Inspiration behind Twenty8Twelve's AW 2013 CollectionAugust 19 2013, 15:20
The 1940’s provides the inspirational back drop for Twenty8Twelve’s Autumn Winter 2013 collection.
Andre Zucca’s propaganda photography of occupied Paris in the 1940’s and his use of vivid Agfa colour film informs a palette of navy, bright blues, camel and saturated red. The inhabitants of the Paris Zucca portrayed, the war time directive to ‘make do and mend’ and chore garments of the age are explored to produce a series of styles which combine contrasting fabrics, textures and colours. Double-faced bi-coloured wool mimics a faded lapel on a casual jacket, trimmed with a multi-coloured nepped collar. Key knitwear pieces are assembled from boiled wool, mesh knit and silk.Dresses and shirts feature angular graphic panelled stripes in multi direction to exaggerate the angular 1940’s sleeve seam. The new silhouette to emerge from the era is dissected; deployed on garments by overlaying contrasting coloured panels of ultra stretch ceramica and slub boucle, giving the illusion of an exaggerated small waist and rounded hip.
The period saw the emergence of the Zazou’s, a subculture who adopted a garish personal style in an expression of resistance and nonconformity. This reference to rebellious youth is at the heart of all twenty8twelve collections. Considered decadent and subversive the Zazous borrowed from the American zoot style, this is reinterpreted in the collection producing an oversized and long line jacket in oxblood spot boucle with tonal fur lapel, a playful dress in the same fabric which fastens in the style of a zoot jacket with chrome domed snaps sits along side this. A Zazou skirt in crisp silk is attached to a fine gauge oversized sweater, one that has the slouchyness of a teenager borrowing from her boyfriend. Check fabrics are key to the story, combined with silk grosgrain they appear on a swing style dress, a neatly cut tailored shirt, and a reversible Harrington jacket in a mod revivalist style. Double-faced sweat-shirting is tailored to form the new silhouette without the underpinnings in reference to the less structured American sportswear, this sits alongside narrow cut tie-dye leather pants.
Elsewhere super-soft pink melange wool flannel is cut into a 40’s military style uniform, with a shrunken fit jacket, exaggerated wide leg pleated pants, and multi layered trench coat. A WW2 quilted coat is recreated in cropped proportion in butter soft leather, with the internal detail applied in satin to the sleeves of a utility knit. This feminine palette of chalky greys and dirty pink in mannish looks is disturbed with the use of a vibrant pop teal, and magenta in styles more reminiscent of the glamour associated with the 1940’s, which include a dramatic cocoon coat in teal mohair wool, and a bonded pique tuxedo jacket cut with pronounced hip recalling Norman Parkinson’s iconic fashion images.Category: fashion art film Author Elsa Elphick
Artist Heath Lowndes - Talks to Twenty8Twelve UnheardSeptember 12 2012, 10:47
‘Around the Corner in Darkness’ - By Greta Bellamacina
Federation of British Artists presents Heath Lowndes; plucked from his 2012 art degree show at Brighton University and placed in the prestigious Threadneedle Space in the Mall Galleries. Heath’s work has caused quite a storm amongst art lovers and non-lovers alike. His oil painting, ‘Around the Corner in Darkness’, is reminiscent of a bay of mystery. A dance in the trees. A painting of both strong commitments to the wild desire of the night amongst lived tales, remote from any other neither told nor sold to the day. Flooding to a first glance of a dream. The towering trees seem to be in motion, flying by like a bike ride through dawn.
Heath describes his main influences as “horror movies and pagan mythologies”. This could describe the succession of dark layers in his latest collection of ‘day and night in the forest’ paintings. Heath plans to travel to India in the New Year to discover the Vedas, an ancient form of storytelling. Lost in both language and population, a philosophical lyric combined with hymns.
Heath has an awareness of the challenges he must overcome as an artist; he talks freely about his agony with his latest collection of paintings, wanting to “translate moving imagery into his oil paintings”. He describes his most creatively rewarding time in Canada, “being disconnected in a small town in winter, with a 24-hour studio and isolated social life”. Heath reveals that like most industries, the art market has become a sanctuary of fame and money. He recently wrote an article on the ambiguity of pricing art, controversy questioning the significance and value of the art world. Concluding that an artist makes their value sometimes regardless of talent.
Like most things moving, Heath has been asked to showcase his work in a pop-up show on Rivington Street, East London, on 1-5th of November. Heath’s direct trust with painting is an on going tale born in eyes similar to ours. Young and real.
Olympian Apollo TwentyTwelve for Twenty8TwelveAugust 16 2012, 12:11
A Poetic Review
by Greta Bellamacina
According to Greek mythology there were twelve Olympian Gods who ruled the world. Standing on the pivot of this hour, two thousand and twelve it seems, that the world has turned a full heart turning circle. Placed in the centre of the Olympic stadium to watch the athletics of Gods and Goddesses of torch bearing war, all travelled elements form the Olympian twelve reasoning the heroic wilderness.
For those who dream for gold
It hung in a torch beyond
Fantasy. Hanging. Locking
And recovering in the finishing line.
It travelled in the interlocking
Glints to rays of instant
Time. Pressed between
Bronzed bodies in the moving,
Anchoring in repetition
Of those precise, movements.
Forming in the exchange. Cupped.
Faster in the sporting twist of
Quarters. Opening wild visions,
Of those who leaped. Stronger in shape,
Created in the folding heights
Of a game. Symbols ordered.
Adapting to shifting strengths.
In a taken dawn. Packed
In collections of splendour. To
Awaking bones, full, alive in moment.
Followed by a showcase of senses,
Foreign, a circle is moulded.
Not finishing but starting.
In silver sums of two. A grid
Immediately rooted. In a remote need
Of running runs of distant pace,
Fanning solid peaks up and afar
For neither you nor I to underestimate.
An ivory glow in a collection, of daring speeds.
Volumes of bursting thrills, skipping
Bare-handed, playing backwards
In refined ambition. Understood.
Their bodies fall like petals.
Back to accomplished dreams. In altering
Voids of infatuation. Crossing worlds ringed
In a spirited blaze of
Underground Sensation of SohoJuly 23 2012, 10:37
A Poetic Review
by Greta Bellamacina (photos by Jacob Perlmutter)
The slanting streets of Soho disappear in and out of diffused light. A reality of the night, dampened into the electrifying mystery of the day. Sunken back streets play a fable to a time of blasting mayhem. Milk & Honey a windowless secret, serving pink ladies to interlacing strangers. The taste transcends sweet elegance and a comforting getaway from the cascading roads of central London. Masked in a coloured chameleon dress from Twenty8Twelve, casts a wild underground sensation from a quite corner of Soho.
A passing in Soho
An endless void,
For pink ladies, double. Flowerless.
A number, no door.
To cross worlds of broken silences,
Infatuation vaporised. In these vacant times,
Time to turn inwards.
To see how those intervals crazed thee.
In dwellings of,
A reading from “Kaleidoscope”- selected poems at The BridgeJuly 15 2012, 14:48
A Poetic Review
By Greta Bellamacina (photos by Lily More)
In a shadowed corner of East London, The Bridge saloon bar curtained, entrapping the bizarre. Vaporising sound. Blinding out all but curiosity. A toy kingdom of furniture, framing a Venetian edge to what seems to be the entering of the wild fringes of fantasy. A poetry reading unfolds between friends. Interludes within words, settling in a cave of existence. A simple connection between beauty and the intrigue, increasing minds in thoughts and space. Antiquities with eyes and handles stare out from collecting corners. Words smile, and the distant memory of the world beyond seems as grey as the colour. Drinking coffee from Turkish china, philosophy and passion smokes the air. And the memory of ‘love before you love it’ chimes in the moment. Poised in elegant French fancy dresses from Twenty8Twelve depicts the poet’s corner.
Love Before You Love It
Inside the violet livings,
A night veined the fantastic. A first,
Pinned-up and plastic statued.
Expecting satin but found Paris in a room.
She the lady-love, hammocked
A fantasy in the surpassing
Chop of naked reality. Wet eyed
Love. And love before you love it,
Swell it up and fall, over.
Choke at the missing point. And swallow
Love. Love before you love it, a
Living. Turned and spined,
Into the centre point,
Piece of pineapples and pears.
Cast-cut of an exotica is only
Bold in spoken reality. Thoughts are not
Truths beyond the table. Fluent and dressed
She is gone.
Greta with fellow poet Daisy Walker
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