I usually like Topshop’s ads. Alasdair McLellan shoots them most of the time and he’s one of my favorite photographers.

I love what they borrow from street style (unknown models, natural images and light, taken outside) and I love how they put together a certain inspired style in every photo.

Even though I haven’t found the perfect pump, let alone a leopard pair!

The thing is I am super bad at shopping. You see those pants in the picture ? Pretty cool right ? They are from TopShop. And my hotel in London ? It was 10mn away from TopShop… But I didn’t go. Because :

- You don’t just take a walk through Topshop. You dive into it. It’s three hours minimum for a good shopping session. Which is just… Too long!
- I always think that I am getting super great deals but I actually buy the worst things. Like the cheap designers knock-offs. While my friends find super cool stuff.
- I think I am saving money but actually, TopShop is not cheap… Conclusion : I ruin myself for stuff that’s not that great.

But I do have regrets. Mary Katrantzou just designed a collection for TopShop and I love Mary Katrantzou. I loved her show yesterday – I’ll post it here later.

But I’ve never found a good designer + high street collaboration piece, because I hate the wait, and the fights over a pair of shorts. I could call on to my blogger superpowers (ahah) to go to pres-sales, but deep, deep, deeeeep inside, I think I am just not that crazy about shopping for that stuff.

H&M + Marni is on the way. Are you going to fight for it or are you already over it ?

- On ne fait pas juste “un tour” à Topshop. On s’y noie. Trois heures minimum si on veut faire un bon vrai shopping. C’est juste… Trop long.
- Je pense toujours faire des affaires et j’achète les pires trucs. Genre les mauvaises imitations de designers qui font super cheap. Mes copines, elles trouvent tous les bons trucs.
- Je crois faire des affaires alors que la vérité, c’est que TopShop, c’est pas donné, et donc en fait, je me ruine pour des trucs pas terribles.

Pourtant j’ai des regrets. Mary Katrantzou vient de dessiner une collection pour TopShop et j’adore Mary Katrantzou. J’ai adoré son défilé d’hier – je le posterai un tout à l’heure.

Mais je n’ai jamais trouvé une pièce de collaboration designer + high street, car je déteste me lancer dans la bataille, attendre des heures, me disputer autour d’une culotte. Je pourrais évoquer mes superpowers de bloggeuse pour avoir accès aux préventes, mais je crois qu’au fond du fond du fond, je ne suis vraiment pas assez dingue de shopping pour ça.

H&M pour Marni arrive bientôt. Vous allez faire la queue ou ça vous soûle d’avance ?

Last Saturday, in the middle of doing some interior decoration shopping, I left a boutique in total shock by the price of the most sublime vintage chair that I’ll be dreaming about for a long time coming. Look out! $8,000.

I walked across Broadway to console myself with a latte when suddenly, just to my right, I see a little shop with, you’d never guess, my chair in the window. Ahhhh torture! I get a little closer, take a look, and see the price. $200. On sale for $160.

??? What the… ?

Samedi dernier, en plein shopping déco, je ressors d’une boutique totalement choquée par le prix d’une chaise vintage sublime dont je rêverais encore longtemps. Au secours ! 8000$.

Je traverse Broadway pour aller me réconforter avec un latte, quand soudain sur ma droite, je vois un minuscule magasin avec – le sort s’acharne – ma chaise en vitrine. Je me rapproche, je regarde, je vois le prix. 200$. Soldée à 160$.

??? Mais bien sûr.

I head through the doors with my expression #18 : Colombo goes shopping, and I say to the vendor in my most innocent voice, “Is this a faux?”

He looks at me and smiles his most malicious smile, “Yes! But it’s exactly the same, the exact same thing as the real thing.”

I pop the collar of my trench and I say to him like a fellow conspirator, “But isn’t it illegal for you to sell these?”

He gives me a wink and says, “No, after 75 years, the design becomes public domain. Designers can’t hoard their creations forever!

I stayed for almost a half hour looking at all his copies. Some of them were pretty terribly done, but some of them totally had it perfect. In what felt like under a minute, I somehow capsized in design paradise. Everything is beautiful and well designed, everyone is malicious and give you side winks, and all these chairs are sitting on their little clouds costing a mere $160.

And it was right in the middle of my dream that I met Charles & Ray Eames who said to me, “Garance, how dare you? Do you not care about us in the slightest?”

Back to reality I fall, and that poorly lit store on Broadway, to you, I say goodbye. I can’t do this… Because in all honesty, I totally already have :

Flash back #1

One day during London Fashion week a few years back, I snuck away for a few hours with a couple journalist friends in between runway shows to go take a stroll around TopShop.

And right there, I see the most sublime jacket, and I swear it’s the second coming of a jacket from the last YSL collection that I wanted oh so badly. Happy as could be, I tried it on and let out a scream, when right then, one of my friends says, “You know, I like TopShop and all but that jacket is pretty much just a copy. I’m sorry. I just can’t do that to the designer. And I mean, it just makes it worse that we all work in fashion and know the collections so well.”

I raised my gaze to the sky and standing over me in my fitting room was Stefano Pilati who said to me, “Garance, how dare you? Do you not care about us me in the slightest?”

So yeah, a little taken aback by the stinging remarks from my friend (but at the same time, happy about it because it’s nice to have friends who call you out on your shit), but still, I buy the jacket, just because I’m a total idiot.

Result : Never wore it. Never once. Every time I saw it, I felt like such a traiter. And yeah well also, frankly, the material surely left something to be desired. And the jacket wasn’t even that cute. It was just a poor substitute to the one that in the warmth and glow of the YSL store, looked absolutely sublime.

Conclusion : Faux jacket, Real bad investment. Not to say that’s always the case, listen to this…

Flash Back #2

I have in my possesion, and have since the dawn of time,  something I have no idea where it orginally came from, I have the most sublime copy of a Birkin.

It is made of the most beautiful tan leather, supple and perfectly aged. It’s made with a leather that Hermès no longer uses (we’ll get to talk Hermès leather soon, promise…). Oh I just love it so much.

So much that when I walk down the street with it, people stop me to tell me how beautiful it is, and I feel bad unless I tell them…

“No, but it’s totally a fake. Yeah, it’s beautiful and all. And yeah, they don’t make them anymore… but it’s still a fake.”

Result : Obviously, I never wear it.

So a fake is a fake. It could be ugly or exquisite, maybe other people know, maybe just you, but still, a fake is always a fake.

Pffffff and yeah, that’s the super boring moral of the story.

—–

PS : I really see a difference between an obvious copy and a garment “inspired by”, fashionable and of the taste of the moment… That’s why I love TopShop and Zara.

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Je pousse la porte avec mon expression n°18 : Colombo fait du shopping, et je dis au vendeur avec un air innocent : C’est du faux ?
Il me regarde et me répond avec un sourire malicieux : Oui ! Mais c’est exactement pareil, la même chose que du vrai.
Je remonte mon le col de mon trench et je lui dis d’un air conspirateur : Mais c’est pas interdit par la loi ce que vous faites ?
Il me répond avec un clin d’oeil : Non, après 75 ans, le design tombe dans le domaine public. Ils ne peuvent pas garder leurs créations pour toujours les créateurs !

Je reste à peu près une demi-heure à regarder toutes ces copies. Certaines sont assez mal faites, mais d’autres font carrément illusion. L’espace d’une minute, je m’envole au paradis du design. Tout est beau et design, tout le monde est gentil et malicieux et fait des clins d’oeil et les chaises sont posées sur des nuages et coûtent 160$.

C’est en plein milieu de mon rêve que je rencontre Charles & Ray Eames, qui me disent : “Garance, tu te fous de notre gueule où quoi ?”

Je retombe dans la réalité, un petit magasin mal éclairé sur Broadway, et je dis au revoir. Non. Je ne peux pas faire ça… Parce qu’en fait, je l’ai déjà fait :

Flash back #1

Un jour pendant la fashion week de Londres il y a quelques années, on s’échappe quelques heures de la ronde des défilés avec deux copines journalistes pour aller se recueillir chez TopShop.

Là, je vois une veste sublime, au design manifestement emprunté à la dernière collection YSL qui m’avait tant plu. Rose de joie, je l’essaye en poussant des cris hystériques, quand soudain l’une de me copines me dit :

“Franchement j’aime bien TopShop, mais là c’est carrément de la copie. Je suis désolée, on ne peut pas faire ça au créateur. Qui plus est quand on travaille dans la mode et qu’on connaît pertinemment la collection.”

Je lève les yeux au ciel, et là je vois Stefano Pilati apparaître dans ma cabine d’essayage et me dire : Garance, tu te fous de ma gueule ?”

N’empêche. Légèrement vexée par la remarque cinglante de ma copine (en même temps heureusement qu’il y a des copines qui te mettent en face de tes conneries), j’achète quand même la veste, juste parce que je suis terriblement conne têtue.

Résultat : Jamais mise. Pas une fois. À chaque fois que je la regardais, je me sentais coupable de traîtrise. Bon en plus franchement la matière laissait grave à désirer. Elle était même pas belle, ma veste, c’était juste le succédané d’une veste qui elle, bien au chaud dans son magasin YSL, était vraiment sublime.

Conclusion : Fausse veste, vrai achat à la con. Ce qui n’est pas toujours le cas, écoutez ça.

Flash Back #2

J’ai en ma possession, depuis la nuit des temps, une copie sublime dont je ne connais pas du tout la provenance, la copie d’un Birkin.
Il est fait d’un cuir naturel beau, souple et est parfaitement vieilli. Il est fait dans un cuir qu’Hermès ne fait plus (on aura bientôt l’occasion de reparler des cuir Hermès…). Je l’adore.

N’empêche. Il est tellement beau qu’on m’arrête dans la rue pour m’en parler. Résultat, je me sens mal à l’aise si je ne raconte pas son histoire :

“Non mais c’est un faux. Oui… Il est beau. Un faux comme on n’en fait plus.”

Résultat : Évidemment, je ne le porte jamais.

Un faux reste un faux. Qu’il soit moche, ou sublime. Que les autres le sachent, ou seulement vous. Un faux reste un faux.

Pfffffff et ouais c’est l’ennuyeuse morale de l’histoire.

Allez, je vous laisse, j’ai 8000$ à aller économiser.

——-

PS : Je fais une vrai différence entre une copie manifeste et un vêtement juste “inspiré”, à la mode et dans l’air du temps… Et c’est pour ça que je continue d’adorer TopShop et Zara…

My summer sandals. Even more comfortable than the Rondini in the way they hold you feet. And with the NYC heat, you have to be a hero to wear heels ! They are from TopShop… !

I was so excited when I found them I want to buy two pairs… But this was the last one ! Too baaaaad ! Kisses !

PS : Say hello to … My feet ahah !

Chanel clogs, New York, Tuesday, February 16th 2010…

Clogs-boots-combats-brooms sweeping out the TopShop exits just outside the show, London, February 22nd 2010.

We’re still waiting on Milan and Paris. You think we should just admit defeat right away?

AaaaahahahahhAA!

Clogs are everywhere. They’re hiding as every other kind of shoe. And I mean really, what is a clog, truly? Oh no, I’ve lost my ability to speak. (Like that’s new, ahah), but I’m still saying that a wooden heel with studs, no matter what the shoe, still smells a little like a farm.

So.

And the worst, you know what’s the worst?

Oh man, the worst, you know what it is.

The worst is that I’ve started to like them just a little.

Grrrrmmuuummmblblblbmmmm.

The trend = 1, Garance = 0.

Big hugs!

Translation : Tim Sullivan.

Sabots-bottes-rangers-balais brosse TopShop sorties tout droit du défilé, Londres, le 22 février 2010.

On attends Milan et Paris où on s’avoue vaincues direct ?

AaaaahahahahhhAA !

Les sabots sont partout, ils se cachent sous toutes les formes de chaussures. D’ailleurs qu’est ce qu’un sabot, vraiment ? J’en perds mon français (comme si c’était nouveau ahah), mais je dirais que déjà une semelle en bois et des clous, sur n’importe quelle chaussure ça sent un légèrement le retour à la ferme.

Bref.

Et le pire, c’est quoi le pire ?

Bah le pire, vous le savez.

Le pire, c’est que je commence à trouver ça très charmant.

Grmummmblblblbmmm.

La tendance = 1, Garance = 0.

Bisou !

Pffff, for two days now, we’ve been getting weather that’s so typically London. Rain, grey skies… You could freeze out here!

That said, before the shows, everyone meets up at the TopShop Café. TopShop has a really active part in fashion week this year (Yeah, that’s the reason I’ve talked about them twice in a row… But after today, promise, no more!). The giant British brand sponsored tons of shows, released a lot of work by young designers, and injected a lot of money and energy into this year’s fashion week.

And offers a cozy little escape for the whole thirsty and hungry fashion crowd.

I love this stuff.

Carine Roitfeld and Carla Sozzani, in the middle of a conversation before the Marios Schwab show.

Tiffany, I love your look! And I want your trench.

I love this stuff. Part deux.

I’m getting that something’s going on with these trenches…

And off we go, a quick stop. It’s nice that the café is 10 feet from the next show.

Besides, it’s time for my latte. Big hugs! Bonne journée!

Translation : Tim Sullivan.

I just back from a tiny little stint in London and… Aaaahhh, I’ve got three things to tell you about, and none of them have anything to do with the others. Ok for you? Cool.

#1: Michelle.

Michelle is a lawyer and photographer. But during the week, she is surely a lawyer. I always forget how lucky I am to work in fashion: I get to dress exactly how I want. For Michelle, it’s not at all the same. She’s gotta be chic and respected at the same time while still respecting dress codes that’ll drive you crazy. But she works it out really well. Like take this year, she invested in this three piece suit by Sportmax. It’s pretty… Professional, yet still has an attitude*.

#2: Gloria.

Gloria is the fashion director of Teen Vogue and she dresses exactly the way she wants, but it’s really easy when you work in fashion to only wear frouffy clothes. But Gloria always knows how to find the perfect balance between cheap & chic. The shoes are from TopShop… and even WORSE for a fashionista, they’re from last year! Ooooooh man, rebel without a cause! Belle and rebel**!

#3: Hedi

Je rentre tout juste d’un micro-saut à Londres, et… Aaarrh. J’ai trois trucs à vous raconter qui n’ont absolument aucun rapport. C’est pas grave ? Ok. Cool.

#1 : Michelle.

Michelle est avocate et photographe. Mais la semaine, elle est surtout avocate. J’oublie souvent la chance que j’ai de bosser dans la mode : je m’habille exactement comme je veux. Pour Michelle, c’est pas du tout pareil. Elle doit être chic et en même temps respecter toute la semaine des codes vestimentaires qui la rendent un peu dingue. Mais je trouve qu’elle se débrouille super bien. Par exemple cette année elle a investi dans ce costume trois pièces Sportmax, c’est beau… Pro, mais avec attitude*.

#2 : Gloria.

Gloria est fashion director de Teen Vogue et elle s’habille exactement comme elle veut, mais c’est vite facile quand on bosse dans la mode de ne se retrouver habillée qu’en trucs super griffés. Mais Gloria sait toujours trouver le bon équilibre entre cheap & chic. Les chaussures sont de chez TopShop… Et encore PIIIIIIIRE pour une fashionista, sont de l’année dernière ! Oooouh la la la rebelle ! La belle et rebelle** !

#3 : Hedi.

Hedi is a photographer. He’s also one of the greatest designers of our time, a world all his own, like god-like in my eyes. Saturday, as I hop on the Eurostar, I see him, looking simple and sublime (all gods are sublime) in his camel duffle coat THAT I DIDN’T GET A PHOTO OF SO YOU’LL HAVE TO JUST CONSTRUCT YOUR OWN MENTAL IMAGE because even gods need a private life.

The only thing that I allowed myself to do was, a second after seeing him, was to shove out, “excuse me, I gotta get by, question of life and death” and push all of the peons out of the way who didn’t see what they had. I slid my way next to him amidst all the boarding craziness. I took my two hands together and tried to breathe in as much of his creative genius as a I could in as much time as I could steal.

Voilà. If I ever get the chance to really meet Hedi Slimane, no chance he’ll want to talk to me after reading this. What? Of course he reads my blog. Gods see everything. What did you think?!

Bonne journée!

——-

*”Professional, but with attitude.” : The two-bullet formula! What did I just say? Bahh… Ok, so in the end, I get what I’m saying. That’s what really matters, right?

** Belle and rebel.” : The most ridiculous formula in the world!

PS: Otherwise, the subject du jour that I totally missed: IT’S FRIGGIN’ COLD, WRAP YOURSELF UP IN A GIANT SOFT WOOL!!! Okay, off we go, there’s no helping me. Bonne journée!

Hey guess what, guess what!?  Discovery of the year: the women behind the scenes of style are just like us! Isn’t that the scoop to end all scoops?! Yeah, I know, I know, no need to thank me. Okay, so yeah, the real fact is that the recession has hit hard and no one is playing games anymore. But I was totally excited to learn that…

- They like to feel comfy. Big pants, long skirts, cotton sweatshirts, even the very body-con dresses we talked about last Friday are unbelievably comfortable. Fit the body well without constraining it… Even if it’s not on the catwalk, the spirit of Alaïa is definitely there.

- They kill themselves in the morning figuring out what to wear. And getting their photo taken in front of the runway shows totally stresses them out. Haha.

- They don’t have plastic feet. Even, sometimes, their feet hurt. Yeah. A friend in a pair of studded Louboutin Pigalle (the highest, most pointy, most surreal, and most beautiful of all stilettos) told me that she only wears them on days when she knows she’ll be at a max of 2 shows. And don’t forget, that’s with special soles and a bunch of band-aids. Her 2.55 was filled with them! Ouuuch!

- They don’t hesitate anymore to bring out the it-stuff from past years. A YSL bag from last year, in the end, doesn’t have a wrinkle on it. Tributes, big Lanvin jewelry, a pair of Spicy by Vuitton… A good excuse to reinvent their “old stuff.”  The only thing that has disappeared are the famous Balmain jackets from last year. Too much exposure? Tough to say. But I won’t be surprised if they make their comeback next year.

- They make babies. I love a pregnant fashionistas! There are a whole bunch all over the place and I can’t wait to show some of them to you!

- They shop at H&M, Zara and Topshop. The little Zara jackets with the padded shoulders are on everyone’s back and the Christopher Kane collection for Topshop got real hot: really, everything that I’ve seen of it is just so good that I can’t believe I didn’t have a second in London to go try it all on.

- They know how to be timeless. And we’re hitting an overdose on the 2.55. Unless it’s a special one: if it’s vintage, or tagged by a friend. Or if it’s green, blue, or red.

- When their luggage gets lost, they too, cry.

- They buy one or two super trendy accessories and never hesitate to wear them in a whole bunch of ways. Main choices this season: thigh-high boots, a bucket bag, or anything with studs.

Okay, but I still haven’t figured out the mystery of their perfect hair, their radiant skin after three weeks of marathons (I have to tell you about the real day of a stylist during fashion week. Really though, fashion is a career for the passionate.) and how they figure out, on top of all that, how to go to parties. I went to one on Saturday. I let myself lose a little. The result: I’m sick. Seriously now, how do they do it?

But after all, it’s not bad to leave a little mystery, don’t ya think? Okay, off we go. Mrs. Doré wishes you a nice day!

——

PS: Thanks to all who came out Saturday at Colette. I was so happy to meet all of you. You’re all so beautiful! Thank you for coming and for being so patient and friendly. And thank you to my teen friend as well, who waited just to tell me, “I really have no idea who you are, but when I see people lining up, it means it must be something to have your autograph. Could you sign there, please?” Hmmmm… My dear, I don’t know if you googled me and are now reading me, but thank you. You cracked me up!

Translation : Tim Sullivan

I’m developing a scandalously late obsession for leopard prints.

Telle que vous ne voyez pas, je suis en train de développer une obsession scandaleusement tardive pour l’imprimé léopard.

So here’s an example: right now, I’m in London, NOT AT ALL to go shopping (it’s not that there’s a lack of desire, but DO I REALLY NEED TO SAY THAT?) and I walked passed TopShop. I took a deep breath just to fill my lungs with that air, polluted by consumption, that I love so very much. I’M NOT HERE TO GO SHOPPING, SO (breathe, Garance, breathe) but I did manage to find my way to the back of a vintage boutique trying to get my feet into a pair of leopard Alaïa heels in a size 38, a size that I might have been able to fit into for a month between the ages of 11 and 11 and a quarter. They had a perfectly acceptable price (250€! Alaïa! It’s a gift!) (oh come on), and then I found a pair of leopard print pants as well, in a size 36 small, which I maybe could have squeezed into during the heat wave in 2003.

You can’t put vintage Alaïa in the display window, it’s an attack on shopping-prudishness. It’s just mean.

Hum… I think if you read the paragraph up top, you’ll understand just how much this print makes me hysterical.

Therefore, I’m giving you a break, just a quick second now, before I tell you this next thing…

BECAUSE LISTEN, the MIXING of leopard prints is even stronger than Alaïa. THE MIXING of leopard prints.  THE MIXING OF LEOPARD PRINTS! The mixing. Of leopard. Prints.

I mean like… whoa.

Am I right?

Translation : Tim Sullivan

Par exemple là je suis à Londres, pas DU TOUT pour faire du shopping (c’est pas l’envie qui m’en manque, AIS-JE BESOIN DE LE PRÉCISER) (quand je suis passée devant le TopShop, j’ai respiré un grand coup. Juste pour humer un tout petit bol de cet air vicié par la consommation que j’aime tant) PAS DU TOUT POUR FAIRE DU SHOPPING, DONC (respire, Garance, respire), et j’ai trouvé le moyen de me retrouver au fin fond d’une boutique vintage a essayer de faire rentrer mes pieds dans une paire de talons Alaïa léopard divins en 38, une pointure que j’ai dû faire pendant environ un mois entre 11 ans et 11 ans 1/4, à un prix parfaitement acceptable (250€ ! Alaïa ! DONNÉ !) (Mais voyons), ainsi qu’un pantalon imprimé léopard dans un micro-36 (une taille que j’ai fait pendant une semaine pendant la canicule de 2003).

Et le tout alors qu’on m’attendait dehors. Mais mettre les Alaïa en vitrine, c’est un attentat à la shopping-pudeur.

Je pense qu’à lire le paragraphe apnéique ci-dessus vous compris à quel point cet imprimé me rend hystérique.

En conséquent, je vous accorde donc une seconde de pause avant ce qui va…

PARCE QU’ALORS, le MÉLANGE d’imprimés léopard, là c’est encore plus fort qu’Alaïa. LE MÉLANGE d’imprimés léopard. LE MÉLANGE D’IMPRIMÉS LÉOPARD ! Le mélange. D’imprimés. Léopard.

Wow, quoi.

Nan ?

Five ultra girly things I did this week:

+ Went to go get some flats as I knew I would be walking around all day, cracked and bought a pair of stilettos. I then walked around in them all day.  Night rolls around and you could’ve given me some Uggs still would have been kissing your feet.

+ Ordered steamed salmon and a coffee at a restaurant and then proceeded to eat half a jar of nutella when I got home.

+ Decided it was spring already, put on a light little skirt and took myself for a walk. It was not at all the springtime I was expecting. You guys have any Kleenex? Something for a red nose? Watery eyes?

+ Wanted to paint my nails coral to celebrate spring’s arrival with my feet, even if I still had my winter shoes on. The beautician promised me that thanks to their magic little machine, they’d be dry in 20 minutes flat, that I could put my shoes right back on without smudging the polish. She lied.

+ I have officially put a restraining order on myself. I must at all times keep a 20 foot perimeter between me and a bag that Sofia Coppola did for Louis Vuitton because of the risk of potential irresistibility. I passed by Louis Vuitton and I just couldn’t do it. I asked to see one a little closer. The blue one, thank you. Yes, in suede. More than $3,000. So now I’ve expanded the red zone to four acres.

Naaaan. TopShop doesn’t count. That was last Saturday. Okay, I’ll let you go and I’m off to rehab.

Translation : Tim Padraic Sullivan