of fashion's headwaters, and of just how derivative fashion photography has become. In the first hall of the exhibit is Richard Avedon's iconic image of Sunny Harnett at the roulette table; in the last, is Stephen Meisel's 1998 version, with Carolyn Murphy. The elements are so much the same — blonde, cream dress, tuxedo'd gent, roulette — that the latter scrambles to rise to meet the criteria of "homage."

Sunny Harnett by Richard Avedon, for U.S. Harper's Bazaar, September, 1954.

In the 1960s suite, somewhere under the blaring of "My Generation" and the projected Qui Etes-Vous, Polly Magoo clip on repeat that overwhelms the room, there's a single page from the September, 1965 Harper's Bazaar.

Jean Shrimpton, by Richard Avedon.

It served to remind me of nothing so much as this Patrick Demarchelier image from last September's Vogue.

Catherine McNeil, by Patrick Demarchelier.

A picture of Lisa Taylor wearing Calvin Klein, by Helmut Newton for the May, 1975 issue of Vogue, hangs in the 1970s hall, near some mealy wall copy about 1970s gender roles. (A subject which any viewer would learn more about simply by pondering the viewer-viewed dynamic here between the languid, powerful-looking Taylor and the foregrounded male model, whose ass looks so unusually objectified.)

Lisa Taylor, by Helmut Newton.

Of course, as commenter LittleNemo pointed out last year when I posted a spread, Glen Luchford's September, 2008, Harper's Bazaar photo of Freja Beha Erichsen owes a debt to Newton.

Freja Beha Erichsen, by Glen Luchford.

This Demarchelier and the Luchford were not in the Met's show — the post-grunge years seem to be a curatorial afterthought, as they are represented in main by two outfits from a recent Louis Vuitton collection by principal exhibit sponsor Marc Jacobs and a bunch of pictures of Gisele Bundchen. But, whether all these archetypal images' latter-day derivations are physically present or not, you can only wander through these corridors for a matter of seconds before phrases like "anxiety of influence" come irrepressibly to mind.

It is, I am sure, not the reaction Koda, Wintour, Jacobs, and d'Ys would want. But these eminent lightweights, with their spraycans, their predilection for references to fictional movies about the industry, their ugly wigs and their uglier Nirvana soundtrack, their mis-spellings and their children's book fashion history — not to mention their craven elision of designer Azzedine Alaïa — did more than enough to earn it.

Perhaps someday a museum will be equal to mounting an intelligent investigation of the changing roles of fashion models, and fashion photography's relationship to the wider culture — its uneasily shifting placement on the continuum between high art and low commerce, between editorial content in magazines and clothes and makeup as we do them in everyday life. Perhaps someday, we'll see the model as muse. But that museum is not the Met, and that exhibition is not yet come.

The Model As Muse [Metropolitan Museum of Art]

Related: Alaïa Pulls His Dresses From The Met Gala [On The Runway]
Model As Veteran [NY Times]

There's pear-shaped!

There's small-boobed!

There's "has a belly"! (The copy reads: "But feel free to keep doing crunches!" Yukyuk! And I do mean yuck.)

There's giant rack!

And, what do you know? Big all over!


Of course, these are not models but "real women," so it's okay that their bodies are shaped kinda funny, right? That's why after this uplifting series of shapes and sizes, the VERY NEXT PAGE is:


Hey, lose weight! That is a command! Whether or not you need to lose weight, you should probably take off say, 8, 10 or 12 pounds. We'll show you how! Feel free to keep doing crunches, LOL.


But it's the main feature well where a plus-sized model is used. And this, friends, is a Big Deal. High-profile photographer Patrick Demarchelier. One model, getting all the attention. On a beach, which means plane tickets, which means $$$. And the results are pretty glorious. We're not saying this is a full-on trend, but the Australian edition of Harper's Bazaar just did a plus-size shoot as well. But back to Glamour: Is it odd that the magazine refrains from using the word "plus sized" and makes no note of the fact that its model is not the usual size four? Let's take a look at the language (and the pretty awesome pictures):

The hed and deck use great words like "sexy" and "goddess," but the caption? "Got curves? Ruched fabric (that's fashion for those pleats) cinges them while camouflaging lumps and bumps ." Emphasis ours, clearly.

I have no problem with this and may even frame it.

No language issues here, either, though she looks a wee bit uncomfortable.

This copy reads: "Love the retro red! We already know men are into it (duh!). But really, when you want to smolder, there's no better color." Yes, friends, we put on swimsuits not because we're going to SWIM but because we have to please THE MENS. Never forget.
Also, while there are no prices listed on these pages, so as not to distract you from the pretty, pretty pictures, in the back you'll find that the first suit is $325; the pastel bikini is $232; the black suit with the plunging neckline is $260 and this red one is $350. Happy recession!


‘Harpers Bazaar' Showcases Plus-Size Model Love [BlackBook]

Ah, yes. Smoking is one of Carine Roitfeld's Favorite Things; she once told the Guardian she wouldn't want Anna Wintour's job because in America, you can't put a smoking model on your cover. So it comes as little surprise that she'd find an excuse to show pregnancy clope à bec.

Is this an editorial about the tribulations, joys and ambiguities of contemporary motherhood? It certainly recognizes that we all have to juggle a lot of roles.

Feeding baby can be such a chore.

Adding another layer of weirdness to this shoot? The fact that Lily Donaldson dates Vladimir Restoin-Roitfeld, Carine Roitfeld's son.

Those Prada shoes are not recommended past the first trimester.

Chanel, on the other hand, is forever.

I love that this editorial isn't Lily Donaldson's usual prettified English-rose thing. Plus, it's cracking me up. But I'm a little bent. If American Vogue themed a shoot around "motherhood", all we'd get would be posed portraits of Liya Kebede with her baby, looking angelic, Natalia Vodianova with her baby, looking beatific, Milla Jovovich with her baby, looking serene — it'd be a 10-page snoozefest, the mother of all clichés. French Vogue found the tenderness in mothering, but also the humor, the wackiness, the suggestion that it isn't perhaps natural to all women, and the surprise.

You just know Patrick Demarchelier was snapping away when Carine said, in her smoky French Barbara Walters diction, "Leelee? Now we do somesing a leedle osé. Shoot up widt zee bottul. Pretend shoot up. Peuhfect. Yes."

Can you imagine the reader outrage if a similarly unsentimental editorial take on motherhood ever slipped past the censors at Condé Nast USA? Sometimes it's like Carine Roitfeld's sense of glee at not having to edit for American Vogue's outsized sense of propriety just seeps through the page.

The abstracted, angled black shadows on the white background, the strong, slanting light that hit the model just so, the black-and-white photography, and the simple lines of the featured clothes, all made one clear announcement: the cashmere brand pointed to the latest Calvin Klein campaign with Suvi Koponen, and told its creative team to copy like their lives depended on it. But then I got to thinking, haven’t I seen the architectural black and white theme elsewhere in fashion photography this season? In a business as crowd-sourced and trend-based as fashion, how can you tell the difference between recycling an aesthetic and taking inspiration from an old idea, anyway?

Suvi Koponen — Finland’s next top model, would you believe — has been favored for Calvin Klein Collection campaigns for the past few seasons. This fall, she was shot by Fabien Baron for a series of images that took dramatic delight in the lines of Francisco Costa’s garments, which this season were a little like 90s minimalism gone very good. Dodai is on record calling this campaign one of fall's worst ads, but I gasped when I first saw it. Working with so little — no props to create an atmosphere, no other models to generate charisma — could easily result in a tedious set of images. Sure, Suvi looks a little like a robot (an awe-inspiring fashion robot). And I don’t love the Stepford coiffure, which seems to unhelpfully contrast in era with the clothes. But I think these pictures are unmistakably beautiful. And I prefer their flirtation with high-concept self-serious absurdity to a million here’s-a-pretty-girl-now-buy-our-product luxury campaigns any day.

So clearly any images that distinctive were going to get knocked off. TSE photographed both its men’s and women’s lines in a style that looks like a dumbed-down retread of Baron and Koponen's Calvin Klein campaign.

The buttons on this coat don’t lie flat down the front, and the shadows cast by the lapels make the man’s chest look hollow. The coat hangs like it’s too big and nobody cared to pin it. Whereas in Baron's images, the bare-bones minimalism worked, here the same aesthetic looks under-thought and under-inspired. The result is boring.

Another fashion personage supping from the black-and-white cup this season? Patrick Demarchelier. The iconic photographer had an editorial in November’s Italian Vogue with models Mariacarla Boscono and Anja Rubik where the nearly all-black styling, plain white studio set with angled walls, and dramatic spot lighting all point to the same originating idea as the Calvin Klein campaign. But Demarchelier is enough of a creative mind to push the edges of the concept just enough to spread it over some different ground.

Gone is any attempt to make the models look 'natural': their poses are exaggerated, their torsos and legs twist and weave to bizarre effect. The shadows they throw are occasionally grotesque, and the weird black shapes on the walls play with the same ideas of scale as the built-up shoulders, jutting collars, and rigid teacup peplums of the clothes.

Hair is a frizzed bowl cut in bleach blonde (Rubik) or jet black (Boscono); makeup an ungodly pallor etched with mannequinish black lines at the jaw and lips. It all feels a little stagey, but that is the point: Demarchelier is reminding us that everything we see in the pages of a fashion magazine is artifice. Any magazine is an experience engineered by the conscious aesthetic choices of hundreds of individuals, and the same hours of of styling, hair, makeup, and post-production go into a 'natural' Steven Meisel editorial as into one where the models look like aliens experienced in posing. There is nothing natural about it. I think Demarchelier’s adjusted reflection of Fabien Baron’s campaign is a welcome contribution to the fashion discourse.

To me, this is a perfect example of fashion's hot-house idea-sharing — how an idea as old as the sun (black and white) is made to seem new again in an ad with weird styling and solid photography, inspires an old hand to take up the idea and add something new to it outside the realm of advertising, all while other brands move to piggyback and do so with less skill than the original. That's the fashion cycle, right there.

• Rumor has it that Jessica Biel's gonna be designing bags for squeeze Justin Timberlake's William Rast line. "Sources say she has already started sketching designs for a limited edition collection. Isn't it a coincidence how much hidden design talent there is in Hollywood? [Daily Express]
• "In times of uncertainty, I think the wrap dress becomes an even more important friend. It's flattering. And wrapping is a reassuring thing." Why yes, it is, Diane Von Furstenberg! [Newsweek]
• Naomi Campbell is doing a duet and music video with Indian star Ashkay Kumar - in Hindi. [VogueUK]
• Apparently Manolo Blahnik can take or leave Sex And The City. He's never seen it! [New York Post]

• Karl Lagerfeld unveiled the Christmas windows of Paris store Printemps, which feature "a fantasy troupe of articulated puppets named Coco frolicking in a garden of golden flowers." [WWD]
• "Each puppet is stylishly attired in a modern, almost space age take on the classic quilted Chanel suit and every puppet has Mademoiselle Chanel's iconic blunt fringed bob." [ElleUK]
• Speaking of moddles named Coco: "Not so long ago, Rocha was just your average Irish-dancing, nature-loving Canadian teenager." [WWD]
• "The first order of business for the new president will no doubt be to get America to hitch up its pants and give the economy a kick-start. It will be interesting to see if he can also get America to hitch up its pants, period." [NY Times]
• Breaking! "This week has seen Agyness Deyn on a fashion rollercoaster channelling a different trend or decade every day." [ElleUK]
• Cosmetics company Carol's Daughter will help address the severe shortage of celeb fragrances with "My Life by Mary J Blige." [WWD]
• Following K-Mart's example, Sears brings back layaway. Which, sadly, requires far too much foresight for the average holiday shopper.[AdAge]
• L'Oreal announces winners for the 11th annual L’Oréal-UNESCO Awards for Women in Science. [WWD]
• Oscar de la Renta's house is really nice. [Style.com]
• Jennifer Vendetti may be the one to discover the rest of us! "The New York casting director is known in the industry for her rare eye for finding the imperfect, but captivating, beauty in everyday people." [W]
• Check it: Hayden Hartnett's line for Target. Dig the umbrella. [Racked]
• Rachel Bilson's "style obsessions" apparently include Kobo candles, her own line. [Cosmopolitan]
• These "just douche it" ads are intended/likely to piss off Nike. [AdRants]
• Fashion darlings Rodarte win Swiss textile award. [WWD]
• Feminists, Catholics aren't thrilled about Boston College's Victoria's Secret collaboration. [UPI]
• Newsweek discovers that redefining our fashion priorities, recessionista-style, could be a good thing. [Newsweek]
• Modelinia, the new all-moddles-all-the-time site, is gearing up. [Fashionista]
• More on Helmut Lang's bizarre collaboration with Absolut, which is allegedly about "experiencing art" in new ways. Drunk? [BlackBook]
• New book on secret rebel Geoffrey Beene. "On the outside, the bespectacled, bow-tied Southerner appeared uptight and WASPy, but he was an enthusiastic early adapter of cheap chic (launching his lower-priced Beene Bag sportswear collection in 1971) and the promise of the Internet." We do like our contradictions! [Los Angeles Times]
• Kohl's and Nordstrom pessimistically cut their outlooks. [Reuters]
• Ouch, and Abercrombie's really hurting. [The Street]
• Get me Demarchelier! The legendary lensman started small: "I was 17 and living in Le Havre when my stepfather offered me a camera. I got hooked instantly. I learned the art of photography working in a small shop there, taking passport and wedding photos." [WSJ]
• Jay McCarroll hates the spotlight. Kinda. "But I guess the more I stand there and the more someone notices and writes, then I can have a beach house...I’m going to get to drinking now, okay?" [Observer]
• Apparently the hemline index is still relevant in Morocco! [Global Voices]

The Good
Who knew I could be so glad to see a miniature top hat?
Sure. Nothing wrong with a basic ensemble like Estelle Lefebure's.
Model Jessica Stam is young, lovely enough to totally rock this.



The Bad:
So many ugly things in Frederique Bel's outfit, so little time.
Hey, don't ask me. I have no insight into the inner workings of Naomi Campbell's mind.
I don't like to toss around the term "Nazi ringmaster in a David Lynch film," but if the shoe fits...sorry, Chantal Thomas.
Look. We all know we could dispense with pants if we wanted. That doesn't mean it's advisable.
And we thought Katie Holmes had defined the denim nadir! Meet Elodie Bouchez .
A 15-year-old punk and a 15-year-old dandy are in a fight to the death. The battleground: the hide of Lenny Kravitz.

[Images via Getty]

• Tara Subkoff's short films for Bebe are all set to premiere. Says the designer of her "star," Lydia Hearst: "She truly reminds me of the classic 'Hitchcock blonde' — he would have loved her and she would have been a huge star in his films if we could go back in time." Obviously, like Subkoff, Hitch would have staged lesbian makeout sessions with Aubrey O'Day in front of Bungalow 8 for his art. [WWD]
• Sometimes we wonder whether Karl Rove is behind this seemingly systematic campaign to get everyone in Fashionland behind Obama. "Designer Patricia Field has created an Obama t-shirt that reads "Elegance. Dignity. Obama. Statesman." Naturally, this is written in glitter. [Racked]
• We kind of don't understand why Jeremy Piven was the host of Conde Nast's Fashion Rocks concert last year, but according to Page Six the actor "was a 'nightmare,' insisting on a separate green room and rewriting the script up until the last minute. 'And it wasn't even funny,'said the source." [P6]

• Wait, what? Luxury brand LVMH acquires yacht company. [WWD]
• After months of speculation, minimalist label Jil Sander sold to Japan's Onward Holdings Co. [WSJ]
• Gryphon designer Amy Cho meets fashion halfway with a "Responsible Fur" initiative, which encourages the use of "recycled" vintage furs and extra-soft fakes. Methinks we love her. [Style.com]
• Baggy jeans are back. Not Katie-Holmes sloppy, either: these Bottega Veneat guys are more early-90s harem. [The Life Files]
• Buckingham Palace guardsmen may switch from real bearskin hats to Stella McCartney fauxs after animal rights activists meet with Ministry of Defense. [Daily Mail]
• Following in the footsteps of Vera Wang, various penniless freelancers, Oscar de la Renta will be a guest-blogger on Brides.com. "He'll be writing about wedding choices on dresses, jewelry and destinations. " [WWD]
• In a desperate bid to lure back-to-schoolers, mid-price retailers pull out all the stops. "Kohl's launched six lines of clothing this summer with a star-studded advertising campaign featuring celebrities from including Lenny Kravitz and Hayden Panettiere. JCPenney introduced another half-a-dozen labels, the department store's biggest crop of new brands, with looks ranging from urban rock to all-American. And Dillard's is chasing soccer moms with a line designed by Sheryl Crow that hit stores last month." Wait...Lenny Kravitz? [LAT]
• Style.com is branching out. "On Sept. 2, the site will debut Shop Now, where designer advertisers can pay to have their brands featured." Or, to have them considered: the editors will decide which of the submissions to feature. [MediaWeek]
• To celebrate its centennial, venerable makeup brand Max Factor has treated itself to Gisele Bundchen. For a campaign, I mean. [ElleUK]
• The relatively youthful British Harper's Bazaar is thriving. [Independent]
• Wait, isn't this what the internets do? The new magazine Distill "will present a digested read of the style and fashion press from all over the world, offering a shorthand guide to what and who are in fashion, and how those trends are being captured and covered." [Independent]
• Guess legendary photog Patrick Demarchelier likes his work. "I love all women. Women are sublime beings. I love all of it: their eyes, their noses, their bodies." [Telegraph]
• You know there's a problem when models are complaining that they're too thin: says Karen Elson, "Fashion is obsessed with finding young, beautiful and vulnerable girls, bringing them into the fashion world, praising them, worshipping them but suddenly dropping them like a stone when they hit puberty and grow boobs and hips. It's so dangerous and can potentially harm the girls mentally and physically." [Guardian]
• Shockingly, real designers don't want to dress Heidi Montag. "They don’t want their stuff on Heidi, even despite the fact that she is very media-friendly and is photographed a lot," the rep said. "It’s just not the caliber of celebrity most clients go for." [The Superficial]
• Sadie Frost arranges celeb auction for breast cancer. The haul? "Here are the black peep-toe size 38 Christian Louboutins which “Kate” has signed and covered with graffiti love hearts, a dress belonging to Amy Winehouse, a suit Jude Law wore on the set of Alfie, a guitar donated by Kasabian guitarist Jay Mehler, a Jake Chapman picture." [This Is London]
• Tamara Mellon's ex, Matthew, is hoping second time's the charm: "Mellon has joined forces with his new bride-to-be, designer Nicole Hanley, to introduce Hanley-Mellon, a clothing line that will launch for spring 2009. “It’s a mix of Chloé, YSL and bohemian chic,' Mellon told WWD." [WWD]

Many women are transformed by Dangin's computer stylus, which sits in a basement laboratory at "Box", his four-story, Manhattan Photoshop fortress: In addition to Drew, there is the trophy wife with the "flat" face and "short" legs; the shoulder blade found "in a recent project at W"; the cast of the Sopranos; Prada models; "a famous actress in her late twenties"; a "crunchy"-faced model; "another well known actress"; "an actress with a movie coming out this spring"; Kate Moss; models Liya Kebede and Raquel Zimmerman; Madonna. And then there is model Christy Turlington, who, Collins explains, "needs the least help".

Collins, interestingly (purposefully?) glosses over Dangin's flaws as adeptly as he reshapes a model's nasiolabial folds. Her interview subjects, she explains, liken him to "a translator, an interpreter, a conductor, a ballet dancer articulating choreographed steps". (She compares his work to that of painters Jasper Johns and John Currin; he is, she later explains solemnly, "savantlike".) Collins also seems almost resolutely disinterested in exploring Dangin's role in perpetuating unrealistic standards of beauty and when a photograph ceases to be a photograph and becomes, what Redbook editor Stacy Morrison once said, "an image": most of the critics and/or experts of photo manipulation Collins quotes are all long-dead; the only living people she does quote are all fans of Dangin; and she all but skips over the news that Dangin retouched Dove's "Campaign for Real Beauty" advertisements. And when she finally gets around to asking Dangin about the work he does and how it affects and defines those aforementioned standards of beauty, she follows his explanation — "I'm just giving the supply to the demand" — with a cynical parenthetical announcing, "fashion advertisements are not public-service announcements." (Yeah, tell that to Newsweek's Jessica Bennett, who put up this story on Friday, quoting a NYC stylist as saying "those young kids looking at the magazines, they're dreaming of something that doesn't exist.")

The work Dangin does, has, not surprisingly, made him very rich. (He owns homes in Manhattan, the Hamptons, and St. Bart's; in addition to the cover portrait of Barrymore, Dangin, with the help of favorite Photoshop tools as the smudge brush, the warping tool, and the clone stamp, retouched — or "tweaked" — 107 advertisements and 36 fashion photographs in the March 2008 issue of Vogue alone.) It has also, interestingly, made him somewhat of a god among the egotistical, easily-unimpressed bigwigs in the fashion and photography industries, who defer to his whims without a second thought. His list of clients is both impressive and iconic: Steven Meisel, Patrick Demarchelier; Annie Leibovitz ("Just by the fact that he works with you, you think you're good"); Inez and Vinoodh; Craig McDean, who says he gives Dangin "carte blanche" to basically do whatever he wants. Whether Dangin enjoys all the adulation and deference that comes his way, Collins does not make clear (nor does she explore the fact that from the photographers to the photo retouchers to the art directors, images of women in fashion magazines are manipulated and decided upon by men before they ever appear before a female fashion editor's eyes.) As for the things Dangin doesn't enjoy — on the women whose photographs he alters, that is — they include the following: ropy blue veins; bony temples; fleshy chins; bumps of all sorts; big knees; "slumpy" legs; bad pores. Oh, and of course, fat asses.

Several days later, Demarchelier returned to the studio to continue winnowing images for the show. The conversation turned to which shot to include of another well-known actress.

"I like her in this one, because she looks very natural," Dangin said.

"Yes," Demarchelier agreed. "In that other pose, she looks like an actress."

"But she's also very good here," Dangin said, of a shot that showed her partially nude.

"Yes, she's very beautiful in that position. Do you want to cut it?"

"No, no. I'm going to keep it for the ass," Dangin said.

"Maybe we could redo the ass."

"Yes, the ass is quite heavy."

Related: Picture Perfect [Newsweek]

Earlier: Photoshop of Horrors
Vogue Cover Girl Drew Barrymore Has Been Powerfully Photoshopped
Our Fifteenth Minute: That Faith Hill Photo Wasn't Actually A Photo, Redbook Editor Explains

• What the world needs today: a celebrity fashion "collaboration"! The latest is Rachel Bilson, with Brian Reyes, and the apparel in question is bridesmaids dresses, for her BFF's wedding to The O.C. and Gossip Girl creator Josh Schwartz. We hope she choses a style that is flattering on people who are not anti-food. [Fashionista]
  
• In a sad day in the history of the legendary House of Givenchy, Justin Timberlake has been tapped to front a yet-to-launch new fragrance of theirs. And in heaven, Hubert de Givenchy cries into the bosom of Audrey Hepburn. [WWD, sub req'd]
  
• Fashion photographer Patrick Demarchelier, possibly off the deep end: "Love is everywhere. I look at you and I see love. Hearts are everywhere and love is everywhere. This is very good." Um, OK. [Fashion Week Daily]
  
• New York Times fashion critic Cathy Horyn: Banned again! This time from D&G. The As I Lay Dying of the garmentverse, that one. [Fashion Week Daily]

• On the whole, the buyers in attendance at the Milan shows thought they, how to put this, sucked. [WWD, sub req'd]
• A dress worn by Kate Moss! Now on eBay! [Sassybella]
• Do you like McDreamy as the face of Versace Men? [Uh, is that a rhetorical question? -Moe] [Sassybella]
• French label Paul & Joe: Now designing Perrier cans. We last heard of them when they did a Target collection. [Sassybella]
• Karl Lagerfeld, never one to miss out on a moment of potential glory, is staging a shhhhhsecret Fendi fashion show during Paris fashion week. Even though, like, Fendi's an Italian label and just showed. [Vogue UK]
• English designer/Agyness Deyn BFF Henry Holland: Collaborating with Levi's on an eight-piece capsule collection. For those of you who care enough to know who Agyness Deyn's BFF is, we can only assume. [Catwalk Queen]
• Hugo Boss is launching a new fragrance, Boss Pure. Because nothing's really quite as pure as a whiff of oversold department store cologne. [WWD, sub req'd]

• No joke, we actually snorted when reading this: Levi's is doing a line (see what we did there?) with artist Damien Hirst for a brand called Warhol Factory X Levi's X Damien Hirst, which will debut during New York Fashion Week. Um, they do know this is the same guy who likes to, you know, encrust human skulls with diamonds, right? [WWD, 1st item]
  
• "What Is Wrong With The World?" asks Lauren Goldstein Crowe in the headline of her daily Portfolio blog entry. Her answer: The Proenza Schouler boys got cheated in their deal with Valentino. Man's inhumanity to man: It's a bitch sometimes! [Portfolio.com]
  
• For all you people screaming that "Preppy is back!" — We just spent a weekend in Tuxedo Park, NY: Preppy never died. [WSJ]

• The Christmas shopping season (and its accompanying merchandising schemes) have already begun at English department store Selfridge's. We might throw ourselves out a window. [Vogue UK]
• Phillip Lim (of yesterday's new opened SoHo flagship store) is designing a line for Birkenstock. We cannot wait to see this minimalist go all earthy crunchy granola. [FabSugar]
• Those douchey Anya Hindmarch "I Am Not A Plastic Bag" bags? Banned in China. Because they were causing riots. Yeah, meet the people who are rendering us economically irrelevant. [Times of London]

• Oprah will present Ralph Lauren with a lifetime achievement award at the upcoming CFDA Awards on June 4. [WWD, 1st item]
• The fashion world loves photographer Patrick Demarchelier. Probably because they have no idea what he's saying half the time. [WWD, last item]
• Correction: Giorgio Armani does not speak Yiddish after all, but talks sufficiently dirty in his native Italian. [WWD, 3rd item]
• The bra turned 100 this weekend with nary a peep from Gloria Steinem. [The Budget Fashionista]