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76

HUSH LITTLE BABY DON’T YOU CRY

A story about second chances and active imaginations Photography Bruce Weber Words Edwidge Danticat 92

BIRTH RIGHTS

Anne Hathaway on embracing new family structures 94

COSMOTROPOLIS

The new looks, faces, shapes, and silhouettes of the season Photography Jean-Baptiste Mondino 106

RYUICHI SAKAMOTO

Reflections on the man behind the music Words Ryu- Murakami 110

ELSA

A celebration of the style icon who broke all the rules Photography Kacper Kasprzyk 126

MANIMALS

Pigs are just like us—and they’re moving right in Photography David Armstrong Words William Hedgepeth 128

STRIKE

The season’s haute couture collections are charged with the energy of revolt Photography Luca Guadagnino 140

WHEN WOMEN WERE FRENCH

Three supermodels transform into Gallic beauties, while Karl Lagerfeld muses on the essence of Frenchness Photography and words Karl Lagerfeld 148

NEWBORNS

New models for a new season Photography Michael Avedon 154

HOW DO HUE DO?

Fall accessories ignite the color spectrum Photography Brigitte Niedermair 160

COUTURE DIARY

An album of stolen moments from the Fall/Winter shows Photography Michael Avedon

Cover and introduction photography BRUCE WEBER Opposite page: Kate Upton wears Slip CARINE GILSON Skirt CALVIN KLEIN COLLECTION Tiara OSCAR DE LA RENTA

CR FASHION BOOK

Founder / Editor-in-Chief CARINE ROITFELD President, Fashion Media Group / Design Director STEPHEN GAN Editorial Director CHRISTOPHER BARTLEY Art Directors PIERRE CONSORTI ZACHARY OHLMAN Managing Editor STEVEN CHAIKEN Director of Art & Film DOMINIC TEJA SIDHU Senior Fashion Editor MICHAELA DOSAMANTES Market & Beauty Director SHIONA TURINI Bookings Director VICTORIA BRYNNER Bookings Bureau STEPHENIE FERNANDEZ / STARDUST VISIONS Casting Director PIERGIORGIO DEL MORO Publisher JORGE GARCIA Advertising Director GIORGIO PACE Advertising Coordinator VICKY BENITES Financial Comptroller SOORAYA PARIAG Production Director MELISSA SCRAGG Production Assistant GLORIA KIM Distribution DAVID RENARD Assistant Comptrollers FARZANA KHAN MARISSA NICOLO Communications ANUSCHKA SENGE / SYNDICATE MEDIA GROUP Online Editor ANI TZENKOVA Copy Editors TRACI PARKS JEREMY PRICE ANNE RESNIK Fashion Assistants HANNAH BIBB VINCENT CIARLARIELLO AUDREY TAILLÉE Interns EMILIA BÖRJESSON JAYEON CHUNG AUDREY GREENE DORIAN GRINSPAN TAHIRAH HAIRSTON ANDRÉ HERRERO CLÉMENCE JOYE LOUISE STOLT-NIELSEN HOLTEN

SPECIAL THANKS CECILIA DEAN JAMES KALIARDOS TODD KAMELHAR CLAUDINE MEREDITH-GOUJON LINDSEY SILBER NEALE ALBERT MOVING IMAGE & CONTENT KING & PARTNERS STANDARD EAST ANDRÉ BALAZS LUCY McINTYRE FABIEN CONSTANT RAPHAEL LASKI LAURENT RODRIGUEZ HYANCINTE LAPIN JULIAN ANTETOMASO JEREMIE ROUMILHAC SOFIYA SHRAYBER ALLAN KENT CHRISTIAN RESTOIN JULIA RESTOIN ROITFELD VLADIMIR RESTOIN ROITFELD THANKS 303 GALLERY SWAMI AMRITASWARUPANANDA ALAN ANDERSON GUERLYNE ANTOINE XAVIER ARIAS CHAD ARROGANTE OLIVER BAMPFYLDE JOHN BARBER LOUIS BASQUIAT SILA BERRUTI TIMOTHY BIEL BIG SKY STUDIOS AARON BINACCO JENNY BLANEY BLOSSOM STREET STUDIOS JENNY BOYCE BOX NICK BRANDRETH CHARLES BRODERSON EDWIGE BULTINCK SUZAN BYMEL SOPHIE CALDER NOEL CAMARDO AI CHOI CHARLÉNE COCARD ALBERTO MARIA COLOMBO MEGGIE COUSLAND MEGHAN CZERWINSKI PASCAL DANGIN DTOUCH FREDERIC DAVID CLEMENCE DEMESME REONA DEN JOE DiGIOVANNA ADAM DIXON CHRIS DOMURAT RACHAEL DOVE VALERIE DURADO EMPIRE KATHRYN ERDMAN JENNIFER FARLEY ILENE FELDMAN TIFFANY FERGUSON BALDOMERO FERNANDEZ MEGHAN FITZGERALD HIDETAKA FURUYA CASEY GEREN JOSEPH GIACONA RON GIBBS CHRIS GRUNDER SHAUN HARTAS CYNDIA HARVEY MERRILEE HEIFETZ JUAN HEREDIA STEPHEN HUVANE RYOKO IWAGAKI JANVIER TONY JAY ROBERT JEAN DONN JONES WILLIAM KAHN TOMOMI KAWAGUCHI PHILLIPPA KAYE JOHNNY KNAPP JAY KWAN EDWARD LAMPLEY JOHNNY LAW OLIVIER LOOREN ERWIN MAURICIO LOPEZ ROBERT LOW KEVIN MacCARTHY TOM MARQUARDT RUDY MARTINS MAR Y SOUL SIONA McCLENAGHAN LOUKA MELIAVA MATTEO MIANI MILK STUDIOS JOE MILLER LARA MODJESKI BRETT MOEN ALIX MURAT MICHAEL MURPHY CLIFFORD MURRAY THAO NGUYEN TOM O’CONNELL DANILO OMO NICHOLAS ONG MIHARU OSHIMA TIFFANI PATCHETT ROBERTO PATELLA SIMON PERRY PIER 59 STUDIOS PILAR CORRIAS GALLERY JAMES POGUE ANNIE POWERS QUADRIGA ASH REYNOLDS BROOK RUNYAN DEBORAH SADOUN IRINA SADOVNIC OLIVIER SAILLANT ROB SIDON JAMES SIMMONS ZOE SINCLAIR SMASHBOX DIGITAL BERNWARD SOLLICH NORIKA SORA KRISTEN SORACE LISA SPELLMAN VALERIE STEELE JACK STEVENS STUDIO DAYLIGHT SUN STUDIOS ATSUKO SUZUKI MARU TEPPEI TITAN BOOKS KHELA TYSON VANESSA VASQUEZ KRISTINA VIDIC AYA WATANABE ROSIE WELSH PAUL WHITFIELD BRITNEY WILLIAMS TAKASHI YUSA ALBERTO ZANETTI THE “CR FASHION BOOK” TRADEMARK IS USED BY FASHION MEDIA GROUP LLC UNDER LICENSE FROM ITS OWNER. COPYRIGHT 2012 FASHION MEDIA GROUP LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PRINTED IN U.S.A. CR FASHION BOOK (BIPAD 96493) IS PUBLISHED BIANNUALLY BY FASHION MEDIA GROUP LLC. PRINCIPAL OFFICE: 25 COOPER SQUARE, NEW YORK, NY, 10003. POSTMASTER: SEND ADDRESS CHANGES TO SPEEDIMPEX, 35-02 48TH AVENUE, LONG ISLAND CITY, NY, 11011. FOR SUBSCRIPTIONS, ADDRESS CHANGES, AND ADJUSTMENTS, PLEASE CONTACT SPEEDIMPEX, 35-02 48TH AVENUE, LONG ISLAND CITY, NY, 11011. TEL: 800.969.1258.

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A story about second chances and active imaginations Photography BRUCE WEBER Words EDWIDGE DANTICAT 76

When I was a little girl in Haiti, whenever my friends and I would get a new doll (often a white one), we would always have a doll baptism.

From left: Kate Upton wears Coat CHLOÉ Dress LEG AVENUE Shoes (throughout) MANOLO BLAHNIK Socks (throughout) AMERICAN APPAREL Audrey Harrelson wears Tutu CAPEZIO Shoes (throughout) REPETTO Socks (throughout) AMERICAN APPAREL

We would gather all our friends together to introduce our new doll to our tribe.

Kate wears Dress LEG AVENUE

Then we would choose two of our most special friends to be the godfather and godmother.

Kate wears Dress ALEXANDER McQUEEN Tiara OSCAR DE LA RENTA Apron and wings vintage

Sometimes the godparents were other little boys and girls, but other times, we chose adults as godparents because they could afford the cola and cookies needed for the baptism reception.

Kate wears Coat JIL SANDER Tutu MISS PRISS TUTUS Dress LEG AVENUE

Sometimes we would want to keep our doll so close, we would assign no one—not even our beloved brother—to be the father.

Kate wears Coat JONATHAN SAUNDERS Dress LEG AVENUE Tutus MISS PRISS TUTUS

And we would say, if anyone asked, that the family pet or one of our stuffed animals was the father because they would not be competing with us for playtime with our doll.

Audrey wears Dress MISS PRISS TUTUS

For a while, it was almost as if our doll was alive.

On hair, FEKKAI Advanced PrX Reparatives Conditioner

As alive as a flock of birds.

Or a litter of puppies, or a cloud of butterflies, or a real baby.

On skin, LA MER The Moisturizing Soft Cream Fragrance BALENCIAGA Florabotanica

And we imagined and we dreamed what it might be like to one day be mothers to mules or monkeys or unicorns or to real babies who would wail, and moan, and look like us.

–Edwidge Danticat, “Doll Baptism,” 2012 Makeup REGINE THORRE Hair DIDIER MALIGE for Frédéric Fekkai Talent Wyatt Opalka, Ethan Schwartz, Tanner Hopkins, Joell Fernandes, Pax Raitan, Chloe Demesmin-O’Neil, Simone Zicki, Kyla Lam, Paisley Marrone, Dallas Smith, Lily Gurdian (World of Kids), Michael Heverly Set design Tom Criswell (Mary Howard Studio) Little Bear producer Jeannette Shaheen Casting Gwen Walberg Production coordinator Dawn Boller Animals provided by Little Critters and Jaimes Rescue Puppies

F

ertility isn’t just about birthin’ babies, Miss Scarlett.

At its most robust definition, it also exists in our minds, in our hearts’ ability to empathize, and in the kindness and honesty of our shared perspective. But for many, the word conjures images of babies.

I was recently confronted with the issue of my own biological fertility in an unexpected way: routine blood tests revealed a hormone deficiency which my doctor concluded would make it unlikely that I could conceive, unless I made some lifestyle changes. This is not as dramatic as it sounds.

At least my doctor wasn’t too concerned. I’d just been through a physically intense ordeal on a film and all previous tests had shown I was fine in that department. I hadn’t planned on getting pregnant at that time, and as I am not yet 30, there was no ticking clock. However, I found it hard to take that in that moment my body was an inhospitable environment for an embryo.

Perhaps because the thought of not being able to have children is too painful for most people to think about—I know it is for me—we err on the side of optimism and take our ability to procreate as a given. We think, Of course it’ll happen to me, or in my case, I really, really want it someday, but please don’t let it happen now, okay? After all, we are told that just as there is a time in our lives when everyone will get married, there is also a time when everyone will start having kids. Many of us fall into the habit of assuming and trusting that what we are told will come to pass will indeed come to pass. And how else could we live? How else could we handle all the giga-mega-terabytes of information we encounter every day without losing our minds? Could it actually be a new aspect of survival to skim the surface of certain ideas, avoiding going deeper and thus protecting our sanity?

I don’t think that is a fair trade.

In fact, I’m coming to realize this could be an incredibly reckless, terrible plan.

Assumptions are the death of mental fertility. Assumptions allow ideas to go unexamined and unchallenged, a very dangerous thing. They also keep conversations constricted to the surface, which in turn keeps some people trapped in fear of openly communicating and exploring their authentic selves. They keep people from questioning their most deeply held beliefs, something crucial to growth—which, for my money, is the reason why we are here—and arguably worst of all, making and/or trusting assumptions causes one’s brain to become numb to the exquisite details of life. And yet, for all its negative potential, it denotes privilege. For example, half of my friends are gay, and so is one-third of my

immediate family. It’s most definitely not a given that they will be able to get married where they choose, nor can one assume that should they want to have children they will be allowed, as adoption and surrogacy are both prohibitively expensive and prone to human bias. Even before the aforementioned hormone episode, it had long been a dream of mine to adopt children. It is a fair assumption that I, a heterosexual white woman could far more easily adopt than could Marcus, a gay black friend of mine who recently married (in New York). I find that fact excruciatingly painful and unfair, especially when one could argue that age-appropriate gay people are uniquely well-suited to being parents: being exposed to the bigotry that many of these individuals encounter can lead to the development of great compassion and magnanimity, two key human traits worth passing on to the next generation (and ones which, incidentally, Marcus has in abundance).

I am happy to say my hormone situation has been reversed; awkward and earnest though it sounds, I can say that I am once again “fertile.” Now I want to raise my children, however they come to me, in a world free of any belief system that includes the idea of a “lesser than”; I believe this is the kind of thinking that allows humans to do evil to each other. I want to raise my children in a fertile world, abundant in love and intelligence. I’m not naïve; I know the nitty-gritty reality that there are people out there scared to death of change, desperately clinging to old assumptions that have been handed down from generation to tragically bigoted generation. I feel if one is lucky enough to have been born or have grown free of this inheritance, one’s attitude toward those who have not been so fortunate should be that of patience, not scorn. Although it rocks me to my core that there are those who seek to exclude others from the organic processes of love and life— an unnecessary and limiting urge insulting to the infinite potential of this insanely beautiful human race—I do not yet see a horizon in which this instinct is no more. But as long as we strive to make our individual and collective consciousness into a kind, fair, and fertile place, and we fearlessly commit to thinking for ourselves, ignorance and hate will exit the world and healing will surely thrive. Your family may be mommy-daddy, mom-my-mommy, daddy-daddy, or have a single parent, but the new alternative family is the thinking family.

I look forward to the future, which I hope will include my friend Marcus’s glorious, someday-soon children making nice with my own.

Let’s just hope they aren’t all brats.

Opposite page: Nan Goldin, Lily kissing herself in the mirror, NYC, 1991 Courtesy the artist

Words ANNE HATHAWAY Artwork NAN GOLDIN 93

Photography JEAN-BAPTISTE MONDINO

94

Opposite page: Stef Van Der Laan wears Sweater BELSTAFF Earrings and rings (on pinky and index fingers) REPOSSI Necklace, bracelet, rings (on ring and middle fingers) CHANEL FINE JEWELRY Grills DR.DOLL’ART On skin, LA MER The Definitive Crème This page: Cara Delevingne wears Dress with attached hood, face mask, socks, clogs COMME DES GARÇONS Bag PRADA

Ava Smith wears Jumpsuit VALENTINO Shoes CÉLINE Clutch BOTTEGA VENETA Rodrigo wears Clothing GIVENCHY

BY RICCARDO TISCI Cara wears Jacket and skirt LOEWE Shoes CÉLINE

Cora Emmanuel and Magda Laguinge wear Clothing and accessories AZZEDINE ALAĂ?A (collection available at Barneys New York) Tights (throughout) FALKE

This spread, from left: Cara wears Clothing J.W. ANDERSON Shoes PRADA Cora wears Top LUCAS NASCIMENTO Leggings HOUSE OF HARLOT Shoes GIORGIO ARMANI Ava wears Jacket and pants THOMAS TAIT Shoes PIERRE HARDY Daniela Braga wears Dress BARBARA CASASOLA Headband DOLCE & GABBANA Shoes PRADA Xiao Wen Ju wears Top and dickey CÉDRIC CHARLIER Shorts DIESEL Shoes PRADA Bag CÉLINE Magda wears Coat GABRIELE COLANGELO Leggings HOUSE OF HARLOT Shoes J.W. ANDERSON Rodrigo wears Clothing GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI

Opposite page, from left: Daniela wears Skirt CALLALILAI Gloves FELIPE OLIVEIRA BAPTISTA Bag CHLOÉ Scarf HERMÈS Magda wears Sweater and bustier VERSACE Briefs NORMA KAMALI On eyes, TOM FORD Noir Absolute for Eyes This page: Xiao wears Top PROENZA SCHOULER Shorts DIESEL Bag LOEWE Shoes BRIAN ATWOOD

This spread, from left: Ymre Stiekema wears Jacket FENDI Bodysuit FALKE Shorts Y-3 Mask RICK OWENS Bag and boots GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI Simone Nobili wears Clothing and shoes RICK OWENS Stef wears Jacket FENDI Handbag GUCCI Shoes IRIS VAN HERPEN Anmari Botha wears Dress and shoes IRIS VAN HERPEN Marte Mei Van Haaster wears Dress KANYE WEST Bag GUCCI Shoes DIOR Grace Bol wears Jacket JULIAN DAVID Top JOIE Skirt EDUN Boots GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI

This page, from left: Ava wears Sweater, pants, scarf CÉLINE Sandals SERGIO ROSSI Robinho wears Jeans DIESEL Opposite page, from left: Marie Piovesan wears Clothing, headband, earrings DOLCE & GABBANA Bag CÉLINE Leather leg warmers SERGIO ROSSI Pointe shoes CAPEZIO Ymre wears Dress, headband, earrings DOLCE & GABBANA Boots SERGIO ROSSI Makeup GEMMA SMITH-EDHOUSE Hair MARC LOPEZ Digital technician Matteo Miani (DTouch) Manicure Huberte Cesarion (Abtp) and Brenda Abrial On-set producer Mia Meliava (Stardust Visions) Retouching Stéphane Virlogeux (Janvier) Location and equipment rental Studio Daylight, Paris

– Words RYU MURAKAMI

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106

Ryuichi Sakamoto, 1983, by Andy Warhol

© 2012 THE ANDY WARHOL FOUNDATION FOR THE VISUAL ARTS, INC. / ARTISTS RIGHTS SOCIETY (ARS), NEW YORK

Ryuichi Sakamoto, 1983, by Andy Warhol © 2012 THE ANDY WARHOL FOUNDATION FOR THE VISUAL ARTS, INC. / ARTISTS RIGHTS SOCIETY (ARS), NEW YORK

THE KING OF CONTEMPORARY CLASSICAL IS ALSO THE KING OF MINIMAL COMPOSITION AND THE KING OF COOL. EVER SINCE HIS STAR TURN ACTING IN AND COMPOSING THE SCORE FOR NAGISA OSHIMA’S ICONIC 1983 FILM MERRY CHRISTMAS MR. LAWRENCE, RYUICHI SAKAMOTO HAS SERVED AS AN ENDURING FORCE OF MUSIC. THIS FALL, HE RELEASES THREE, A SERIES OF NEW PIECES

BY HIS PIANO TRIO. HERE, HIS DEAR FRIEND THE NOVELIST – RYU MURAKAMI RECALLS THEIR TIMES TOGETHER I first met Ryuichi Sakamoto some 32 years ago. A mutual acquaintance introduced us over dinner, and not long afterward Sakamoto came to my house on his own to record an interview for his radio show. He had recently released the albums B2-Unit and Left Handed Dream, and I’d just published my novel Coin Locker Babies. We were both 28.

Most people referred to him by the nickname he’d already acquired— “Professor”—but I immediately thought of him as a classmate and decided to call him by his family name, Sakamoto. Though we were introduced as musician and novelist, I had the strange, nostalgic feeling that I’d known him since middle or high school. It feels natural to call him by his last name only, as classmates do, because I’m sure he and I would have become friends at any age.

If I had to describe Sakamoto in one word, it would be “shy.” When he talks, it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. His words are always logical enough but delivered in a mumble that barely escapes his mouth, and you have to concentrate to catch them all. I’m not sure that this way of speaking is directly related to his shyness, however. And it certainly isn’t that he lacks communication skills. Maybe it’s just a drag for him to use words. He finds conversation tiresome, I imagine, because he knows better than anyone that true communication is difficult, and at times impossible.

But Sakamoto’s shyness is on full display when he expresses himself musically. His compositions, which vary in style from classical to techno to hip-hop, all exhibit tremendous “precision and restraint.” This is an expression I lifted from the great film director Jean-Luc Godard, whom I once had the honor of interviewing. When Godard uttered the words, I thought immediately of Sakamoto’s music.

“Music is autonomous,” Sakamoto once said. I like that quote. What he meant was that his medium isn’t a tool to be used to support social or political movements. When I listen to his work, I find myself wondering if in fact music hasn’t existed since before the birth of humanity, in the murmuring of wind and waves, the cries of birds and beasts, and all the other natural sounds of the Earth. The same thought occurs to me when I listen to Bach and Mozart. Their music doesn’t seem to have been created, but to have always existed, as a quality of the universe.

In any case, Sakamoto has always respected the autonomy of his art, rather than catering to his fans. From the time of his debut, way back when, all the way through to 2009’s Out of Noise, the relationship of the artist to his audience has been marked by a kind of benign indifference.

The only exceptions are his musical scores. A film’s director has some influence on the tone of the score, of course, which may account for the hint of romanticism that colors the “precision and restraint” in Sakamoto’s scores for Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (1983), The Last Emperor (1987), and The Sheltering Sky (1990).

Personally, I think his greatest masterpiece might be 2010’s Concerto for Koto and Orchestra. Divided into four movements, the concerto evokes the seasons—winter, spring, summer, fall—with images of stillness and quickening, budding and birth, growth, and twilight, darkness, death. In this sense, the piece transcends its framework of minimal music.

It’s as if needles of emotion have pricked the fabric of “precision and restraint” and woven in threads of romanticism.

The concerto is a requiem for Sakamoto’s late mother. Listening to all four movements, I can feel the affection and sorrow driving them, and I find myself remembering that dignified lady, whom I met a number of times. His mother showed up for every concert he performed and for the premiere of every movie he scored. One winter’s night many years ago, we all emerged from the Sheltering Sky premiere to find a cold rain falling. Because I had driven to the theater, I offered Sakamoto’s mother a ride. Head high, spine erect, she thanked me and said that wouldn’t be necessary. “I’ll just walk to the station,” she said. Declining to rely on anyone else, she gave a little bow and marched off alone in the winter rain. Watching her, I felt I understood something important about Sakamoto’s upbringing.

Ryuichi Sakamoto is presently lending his energies to environmental and antinuclear activism. His shyness, just like the precision and restraint of his compositions, is based solidly on his respect for intellectual freedom and social justice. And I know that’s never going to change.

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Translated from Japanese by Ralph F. McCarthy

An ode to the fearless woman who broke every rule of style only to define an entire era of it. The essence of chic, the embodiment of excess, this was and is Elsa Peretti Photography KACPER KASPRZYK 110

Catherine McNeil wears Gown GIORGIO ARMANI “Bone” cuff by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO. Sunglasses BALENCIAGA

Gown GUCCI “Scorpion” necklace by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO. Fragrance GUCCI Première

IT WAS ONLY SIX WEEKS AFTER HALSTON’S MOVE TO THE OLYMPIC TOWER THAT HE HAD A PENULTIMATE FALLING OUT WITH ELSA PERETTI. RELATIONS BETWEEN PERETTI AND HALSTON CONTINUED TO BE STRAINED, WITH VICTOR [HUGO, HALSTON’S LOVER] CARRYING TALES BETWEEN THEM AND FANNING THE FLAMES OF THEIR JEALOUSIES. JOE EULA REMEMBERED THAT ONE SNOWY WINTER’S NIGHT IN 1978, “THE THREE OF US WERE HAVING DINNER AND ELSA WAS HAVING PROBLEMS. ELSA WAS TRULY IN LOVE WITH HALSTON AND SHE WAS STARTING TO FEEL HER OATS, BECAUSE SHE HAD BECOME A BIG STAR IN HER OWN RIGHT. HALSTON WAS CRITICIZING HER STUFF AND SAYING SHE WASN’T WORKING AND THEY WERE BOTH HAVING PROBLEMS WITH VICTOR. SO WE WERE INVITED TO DINNER TO SEE IF WE COULD CALM OURSELVES ALL DOWN BECAUSE HE AND ELSA WERE REALLY OPENLY DUELING. IT WAS A VERY SIMPLE DINNER OF CAVIAR, BAKED POTATO, AND COCAINE. IT WAS ALWAYS THE SAME—CAVIAR WITH WATERCRESS, CHAMPAGNE, AND COKE.” WITH THAT MENU IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG FOR DINNER TO DISSOLVE INTO A SCREAMING FIGHT. “AFTER THE FIRST DOZEN TIFFANY GLASSES HAD BEEN BROKEN WITH ELSA YELLING, ‘YOU DON’T LOVE ME AND I LOVE YOU AND YOU HAVE NO SENSITIVITY AND YOU’RE ALL FOR YOURSELF. I HATE YOU, YOU CAN’T THINK OF ANYONE BUT YOURSELF, ALL YOU THINK OF IS THE MATERIAL THINGS IN THE WORLD,’ SHE YELLED, ‘I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT I THINK OF ALL YOUR MATERIAL THINGS!’” BEFORE HALSTON OR EULA COULD MOVE, PERETTI DASHED ACROSS THE ROOM AND SNATCHED HER SABLE COAT THAT HALSTON HAD GIVEN HER FOR CHRISTMAS FROM ONE OF THE FUTONS AND THREW IT INTO THE ROARING FIREPLACE. “IT MUST HAVE BEEN A VERY DRY OLD FUCKING SABLE BECAUSE BEFORE I COULD GET TO IT IT WAS NOTHING BUT FLAMES,” EULA RECALLED. AS THE FUR WENT UP IN A BLAZE HALSTON STAGGERED TO THE LANDING, “ABSOLUTELY CATATONIC, SHOCKED,” SAID EULA, WHO STARTED LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY. “I THOUGHT IT WAS THE FUNNIEST THING.” PERETTI NOW DEMANDED THAT EULA TAKE HER HOME IMMEDIATELY, AND IN HER CONFUSION SHE BEGAN TO LOOK AROUND FOR HER COAT, WHICH WAS ON FIRE. “I THREW MY OWN COAT ON HER,” SAID EULA, “AND I TOOK HER SCARF AND WRAPPED IT AROUND ME AND WE WENT OUT IN THE SNOW. WE WENT TO HER PLACE AND DRANK TWO BOTTLES OF CHAMPAGNE AND CONTINUED TO GET DRUNK AND STONED UNTIL THE NEXT DAY WE LAUGHED AT THE WHOLE THING.” THREE MONTHS LATER, ON APRIL 14, 1978, HALSTON AND PERETTI RAN INTO EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE BASEMENT AT STUDIO 54. AS RECOUNTED IN DETAIL IN BOB COLACELLO’S BOOK ON WARHOL, HOLY TERROR, PERETTI REPORTEDLY MISUNDERSTOOD WHEN [STEVE] RUBELL CALLED HER “HONEYPIE” AND TOOK OFFENSE AND BEGAN SNARLING AND CURSING AT HIM. WHEN HALSTON TRIED TO CALM HER DOWN, PERETTI SCREAMED AT HIM, “I AM NOT GOING TO BE THROWN OUT OF A BASEMENT BY A FAGGOT QUEEN LIKE YOU! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A NO-CULTURE CHEAP FAGGOT DRESSMAKER.” COLACELLO REPORTED THAT HALSTON REPLIED, “AND YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A LOW-CLASS CHEAP JEWELRY DESIGNER FOR TIFFANY.” PERETTI THEN BEGAN TO CHANT “FAGGOT, FAGGOT, FAGGOT” AT HALSTON AS SHE POURED A BOTTLE OF VODKA OVER HIS $600 SHOES, SMASHED THE EMPTY BOTTLE ON THE FLOOR, AND THEN SMASHED HERSELF ON TOP OF THE SHARDS AS SHE WEPT, “I’VE DONE IT! I’M FINISHED WITH THEM! I’M FINALLY FREE!” SHE FELL ASLEEP EXHAUSTED IN A CORNER UNTIL COLACELLO WOKE HER LATER AND TOOK HER HOME AT 5 A.M. IT WAS, FOR ALL PRACTICAL PURPOSES, THE END OF THEIR FRIENDSHIP. —EXCERPT FROM SIMPLY HALSTON: THE UNTOLD STORY (1991) BY STEVEN GAINES

Jacket and pants GIORGIO ARMANI “Bone” cuff, “Scorpion” necklace, ring by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO. Sunglasses BALENCIAGA

Coat and pants RALPH LAUREN COLLECTION Shoes HERMÈS “Scorpion” necklace by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO.

Jacket and skirt HERMÈS Tank JEAN COLONNA

Blazer, jacket, pants MIU MIU Jewelry DAVID YURMAN Sunglasses BALENCIAGA

Catherine wears Coat GUCCI Bag BALENCIAGA BY NICOLAS GHESQUIÈRE Sunglasses BALENCIAGA Matthew Avedon wears Robe OLATZ

Jumpsuit MAX MARA “Scorpion” necklace by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO.

Cardigan, skirt, python boots TOM FORD “Scorpion” necklace by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO. Fur blanket ADRIENNE LANDAU

Coat DIANE VON FURSTENBERG “Bone” cuffs and “Scorpion” necklace

by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO.

Jacket CHANEL Bunny ears JENNIFER BEHR “Bone” cuff by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO. Shoes AQUAZZURRA Fur blanket ADRIENNE LANDAU A New York architectural landmark designed by Paul Rudolph, 101 E. 63rd Street is the former home of Halston, Gianni Agnelli, and most recently Gunter Sachs.

It is currently for sale by the Corcoran Group for the first time in 23 years.

Visit corcoran.com for details Makeup ALICE LANE Hair DIDIER MALIGE for Frédéric Fekkai Manicure Gina Viviano for Chanel Set design Steve Halterman On-set producer Chris Bradford (Stardust Visions) Special thanks Bonnie Pfeifer and Chazz Levi (Corcoran) Mid-century glass courtesy The End of History (theendofhistoryshop.blogspot. com); Rugs courtesy ABC Carpet & Home and Mantiques Modern (mantiquesmodern. com); Baccarat available at Baccarat boutiques (1.800.777.0100; baccarat.com) and propsfortoday.com

Photography DAVID ARMSTRONG Words WILLIAM HEDGEPETH

SUDDENLY IT SEEMS PIGS ARE THE ANIMAL COMPANIONS DE RIGUEUR. BUT AS WILLIAM HEDGEPETH EXPLAINS, HUMAN-HOG RELATIONS ARE DEEPLY ROOTED IN HISTORY, RELIGION, AND PHYSIOLOGY. QUITE SIMPLY, THEY’RE A LOT LIKE US

A

las, we come once again to the Big Pig Paradox.“Pig!” If someone calls you that, it’s almost never meant, or taken, in a kindly way. It is unmistakably pejorative, as opposed to, say, being called a horse or a kangaroo.

There are, in fact, more pig-related expressions than ones involving any other animal—at least in the English language—and most of them are similes for insulting a person: “fat as a pig,” “dirty as,” “lazy as,” and so on.

And yet, in the course of our historical continuity upon the earth, the paths of people and pigs continually intersect on deeply spiritual levels.

Pigs have served as objects of widespread reverence and deeply pious thoughts, and have often been endowed with supernatural powers.

More than any other animal, the pig has been held up as a substitute for man. In ancient rituals of Greece, Egypt, and Rome, the sacrificing of humans gave way to the next most potent offering—a beast associated with divinity, death, and rebirth, which often meant the pig. Among pig-related mythologies observed in totally unrelated parts of the world, there exists, in one way or another, a mystical bond between hogritude and humanity, in which the pig symbolizes the imperishable.

One of the occupational hazards of being an ancient god was death by wild boar. Adonis, worshipped by the Greeks, was killed by one while hunting, as was Attis, a Greek god of vegetation. And in both cases, the murdering beast became the embodiment of its victim and was thereafter worshipped as a deity itself. In annual rituals, pigs were slain as representatives of these gods and consumed sacramentally.

Pig divinity among Egyptians was such that the ordinary pig was regarded as untouchable. If an Egyptian so much as brushed shoulders with a pig, he was obliged to step into the Nile to wash off the taint of contact with a sacred animal.

The intricate connection between pigs and deities extends across the world. In India, the Hindu mother-goddess Kali is often represented as a black sow. A Buddhist sutra from about 1520 describes the Hindu trinity of Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva borne through the clouds in a chariot drawn by pigs. The Chinese still celebrate the Year of the Pig—which signifies fertility and wealth—the last being 2007, which was certainly better than the year that followed!

This spiritual kinship has long existed, possibly because people have somehow noticed—as science has confirmed—that the pig is on a plane above more ordinary animals. As one professor put it, “Man is more nearly like the pig than the pig wants to admit.” With a large brain and an impressive reasoning ability, pigs are second only to higher primates in terms of intelligence. Then, too, the hog’s heart and coronary arteries

and its blood-clotting mechanisms are more like man’s than are those of any other animal, including apes. Hog heart valves have been transplanted into humans for decades.

Such interchangeability and compatibility have made a big impression on people practically since the time humans and hogs first came nose to snout. Today more than ever, all over the world, people are making pigs into pets. In the U.S., pet pigs number in the tens of thousands.

The actor George Clooney, for one, is said to still be grieving the demise of his beloved swine.

But Ann Waters, a pig expert, cautions against rushing out to buy. “If you purchase, say, a Vietnamese potbellied pig from a breeder,” Waters explains, “be sure to see who its parents are, since some breeders will try to pass off crossbred animals to make a fast buck.” Those who buy on impulse and then find their pig is not as small as they’d been told it would be will sometimes abandon it or try to dump it at a shelter—often leading the pig to die of heartbreak.

“A pig is a real indulgence,” Waters says. “You’ve really got to accommodate a pig. They’re too smart, too human, to be left alone all day like you would a cat. They have intellectual needs and have to be stimulated. They can learn anything you take the time to teach them, and they never forget anything or anyone. Look at the eyes. The eyes say it all. There’s nothing that cheers a person’s soul like a pig does. A pig disarms everybody.”

European explorers venturing to the islands of Melanesia in the 1830s came upon—and occasionally fell prey to—deeply primitive cannibal cultures. In an effort to refashion tastes, missionaries introduced European domestic hogs. Here was a meaty creature the natives could raise, eat, and feel good about—and they did. They immediately welcomed the pigs and made them a form of currency as well as a sacred part of their religious rituals. They also continued being cannibals—with the difference that they began to refer to human meat as “long pig,” since its taste and texture were indistinguishable from that of the shorter pigs they’d come to love.

It’s quite understandable why this should be true, what with the fact that the majority of pigs go to their final resting sites inside of us. They become us, and we them.

All of which means that besides our supernatural connections and kinship with the pig, you and I practically are pork! So the next time somebody calls you a pig, say, “Thanks, brother, that makes two of us.”

Special thanks Susan Magidson and Ross Mill Farm, a pig placement network and full-service adoption facility.

Visit rossmillfarm.com

Opposite page: Louie, four months, July 2012

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Photography LUCA GUADAGNINO 128

Stef Van Der Laan wears Dress, cape, shoes VALENTINO HAUTE COUTURE Fragrance VALENTINO Valentina

Veil ULYANA SERGEENKO HAUTE COUTURE Pants Y-3 Bra ERES On eyes, DIOR Golden Jungle Palette in golden browns

Dress and shoes GIAMBATTISTA VALLI HAUTE COUTURE Gaiters MAX MARA Beret vintage from ESCAPE KILIWATCH

Wedding gown and coat CHANEL HAUTE COUTURE

Stef wears Coat and headpiece ULYANA SERGEENKO HAUTE COUTURE David Kammenos wears (throughout) Vest MONCLER T-shirt CALVIN KLEIN UNDERWEAR Jeans HUGO HUGO BOSS

Cape, dress, sunglasses GIVENCHY HAUTE COUTURE

BY RICCARDO TISCI

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Cardigan, top, pants, veil GIORGIO ARMANI PRIVÉ

Jacket and jumpsuit GAULTIER PARIS Headpiece CHANEL FINE JEWELRY Scarf HERMÈS Makeup VIOLETTE Hair SAM McKNIGHT Manicure Huberte Cesarion (Abtp) Lighting David Ungaro On-set producer Mia Meliava (Stardust Visions) Retouching Smashbox Digital

Photography and words KARL LAGERFELD

WHAT HAPPENED TO EPIC FRENCHNESS, AS EMBODIED

BY WOMEN LIKE ANNA KARINA, MIREILLE DARC, AND NATHALIE DELON IN THE ’60S? THREE SUPERMODELS GET INTO CHARACTER WHILE KARL LAGERFELD MEDITATES ON CLASSIC GALLIC BEAUTY AND THE POWER OF PLACE Today we talk about the globalization of beauty, style, and femininity. But 40 or nearly 50 years ago, things were different. There were English girls, American girls, Swedish girls…and French women.

A French woman was not girly then—just young. She had something very different and specific. It was impossible for observers of women’s style and standards of beauty and fashion not to notice her.

Maybe she was nothing but an idea, but as the philosopher Berkeley said, “All sensible qualities are ideas.” Like heat and cold. There was nothing material about her, but she existed. Of course, there are great French actresses today, but they can fit in any genre of movie, in any country.

To be a typically French woman then, you did not have to be born in France or even be French. Anna Karina is Danish and was married to the famous French-Swiss director Jean-Luc Godard.

Nothing was more French during that period than his movies, and she became the French woman of the moment—a star before the era of red carpets. Here, she is portrayed by Linda Evangelista.

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LINDA AS ANNA KARINA

Linda Evangelista wears Sweater CHANEL Bracelet CHANEL FINE JEWELRY Slip KIKI DE MONTPARNASSE

STEPHANIE AS NATHALIE DELON

Stephanie Seymour wears Dress CHANEL “Love” bracelet and “Tank” watch CARTIER On skin, CHANEL Illuminating Powder with Shimmer

Mireille Darc is a typical brunette girl from Toulon. She became France’s most famous blonde not only because she was such a great actress, but also because in one of her early movies she wore the lowest-cut black dress possible. She was a French woman par excellence, as they say. Impossible to be more French. Here, our choice for Mireille is all-American girl Carolyn Murphy. Through the camera’s lens, she became the perfect vision of something totally French.

Stephanie Seymour plays Nathalie Delon, who was married for a short time to France’s most famous actor, Alain Delon. (Mireille was his companion too, but for much longer.) Today we would call Nathalie an It girl, but that expression did not exist then. She was one of the French girls of the moment. I am not even sure she was born on the Continent. (Brigitte Bardot is another story. She was, in the late ’50s, a worldwide phenomenon who had invented a new type of free woman. Very French but in another way—and on another level.)

But let us go back to that French mood that has disappeared forever and I am not sure would fit into the world of today. It was a style, an attitude, and an expression that related to the events of the ’60s and early ’70s in France. This is what makes it so special. So I liked Carine’s idea of making a very French story inspired by three very French women. I am not using the word “icons.” Nobody used that word back then.

There is still something very modern about these three women.

They are like an inexplicable, vital impulse from an irrational part of our perception of style and of women from another time. They were spontaneous and under no pressure of external necessity— something that is impossible today. That only existed during a short, carefree period from 1965 to 1975. It’s not our love of beauty alone that makes them stand out. It’s their “local universality,” if there can be such an expression. And that they were from France—a France that no longer exists.

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Linda wears Jacket COURRÈGES Sweater and pants DIOR Shoes ROGER VIVIER On skin, DIOR L’Or de Vie La Lotion

CAROLYN AS MIREILLE DARC

Carolyn Murphy wears Dress TOM FORD Shoes MANOLO BLAHNIK Body chain vintage Fragrance TOM FORD Lys Fume

Carolyn wears Dress PACO RABANNE Bracelet DAVID YURMAN

Stephanie wears Jumpsuit vintage PIERRE CARDIN Shoes CHANEL “Love” bracelet and “Tank” watch CARTIER Makeup YADIM for Dior Hair AKKI Manicure Gina Viviano for Chanel Image directors Eric Pfrunder and Katherine Marre Set design Steve Halterman Retouching Ludovic d’Hartdiville On-set producer Kim Siedentopf (Stardust Visions) Special thanks ABC Carpet & Home

Photography MICHAEL AVEDON Four young models swaddled by MICHAELA DOSAMANTES

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This spread: Tilda Lindstam wears Cardigan (her right shoulder) CHANEL Sweater and headpiece MAISON MARTIN MARGIELA Blankets DENIS COLOMB Pin MAISON MARTIN MARGIELA LINE 11 Rings DAVID YURMAN On skin, M.A.C COSMETICS Prep + Prime Skin Smoother

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Grace Mahary wears Knit cowl-neck (as skirt), knit sweater, gray sweater MICHAEL KORS Headpiece RICK OWENS Scarf (under headpiece) and blanket HERMÈS Bracelet DAVID WEBB

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Anmari Botha wears Cable-knit cardigan (her left) MAISON MARTIN MARGIELA Open-weave cardigan (her right) PRINGLE OF SCOTLAND Gray sweaters JOIE Headpiece RICK OWENS Pin and ring DAVID WEBB On skin, M.A.C COSMETICS Mineralized Charged Water Face and Body Lotion

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Vasilisa Pavlova wears Sweaters SONIA RYKIEL Blanket DENIS COLOMB Scarf and hat (both on head) HERMÈS

Makeup FRANKIE BOYD Hair AKKI Manicure Tatyana Molot On-set producer Kim Siedentopf (Stardust Visions)

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Clutch (left) LANVIN Minaudière (right) GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI Dickey and necktie MIU MIU

Photography BRIGITTE NIEDERMAIR

Sweater (throughout) MICHAEL KORS Bag LOUIS VUITTON Shoe BALENCIAGA BY NICOLAS GHESQUIÈRE Tights (throughout) FALKE Dickey and necktie MIU MIU

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Bag CÉLINE Shoe CHANEL Top and necktie MIU MIU

Bag PRADA Dickey and necktie MIU MIU On nails, CHANEL Rouge Allure Nail Colour in coromandel

Bag HERMÈS Dickey and necktie MIU MIU Makeup LINDA GRADIN Hair JIMMY PAUL for Bumble and bumble Manicure Gina Viviano for Chanel Set design Steve Halterman On-set producer Chris Bradford (Stardust Visions)

iPad case and bootie FENDI Shirt collar, dickey, necktie MIU MIU

CHANEL HAUTE COUTURE Tuesday, July 3, 12 PM Grand Palais

“I love scenes.

I love situations— when everything is simply unpredictable.

I love getting lost in fashion’s beautiful chaos.

There’s more nerve going in than when you’re actually there.

But I was entering a world unknown.”

–Michael Avedon See the full couture diary on crfashionbook.com

Photography MICHAEL AVEDON

GIORGIO ARMANI PRIVÉ Tuesday, July 3, 4:30 PM Palais de Chaillot

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ATELIER VERSACE Sunday, July 1, 8:30 PM Ritz Paris

VALENTINO HAUTE COUTURE Wednesday, July 4, 6 PM Hôtel Salomon de Rothschild

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CR FASHION BOOK

76

A MESSAGE FROM AMMA

The spiritual leader suggests a new path to inner beauty Photography Henry Hopper & Amanda Charchian 80

A WOMAN’S LIFE Symbolic tableaux of femininity Photography Sebastian Faena 94

LESLIE WINER

The tough-talking former model and counterculture icon on making music her life Photography Jean-Baptiste Mondino Words Gerard Forde 98

ELECTRAPOLITAN

Fall’s new designers and directives Photography Jean-Baptiste Mondino 108

BLACK GARDENS

Future generations find better living through fashion stories Artwork Philippe Parreno Words Bruce Sterling 110

LUCHO AND JULIET

Love and loss make beautiful bedfellows A fairy tale written and photographed by Tom Ford 122

POSSESSIONS

A dark fantasy of vintage couture Artwork Karen Kilimnik Words Kirsten Dunst 128

QUEENS

Women on the verge of something Photography Pierpaolo Ferrari 136

BLACK ON BLACK

The essence of style in our favorite noncolor Photography Brigitte Niedermair 140

THE WHITE MUGHAL

A tale of power, character, and supernatural strength Created by Amanda Harlech Photography Anthony Maule 148

HIGH ON REBELLION

A modern heroine seeks peace, love, unity, and respect Photography Jamie Morgan 154

LULLABY

A new mother, a new silhouette Photography Jean-Baptiste Mondino

Cover and introduction photography BRUCE WEBER

When something is consuming your thoughts, you suddenly notice it everywhere. when I learned that my daughter, Julia, was expecting, I immediately began seeing babies and new mothers on planes, at fashion shows, in New York and in Paris. Birth and rebirth all around. I became obsessed. At the same time, I was thinking and dreaming about the first issue of this magazine, which you are reading now.

This issue takes rebirth as its theme and is filled with both IMAGES AND ideas about birth, pregnancy, and family. The promise of youth, the force of age, and the rush of all things new. It’s an escape, a fashion fairy tale. It’s a dream of a better life— because fashion is meant to make us dream.

CR is a place for these fantasies of fashion—the most irresistible clothes on the most beautiful girls captured by some of the most visionary photographers. We celebrate the genius and staying power of fashion’s most brilliant creators. At the same time, however, I like to think of CR as a platform for rising stars. Fashion is an industry built on the excitement and energy of youth, and CR is where you’ll see new talent first. I’ve edited the magazine to be a who’s who of the next generation, as well as an ode to fashion's legends and icons. created with humor, joy, grace, and always a dash of irreverence.

—Carine

Julia Restoin Roitfeld, April 2012 Photography SEBASTIAN FAENA

Photography HENRY HOPPER & AMANDA CHARCHIAN Words AMMA-MATA AMRITANANDAMAYI

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What is the meaning of mother? Mata Amritanandamayi, known as Amma (“mother” in Malayalam, her native language), is a spiritual leader and humanitarian. Experienced by many of her devotees as a living incarnation of the divine mother, Amma is marked by her devotion to charitable relief and human compassion.

As a teenager in Kerala, India—where it was then unprecedented for women, even holy women, to be physically nurturing—Amma began offering her darshan (Sanskrit for “vision”), a blessing in the form of a hug, to crowds of strangers. Now 58, she has traveled the world, to over 20 countries, personally embracing over 32 million people, never turning anyone away or charging any money. At times rarely sleeping, she has hugged 40,000 people in a single sitting, sharing with each one her unique energy. In the words of one longtime devotee: “Each time I see Amma, it’s different, but with her darshan, her hug, there is always the feeling of a serene soul-whisper she is imparting to you. It ignites your core. You feel like she is seeing and embracing all parts of you at once, in both this reality and other realities.”

Amma’s humanitarian work is inspired and tireless. Her NGO has Special Consultative Status with the United Nations and has catalyzed a worldwide initiative of volunteer-based humanitarian activities encompassing charitable hospitals, orphanages, homes for those in need, education for the underprivileged, and environmental rejuvenation. Amma and her charities were fundamental in entirely rebuilding three razed villages in the Gujarat region of India after 2001’s dramatic earthquakes. In India, in addition to her hands-on relief work, she contributed $46 million to tsunami relief and over $43 million in an effort to tackle farmer suicide rates. Her support has extended to those in need following natural disasters in Japan, New Orleans, Peru, Haiti, Sri Lanka, West Bengal, Bihar, Mumbai, and Karnataka. –Dominic Teja Sidhu

WE ARE HONORED TO BEGIN THIS ISSUE OF CR WITH A MESSAGE FROM AMMA—A WOMAN WHOSE MAGNETIC GRACE AND CLARITY OF PURPOSE INSPIRE US ALL. THESE ARE HER WORDS There once lived a wealthy man who had buried a large amount of gold in his orchard. Every morning he would stealthily visit there, dig up the gold, and stare at it. Seeing its glimmer, a broad smile would cross his face. Then he would bury the gold and happily return home. He did this religiously every day as a kind of morning worship.

One day the man’s neighbor secretly removed all the gold and replaced it with rocks. The next day, the wealthy man received the shock of his life.

“Help! Help! Someone has stolen my gold!” he screamed. Hearing the commotion, his neighbors came running. The neighbor who had removed

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the gold advised him: “Why are you so upset? You would never have used that gold anyway. All you did was look at it every day. For that, these rocks should suffice. Whatever happens, continue your morning routine—come and see these rocks every day.”

True happiness comes from sharing our possessions. Otherwise, both wealth and knowledge revert to mere ornaments, magnifying our mental burden. We will lack the peace of mind to appreciate what we already have. Our selfish ego will always think, If I give this away, what will be left for me to enjoy? But when we convert a selfish concern into a divine thought—such as, If I enjoy this, will I still have something left over to give?—our inner beauty will surely increase.

The happiness that objects bring has sorrow attached. When we lose something that makes us happy, it brings us sorrow. But the happiness that comes from sharing selflessly can never be removed. We should not only share our good fortune with others, but also share in their misfortunes. We should experience others’ sadness as our own. That is when we will be able to serve with love. Service performed with this attitude will bring inexplicable peace and happiness. Our inner beauty will shine forth externally.

In today’s world, people have become very health-conscious. Many of us pursue physical exercise, but most of us neglect to exercise our hearts.

Exercise for the heart lies in feeling compassion for the suffering. The beauty of our eyes is not in the eyeliner applied, but in seeing others in a generous light. The beauty of our lips is not in the lipstick, but in speaking kind words. The beauty of our ears is not in the earrings, but in listening patiently to the distressed. The beauty of our hands is not in our golden rings, but in using our hands to perform the right actions.

Selfless service is the portal to inner beauty. If we serve nature selflessly, nature will serve us. If we serve animals and plants lovingly, they will serve us in turn. We want to have rain and sun in the right proportions, but we neglect the forests and mountains. We long for clean water, but pollute our streams and rivers. Only when we live with love, trust, respect, and an attitude of service can we achieve success and happiness in life.

When we forget this principle, nature lashes back. Sincere service is what sustains this universe.

The foundation of selfless service is unadulterated love. Amma knows that it is not easy to have such a pure, loving mind, because when two people come together, it is two separate worlds that become linked. Love and service are not two—they are inextricably tied to one another, like a flower and its fragrance. True service happens when we understand the hearts of the suffering and serve them. For this, we ought to learn to see ourselves in others, and others in ourselves.

–Amma-Mata Amritanandamayi for CR Fashion Book, July 22, 2012

Photography SEBASTIAN FAENA 80

BIRTH

Juliet Ingleby (center) wears Gown GUCCI Shoes VALENTINO GARAVANI Flowers (in hair) LEGERON Cashmere throw (around baby) DENIS COLOMB Daniela Braga, Magda Laguinge, and Stef Van Der Laan (left) wear Clothing VALENTINO Hats PRABAL GURUNG Gloves CAROLINA AMATO Shoes SERGIO ROSSI Aiden Shaw (right) wears Clothing and boots HERMÃ&#x2C6;S

CHILDHOOD

Saskia wears Bodysuit MICHAEL KORS Skirt CÉLINE Hat CHARLIE LE MINDU “Bone” cuff and “Scorpion” necklace

by Elsa Peretti TIFFANY & CO. Fragrance MICHAEL KORS Gold Rose Edition

FIRST LOVER

Juliet (top) wears Dress, belt, scarf GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI Shoes GIANVITO ROSSI Clément Chabernaud wears Clothing GIORGIO ARMANI Magda (bottom) wears Clothing GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI

ADOLESCENCE

Juliet (center) wears Coat HUGO HUGO BOSS Blanket LE RIDEAU DE PARIS On lips, CHANEL Rouge Allure in incandescente Stef, Daniela, and Magda wear Clothing GIVENCHY

BY RICCARDO TISCI Sunglasses MAISON MARTIN MARGIELA

THE SPIRIT

Lara Stone wears Coat AZZEDINE ALAÏA Shoes CÉLINE

Coat and shoes CÃ&#x2030;LINE

BETRAYAL

Juliet (center) wears Dress and pants LOUIS VUITTON Shoes VALENTINO GARAVANI Magda, Stef, and Daniela wear Dresses DIOR Bonnets FALCONIERE Gloves CAROLINA AMATO

SISTERHOOD

From left: Saskia de Brauw wears Clothing and gloves BALENCIAGA

BY NICOLAS GHESQUIÈRE Shoes GIANVITO ROSSI Juliet wears Dress BALENCIAGA

BY NICOLAS GHESQUIÈRE Shoes VALENTINO GARAVANI Boa LEGERON

DESPAIR

Saskia (on bed) and Juliet (center) wear Clothing CHRISTOPHER KANE Aiden (left) wears Clothing HERMÃ&#x2C6;S

REBIRTH

Juliet (center) wears Bag TOM FORD Shoes VALENTINO GARAVANI Flowers (in hair) LEGERON Daniela, Stef, and Magda wear Clothing VALENTINO Hats PRABAL GURUNG Gloves CAROLINA AMATO Boots SERGIO ROSSI Makeup CAROLE COLOMBANI Hair SAM McKNIGHT Manicure Elsa Durrens Set design Fabienne Eisenstein for fabeisenstein.com Digital technician Paul Pesquet for imagin-productions.com Lighting technician Chris Bisagni Production Michael Lacomblez for artandcommerceproduction.com (ProdN Paris) On-set producer Phillippe Saint-Gilles Retouching Picturehouse Equipment rental RVZ (rvz.fr) Location Château du Marais Special thanks Yolanda Zaragoza, Victoire De Pourtales, Paz Reussi

Photography JEAN-BAPTISTE MONDINO Words GERARD FORDE

THE FIRST ANDROGYNOUS FASHION MODEL, LESLIE WINER IS THE DEFINITION OF AN ORIGINAL. BUT SHE HAS MUCH MORE THAN GLOSSY PICTURES TO HER NAME, LIKE A LONGSTANDING EXPERIMENTAL MUSIC CAREER AND FIRST-HAND TALES OF COUNTERCULTURE ICONS FROM BURROUGHS TO BASQUIAT. ON THE EVE OF A RETROSPECTIVE ALBUM, SHE SPARES NOTHING AND NO ONE WHEN REFLECTING ON THE PAST Grandmother of trip-hop, former punk model, dub lesbian, witch… Leslie Winer has been called many things over the course of her 25-year music career. But the latter of these labels is the one she wears as a badge of honor. “Witch” was the title of her influential debut album, whose deadpan feminist musings are as relevant today as they ever were: “because a woman’s work is never done, and underpaid, boring, and repetitious. And I’m the first one to get the sack.”

Witch appeared under the name ©, the circle of the copyright symbol formed by a serpent biting its own tail. “I was thinking about intellectual property as a concept and the general freakiness of the notion of owning words,” Winer says today. The album’s packaging was notable for its lack of any images depicting her. As one of her lyrics—“what I look like is more important than what I do”—laments, she was tired of being photographed.

In the preceding decade, she had been portrayed by everyone from Helmut Newton and Jean-Baptiste Mondino to Pierre et Gilles and Tony Viramontes, and had appeared on the cover of every magazine from Mademoiselle and The Face to French and Italian Vogue. Her TV campaign for Miss Dior and a two-year stint as the Valentino girl had left her feeling nothing but contempt for the fashion industry. “I was a reluctant model for five junkie years,” she says. “Didn’t like it then. Don’t like it now. Somehow, thanks to the magic of fashion revisionism, I have been upgraded to former supermodel. What the fuck is that? That concept didn’t even exist then. I’m also a former nasty alcoholic and former Tampax user, each for more than five years and with considerably more enthusiasm.”

Occasioned by the forthcoming publication of her first volume of poems, the release of a retrospective compilation CD, and a digital re-release of Witch, Winer opens up about then and now.

Opposite page: Leslie Winer, May 2012

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THERE’S NO MEANING IN THESE WORDS. The joy of reading was instilled in Winer at an early age, by her adoptive grandmother. “She was the love of my life,” she says. “When I was a little kid she’d have me memorize poems. I read everything I possibly could. It was a refuge for me.” In the late ’70s, Winer fled her “creepy suburban life” in Weston, Massachusetts, and headed to New York to take conceptual art pioneer Joseph Kosuth’s course at the School of Visual Arts. To make money for materials, she helped her neighbor, Stewart Meyer, write and proofread porn novels. “He worked for these two Italian guys,” Winer remembers. “They had a very strict set of rules: no male homosexuality, plenty of lesbianism, no bestiality. The level of stuff they wanted was like, ‘Her huge, milky white globes jiggled like a Thanksgiving Day Jell-O platter as she bounced on his humongous meat pole.’”

Meyer’s bookshelves furnished Winer with a crash course in Beat literature, and he introduced her to luminaries William S. Burroughs and Herbert Huncke. “I used to take Burroughs blueberries and sour cream.

He’d read me the newspaper, we’d build model helicopters and do target practice, or I’d sit in the orgone accumulator. He made me read Denton Welch, The Tibetan Book of the Dead, and Wallis Budge. Huncke’s methadone clinic was close to my house, so he would drop by two or three times a week. He was born in Greenfield, Massachusetts, near where I was born, and would tell me stories about his childhood. When I would have to go out to the store or something, he’d say, ‘You can’t leave me alone Leeesleee, have I taught you nothing? I’ll steal everything the minute you’re gone.’ Burroughs was like a grandfather figure for me.

There was a kind of formality to our relationship. He was a classicist, whereas Huncke was a romantic.”

After years of jetting between photo shoots in New York, Paris, Milan, and Tokyo—where her bad behavior got her banned from every nightclub—the mid 1980s found Winer at the epicenter of London’s demimonde, sharing a flat with underground filmmaker John Maybury and his boyfriend, Trojan, painter of faux-naïf Day-Glo fantasies, set designer for choreographer Michael Clark, and permanent fixture at Leigh Bowery’s notorious club, Taboo. It was in this hedonistic milieu that she met Kevin Mooney, a hell-raiser who had played bass with Adam and the Ants but jumped ship in 1981, just as the band was shedding its raw punk aesthetic for a more slick, chart-friendly, new-romantic sound. He then fronted the short-lived Wide Boy Awake before teaming up with childhood friend John Keogh to form Max, for which Winer provided lyrics and visual direction.

Trojan and Maybury were the sole witnesses at Winer and Mooney’s shotgun wedding in the spring of 1986. “I got married for the papers,” Winer says. “Period. The British wanted me to leave the country.” A few months later, Trojan was dead, at age 21, from an accidental overdose.

Max paid tribute to his incorrigible flamboyance in its 1987 release “Little Ghost,” penned by Winer and Mooney: “Here is an angel with a bow and arrow, saying God doesn’t know how to put on her halo.”

The B-side featured Winer’s debut vocal performance, on the track “337.5537’s Little Ghost.” The mysterious title alluded to her early ’80s romance with painter Jean-Michel Basquiat. “I lived with him mostly off and sometimes on for a couple of years,” says Winer. “3375537 is my name upside-down, calculator-wise, phone-number length. Basquiat used it for tagging. Dondi White and Rammellzee would use it as far north as the Bronx as what I like to call a ‘fat-girl nod’ in my direction.”

Winer and Mooney next wrote “Just Call Me Joe” for Sinéad O’Connor, with Winer intoning her own dystopian prose at the close of the track. Watching legendary producer Trevor Horn work on Max’s album gave her the confidence to branch out on her own and take a new artistic direction. “I wasn’t pleased with the way Max was making its

music. I was that annoying kind of studio back-seat driver. But watching Trevor mix I could see he was doing the whole thing visually, like choreographing in space, and I realized I could try that.”

In 1988, Winer recorded her first song, “Kind of Easy,” with Karl Bonnie from Renegade Soundwave. “That was the first time I got to put down music how I wanted,” she says. “We sent it to Jon Baker at Gee Street, who put us in the studio. He hated the tracks we came up with, but wouldn’t give us the tapes. Karl broke in and stole them back, and we took them to Rhythm King, who put ‘Kind of Easy’ out on vinyl.

This must have been in 1989 or 1990. Karl’s brother told us it was a popular cassette bootleg among bicycle messengers in London, and we were way-out-of-proportion pleased with ourselves.” The subsequent white-label pressing of Witch, with its combination of sluggish reggae beats, lo-fi samples, spacey reverb, and spoken-word vocal delivery provided a blueprint for the trip-hop sound popularized over the next few years by Massive Attack, Tricky, and Portishead. By the time Witch had its official release, in 1993, it was old news for Winer. She had moved on, both artistically and geographically.

THESE ARE THE WORDS I DIDN’T INVENT. ONLY AN ATTEMPT TO SAY WHAT I MEANT. In 1991, Winer relocated to Miami and was working at Island Records founder Chris Blackwell’s South Beach Studios, run by CubanAmerican producer Joe Galdo, inventor of the Miami Sound. The material she recorded there, 3 Bags Full and Spider, has slowly percolated to the surface over the last decade or so in almost impossible-to-find limited editions. In 1999, longtime friend and fan Helmut Lang issued Spider as a CD, limited to 500 copies, and in 2010, London-based cassette-only label The Tapeworm released tracks from both projects under the title & That Dead Horse, in an edition of 250. “This is Life,” one of the songs Winer wrote for Grace Jones’s shelved Black Marilyn album, finally appeared (albeit in slightly adulterated form) as the opening track on Jones’s 2008 comeback album, Hurricane.

Last year saw the release of a four-track vinyl EP, Always Already, under the name Purity Supreme, Winer’s ongoing artistic partnership with French musician and producer Christophe Van Huffel. Meanwhile, Winer’s association with The Tapeworm has spawned as-yet-unfinished collaborations with artists as diverse as Swedish composer Carl Michael von Hausswolff (King of Elgaland-Vargaland), and London-based ecstatic noise artist Dale Cornish. And there’s a forthcoming Bookworm edition, 10 Pomes Fin (Irish Wristwatch). & WORDS I HAVE NONE. I JUST STEEL THEM & MAKE THEM TALK. Close listening to Winer’s songs over the past 25 years reveals her recycling certain lyrics, rephrased from track to track to create shifting constellations of meaning. “When I was pregnant with my second daughter,” Winer recalls, “I joined a Heidegger study group at MIT because I figured it would make the baby much smarter. They were unpacking his book Poetry, Language, Thought, which contains a Rilke fragment: ‘…in the end, it is our unshieldedness on which we depend, and that, when we saw it threaten, we turned it so into the Open that, in widest orbit somewhere, where the Law touches us, we may affirm it.’ I’ve been parsing that over and over for 25 years to get at its it-ness, its suchness.

I’ll get hold of a sentence and live my way into understanding it. It’s a private business. It’s not like, I’m gonna make something and people will like it. It’s a selfish pleasure.”

10 Pomes Fin (Irish Wristwatch) is published by The Bookworm (tapeworm.org.uk). Leslie Winer &c is available from touchshop.org

Opposite page: Still from Mekon’s music video for “Calm Gunshot,” featuring Leslie Winer, directed by John Maybury and Honey Brothers. Courtesy Wall of Sound

Photography JEAN-BAPTISTE MONDINO

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Opposite page: Stef Van Der Laan wears Top BOTTEGA VENETA Earrings and rings (her left) REPOSSI Ring (her right) DIOR FINE JEWELRY Grills DR.DOLL’ART On skin, TOM FORD Illuminating Powder This page: Marte Mei Van Haaster wears Dress and shoes COMME DES GARÇONS Tights (throughout) FALKE

Opposite page, from left: Cara Delevingne wears Top and skirt FELIPE OLIVEIRA BAPTISTA Boots DOLCE & GABBANA Stef wears Dress ALTUZARRA Boots DOLCE & GABBANA Clutch LANVIN Robinho wears Top and pants T BY ALEXANDER WANG This page: Kati Nescher wears Clothing and accessories PRADA

This page, from left: Cora Emmanuel wears Sweater ALEXANDER WANG Skirt CALLALILAI Kati wears Top, skirt, pants LOUIS VUITTON Skirt (worn as headdress) CALLALILAI Magda Laguinge wears Layered jackets and belt HAIDER ACKERMANN Skirt CALLALILAI All boots and accessories DOLCE & GABBANA Opposite page, from left: Anmari Botha wears Jacket DSQUARED2 Grace Bol wears Jacket Y-3 Hat PHILIP TREACY FOR GIORGIO ARMANI Bag GUCCI All boots MONCLER GAMME ROUGE

From left: Anmari wears Jacket and brooch CHANEL Pants CHLOÉ Bag ROGER VIVIER Shoes KENZO Grace wears Jacket GIORGIO ARMANI Skirt CHLOÉ Clutch OLYMPIA LE TAN Shoes AZZEDINE ALAÏA Marie Piovesan wears Sweater, skirt, shoes KENZO Clutch BOTTEGA VENETA Marte wears Jacket DIOR Skirt CHLOÉ Clutch OLYMPIA LE TAN Shoes CHARLOTTE OLYMPIA

From left: Stef wears Coat REED KRAKOFF Sweater DIOR Pants LASUNA Headband and shoes KENZO Clutch BOTTEGA VENETA Ymre Stiekema wears Jumpsuit LACOSTE Jacket BOTTEGA VENETA Clutch OLYMPIA LE TAN Shoes PIERRE HARDY Simone Nobili wears Clothing ANTONIO AZZUOLO Shoes NIKE Air Yeezy II

Opposite page, from left: Xiao Wen Ju wears Sweater and skirt DIESEL BLACK GOLD Bag SALVATORE FERRAGAMO Stef wears Jacket and dress SIMONE ROCHA Ava Smith wears Sweater RALPH LAUREN BLACK LABEL Skirt FENDI Bag SALVATORE FERRAGAMO On eyes, ESTÉE LAUDER Pure Color Eyeliner in punker black This page: Stef wears Dress MARC JACOBS Gloves FELIPE OLIVEIRA BAPTISTA Boots DOLCE & GABBANA Bag LOUIS VUITTON Makeup GEMMA SMITH-EDHOUSE Hair MARC LOPEZ Digital technician Matteo Miani (DTouch) Manicure Huberte Cesarion (Abtp) and Brenda Abrial On-set producer Mia Meliava (Stardust Visions) Retouching Stéphane Virlogeux (Janvier) Location and equipment rental Studio Daylight, Paris

SCIENCE FICTION AUTHOR BRUCE STERLING HAS IMAGINED LIFE IN ALTERNATE SOLAR SYSTEMS AND OTHER DIMENSIONS. HERE, HE TAKES INSPIRATION FROM PHILIPPE PARRENO’S C.H.Z., A SHORT FILM THAT IS NOTHING SHORT OF AN IMMERSIVE EXPERIENCE. FOR THE PROJECT, PARRENO BUILT A CRYSTALLINE LANDSCAPE OF BLACK SAND, LAVA, ROCK, AND GLASS ON A PLOT OF LAND IN PORTUGAL AND FILMED THE SHIMMERING TEXTURES AND BUBBLING SOUNDS OF THIS ARTIFICIAL NATURE IN FLUX. THIS IS LIFE IN THE GARDENS.

H

e set his jet pack on the birdbath. “Intelligent life on other worlds.”

“Yes.” He joined her on the wrought-iron bench. Wildfires had thrown embers over the walls and burned the ornamental garden to a crisp.

They gazed together at the blackened ruins of the flower beds.

Her mother’s boyfriend was a nice guy, yet Erica couldn’t bring herself to look at him. The seams in his American aviator jacket were like some endless cavalcade of tiny mistakes.

The boyfriend examined the scorched Corsican garden. His jet pack ticked as it cooled. “You could have picked a better spot for your sabbatical, Erica.”

“Nicolas asked me to stay here while I got better. He’s too busy in Paris to look after this place. He said I should restyle his burned garden for him. Everything must begin again.”

“Your mother worries,” he said.

“I’ll tell you what happened. I got tired of squinting at fine print. So I threw away my glasses and had my eyes done. Not lasers, the new thing. Stem cells from my thigh bones, inside my eyeballs.” Erica drew a breath. “My eyes are better than new. I have eagle eyes, it’s truly a wonder. After that, after what happened, I just couldn’t stay in Paris. So here I am. I’m in the black garden.”

“You’ve always followed your heart, Erica.”

“I have to follow my eyes now. I can see colors on the far side of purple.

I can see beyond black.” She touched her eyelids with both hands. “A little black dress looks like a circus costume.”

“I guess that explains your garbage bag and those safety pins.”

Erica smoothed the thin, white plastic over her bare legs.

“This is just a phase for me. When I wear textiles I can see every thread.

Silk looks thicker than cable-knit jersey.”

“Becoming superhuman, that must be a glamorous prospect.”

“You can tell my mother: everyone will change their eyes like I did.

Even her, I think. I took the risk, and it hurt me. But the pain is just for the avant-garde. The mainstream gets it straight off the rack.”

The boyfriend looked her over. “So, I heard that people with stem-cell eye work can see UFOs.” “I saw two or three,” Erica admitted. “They’re optical illusions. Don’t worry, UFOs are still for the crazy people.”

“Maybe those alien intelligences will send us some real UFOs.” “I came here to study those pictures. The black garden transmissions. I look at them every day here. I quit my job, and I don’t talk much just now.”

“Yes, that’s very you, Erica. I knew you’d do something like that.”

“In Paris they worry so much about the aliens. That’s what Nicolas is doing now. They’re burning the midnight oil in the Élysée Palace. They’re living on take-out pizza.”

“That must be pretty tough for the French cabinet.”

“This is the most important thing that ever happened to the human race.”

“I guess. Yeah, sure it is.” Her mother’s boyfriend kicked flecks of ash from his shoes. “People can get used to anything. Copernicus, Darwin—even climate change. I always thought that aliens would send us mathematics. Pure data, software. Not black pictures like roots, grass, and rocks.”

“Let’s look at the pictures together,” said Erica.

“Alright. As long as I’m here, why not?”

Erica spoke into the back of her hand. “Zinnia! A guest has arrived!

Bring us that chardonnay and some cheese. And bring that big book.”

“So, you printed the transmissions?”

“Yes, with fine-art paper and ultraviolet inks. Digital screens can never do a true black. Their pixels look as big as Lego bricks.”

“Great outfit, Lego. We always loved them in Silicon Valley.”

Zinnia bounded down the mansion’s steps, bearing an outsize album bound in Morocco leather.

“This is Zinnia,” Erica offered. “She’s my muse.”

“She calls me that,” Zinnia said, “so she won’t have to pay me a salary.”

“That’s a very pretty gown you have on,” the boyfriend said.

“It was pretty five years ago,” Zinnia said. “In the Milan shows of Spring 2047.”

“Where’s my pecorino?” said Erica.

“That stupid French kitchen robot won’t speak English to me! It’s in there slicing ham! When are we going back to Paris?” Zinnia paused.

“Aren’t you Sergey Brin?”

“No,” said the boyfriend.

“You sure look like Sergey Brin. You look very Russian-genius-fromStanford.”

“People often make that mistake,” said the boyfriend, fondling his jet pack.

“Well, welcome to Corsica, Mr. Whoever-you-are. I’ll be back with supplies when I defeat that robot. Maybe I can beat it to death with my broomstick.” Zinnia vaulted back up the steps and through the double doors.

“Your muse is intelligent,” the boyfriend assessed.

“I was just the same, at her age.”

“Yeah, that’s what your mother tells me.”

Erica handed him the private art book.

“You know, I really don’t think I can help you here,” said the boyfriend, leafing slowly through the glossy plates. “I was involved in this problem—believe me, we brought the heaviest computational power ever used on image analysis. We got nowhere. The black gardens are completely opaque.”

“Imagine they’re not black,” said Erica.

“These are so familiar, the grass that looks like worms… That scary hole in the ground… The landscape with two suns… We figured out where those suns are located. We know where they are in the galaxy. But the rest of it?” He clapped the book shut. “Wild speculation. Paranoia.

It’s like science fiction crossed with French philosophy.”

“Think about what we sent to them,” Erica urged him. “We sent television signals to the stars. Ads and game shows. The worst kitschy rubbish that mankind could imagine.”

“That’s cause for an alien invasion, right there.”

“They saw that from 40 light-years away. In return, they sent us this.”

“Art?” he said.

“Fashion.”

“Maybe it’s a horror story.”

“It’s a message of hope from another world.”

The boyfriend pondered the idea. “Our world could do with a message of hope.”

“They sent us a fashion portfolio. All fashion shoots are messages of hope from some other world. They are trying to help us. They want us to become more elegant. Less loud and vulgar, more stylish. They’re the Paris of the galaxy.”

“I rather like your theory,” he said. “Who did you tell about this?”

“This is the cosmos talking. Mankind must become cosmopolitan. We have to reply to this message. I have a little plan.”

He turned and glanced over the park bench. “Oh, look! Here comes lunch.”

Words BRUCE STERLING Artwork PHILIPPE PARRENO Opposite page: Philippe Parreno, C.H.Z., 2011 Courtesy Pilar Corrias Gallery; Esther Schipper Gallery; the artist 108

109

A fairy tale written and photographed

by TOM FORD

O

nce upon a time, high above Manhattan, lived a Prince and Princess of New York.

The Princess was breathtakingly beautiful, and she was adored by her handsome Prince. When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was gorgeous.

One day, one of the wicked queens of Park Avenue, who had been spurned by the handsome Prince while shopping at Cartier, sent the Princess a shiny, perfect â&#x20AC;&#x153;Poisonâ&#x20AC;? apple in a beautiful box from Dior.

The Princess was enchanted, and, as she adored anything from Dior, she took a bite. Instantly, she fell into a sleep so deep and dark that even the passionate kisses of her handsome Prince could not awaken her.

Juliet Ingleby wears Robe and slip CARINE GILSON Earrings and bracelet VAN CLEEF & ARPELS Shoes SERGIO ROSSI Lucho Jacob wears Clothing (throughout) TOM FORD Watch CARTIER 111

D

istraught, the Prince could not part with his beautiful Princess, and so he encased her in a crystal box and placed her on their bed.

He gazed at her night and day and day and night. And because of his love, and nightly applications of EstĂŠe Lauder Night Repair serum, her beauty refused to fade.

In fact, she magically grew even more luminous each day.

Dress DIOR Necklace, bracelet, ring, earrings MOUSSAIEFF Hairpins DOLCE & GABBANA

T

he Prince shopped and shopped and tried what he could, as a good Prince should.

He dressed her for lunch in Dior and for dinner in Chanel, but not even a gift from Van Cleef & Arpels could rouse his Princess from the spell.

They watched her favorite reality shows, and in the evenings, they always wore red. But the antics of the Kardashians nevertheless left her for dead.

Jacket, skirt, shoes, bag, sunglasses DIOR Rings and earrings GRAFF DIAMONDS Bracelet H.STERN On lips, DIOR Rouge Dior Lipstick in hypnotic red and Addict Ultra-Gloss in black-tie plum

Dress TOM FORD Necklace and ring GRAFF DIAMONDS On nails, CHANEL Nail Colour in vamp

D

eprived of the lively company of his beautiful Princess, the handsome Prince sank deeper and deeper into a dark, gloomy mood. And on a dreadfully dreary day, when he had lost his way, he took a bite of the “Poison” apple.

He moved toward the bed, bumped his head, and couldn’t get up in the morning.

Dress THEYSKENS’ THEORY Necklace and ring H.STERN Veil vintage

H

igh in the sky, they lie together still, forever in love, forever beautiful, and visited only by their loyal personal shoppers, who live happily ever after.

Dress ALEXANDER MCQUEEN Gloves CORNELIA JAMES

Makeup YADIM for Dior Hair SAM McKNIGHT Talent Olivia J. Welch, Anthony Ferriroli, Andrea Robredo Ruit Manicure Marian Newman Set design Robbie Doig for Dragonfly Scenery Retouching Simon Perry Studio & Westphal, Inc. On-set producer Jenn Wirtz (Stardust Visions) Special thanks Paco Bardotti at Standby Chef Catering and the Tom Ford showroom Duvet provided by Gingerlily at Harrods (gingerlily.co.uk) Satin beddings by Agent Provocateur at Harrods (agentprovocateur.com)

ARTWORK COURTESY THE ARTIST AND 303 GALLERY, NEW YORK

I

am newly engaged. I live in a home in the Garden District. We are canopied by live oaks with Spanish moss so taut I could sew my wedding dress with its gray-green threads. It’s so humid here, and I only sit outside at night. I’m nervous to sleep, so I go to bed at odd hours, never falling too deep. When I dream, it’s reoccurring.

I see a home next to mine with a large field between us. A woman sits in a window with no pane in it. She wears a black dress with pearl buttons done all the way to the top.

She’s sitting in a rocking chair, barely moving, staring at me. I don’t feel threatened, just watched.

When I wake up, I can’t shake her off. I try on my wedding dress. Today, my dress is foreign to me. It makes me feel like I’m watching some other life in my own house.

I want to go outside, but what if the lady from my dream is next door?

I’m afraid to look out the windows. I go to my closet where my veil is hanging and cover my face. I walk into the heat of the yard, shrouded like the trees. I look for the lady in the house across the yard. The reflection of the sun on her windows creates a mirror of myself. I see what I couldn’t see.

I start to tug at a strand of moss, but I can’t pull it down. I have to cut the moss with scissors. I grab and cut and grab and cut. The heat washes over the back of my neck, but I can’t stop cutting. I’m jolted by every little bird or bug or sound that flies over my head.

It’s hard to see through my veil, but I cut and cut until I’m daydreaming in my own bed of moss.

When I drift to sleep, the world is awake. It’s 1946. There’s a balcony. I’m in a gown, something wonderful from the past. In the sky, there are two clouds. There is a man with me and we take a photo together. In the picture I’m lying in a lawn chair with a hat and scarf draped around my head. I don’t know who he is. He is a stranger.

I want to talk to the man, but I can’t speak. My lips are being erased. It’s 1951. I start fading away, but I’m not scared to leave him.

When I wake up, I look across the yard. At the window, I see the woman standing at a vanity. She turns her head and looks back at me. She smiles, puts a finger to her lips, and says, “Shhh, we switched.”

Artwork KARIN KILIMNIK Words KIRSTEN DUNST 123

Photography PIERPAOLO FERRARI 128

Queen of KAMANGA

Kiara Kabukuru wears Dress LANVIN Scarf HERMÃ&#x2C6;S Necklace CARTIER Rings (her right index and middle fingers) and earrings DIOR FINE JEWELRY Rings (her right ring and pinky fingers) TIFFANY & CO. Ring (her left) CANTAMESSA Shoes GIANVITO ROSSI Bag CHANEL

Queen of OSTERLICH

Lindsey Wixson wears Chain dresses (layered) YVES SAINT LAURENT Necklace and earrings CHOPARD Bracelet CANTAMESSA Rings JACOB & CO. On eyes and lips, ESTÃ&#x2030;E LAUDER Vivid Shine Cyber Metallic Eyeshadow in arctic sky and Vivid Shine Lipstick in electric mauve

Queen of NORDLAND

Bambi Northwood-Blyth wears Jacket and turtleneck MAISON MARTIN MARGIELA Brooch necklace (as mask), pearl necklace, brooch (both in hair) CHANEL

Queen of HOHENPHALIA Constance Jablonski wears Jacket, dress, mask RICK OWENS Rings (her left) DE GRISOGONO Rings (her right) JACOB & CO. Ear cuff REPOSSI Necklace (on owl) DIOR FINE JEWELRY

Queen of Carpathia

Jacquelyn Jablonski wears Jacket and boots ALEXANDER WANG Pants HELMUT LANG Gloves FRATELLI ORISINI Earrings and necklace BULGARI Ring (her left) DE GRISOGONO Ring (her right pinky) BULGARI Diamond solitaire ring (her right ring finger, left) and Celtic ring (her right middle finger) SOTHEBYâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DIAMONDS Yellow diamond solitaire rings (her right ring and index fingers) DE BEERS Rings (in eyes of skull, from left) JACOB & CO. and DIOR FINE JEWELRY

Queen of AOSHIMA

Sui He wears Jacket and dress GIVENCHY BY RICCARDO TISCI Rings FABERGÉ On lips, ESTÉE LAUDER Vivid Shine Lipstick in fireball Makeup TOM PECHEUX for Estée Lauder Hair ORLANDO PITA for Orlo Salon Manicure Fleury Rose Set design Steve Halterman On-set producer Kimberly Siedentopf (Stardust Visions) Special thanks friedmanbenda.com, evolutionstore.com, salon94.com

Skirt ALTUZARRA Tights (throughout) FALKE

Photography BRIGITTE NIEDERMAIR Eight legs adorned by MICHAELA DOSAMANTES

Coat and fur gilet LANVIN

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Sweater and skirt HERMÃ&#x2C6;S

Skirt BALLY Set design Steve Halterman On-set producer Chris Bradford (Stardust Visions)

Created by AMANDA HARLECH Photography ANTHONY MAULE 140

Jennifer Sullins wears Jacket ANGELS THE COSTUMIERS Lace blouse DOLCE & GABBANA Silk collar ASHMANâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S ANTIQUES & OLD LACE Beaded bodice HOPE & HARLEQUIN Red silk drape (over arm) JOSS GRAHAM Tartan kilts McQ ALEXANDER McQUEEN Pearl strand (as choker) MIKIMOTO Chandelier earrings RALPH LAUREN FINE JEWELRY Brooches and cameo necklace (on kilt pin) VIOLET VINTAGE JEWELLERY Ring HOUSE OF VINTAGE Kilt pin SONIA RYKIEL All ribbons VV ROULEAUX

Dress, veil, peacock feather fan JOSS GRAHAM Jewelry (on head) CHANEL Diamond and emerald necklace MOUSSAIEFF Pearl necklace N.OOR All bracelets and rings AMRAPALI On lips, DIOR Rouge Dior Lipstick in zinnia red

Embroidered dress VALENTINO Jacket ASHMANâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S ANTIQUES & OLD LACE Tartan sash (on shoulder) MEG ANDREWS ANTIQUE COSTUMES & TEXTILES Shawl (around waist) JOSS GRAHAM Green brooch (on shawl) AMRAPALI Sapphire and diamond necklace CHOPARD Beaded necklaces, Shiva pendant, beaded bracelets (on both hands) SHAMBALLA JEWELS Gold ring (her left) CHROME HEARTS Silver cuff (her left) DAVID YURMAN Hand jewelry (her right) EINA AHLUWALIA

Black lace beaded dress MICHAEL KORS Tartan bodice (over dress) MEG ANDREWS ANTIQUE COSTUMES & TEXTILES Tartan pants, kilt, apron KTZ SOHO Lace-up booties SERGIO ROSSI Turban JOSS GRAHAM Pendant (on turban) AMRAPALI Gold collar and gold necklace PEBBLE LONDON Blue tartan ribbon VV ROULEAUX Cuff (her left) and rose gold bangle (her right) VAN CLEEF & ARPELS Beaded necklace (on right arm) SHAMBALLA JEWELS Ring CHROME HEARTS On eyes, M.A.C COSMETICS Kohl Power Eye Pencil in feline

Blouse CHLOÉ Collar ASHMAN’S ANTIQUES & OLD LACE Pants EQUIPMENT Sari JOSS GRAHAM Pearl and silver collar, pearl and silver necklace, gold bracelet (her left) AMRAPALI Bijoux necklace and popcorn necklace DAVID YURMAN Silver bracelets and rings CHROME HEARTS Toe ring HOUSE OF VINTAGE Silver headdress (on bed) PEBBLE LONDON

I

sla Buchanan could never imagine exile. Her home was bound by the slough of mist above the loch, the heather and kestrels in the shiver of wind above the moors, the rain blurring the granite cliffs of Mull—snow-light, gun-metal skies, the pagan midnight of woodland. The youngest of five daughters, she had hoped that her father would choose to keep her close in his castle, overhanging the swell and pound of the firth where she had learned to follow the dint of a salmon in the current or a stag on the ridge. Captain Buchanan was a widower. His daughters reminded him of what he had lost. He married each one off at 16 with a strip of moorland, a dowry of linen, and an allowance so mean they would forget him. The lucrative marriage market of the East India Company’s young bucks was the last resort for his wildest, youngest child, who snubbed the advances of Scotland’s finest lairds and refused lessons from dour arthritic aunts who suggested a life as a governess. Isla was sent to Hyderabad to live with her aunt—she had married well and promised the same for the captain’s daughter.

Isla caught the young Prince Chandu’s eye. He was enchanted by this Scottish girl who rode with such grit, who could train a hawk, who could let slip the red silk leash of his cheetah to bring down a gazelle grazing deep in the water meadows. They would meet in secret. She sent him watercolors and a crown of white egret feathers. He taught her to dance to the sitar. She read him Burns from behind a carved wooden screen, deep in his gardens, beneath the tamarind trees. She became his Scheherazade. He sent spies to follow her palanquin through the bazaars. He offered her rubies and his hand in marriage.

Captain Buchanan disowned his heathen daughter. After weeks when the very air was scented with attar of roses and her prince attended her every need, he left her. The harem guards escorted her to her new home. Honor was her middle name and the harem was dishonorable. Her heart broke among the cynical devadasis and tawaifs—the dancing girls who spent their days gossiping and oiling each other’s hair. She could not share Chandu.

The perfume and silks sickened her and she began to long for the purity of the white sea bird’s cry and the honesty of the rain. She began to dress in her tartans again. Kohl became her war paint. She vowed never to kiss his lips again. She became adept at knife throwing.

She read Sanskrit and trained as a warrior. She learned acceptance from the Sufis. Her rage became her teacher and she began to worship Kali, the goddess of destruction. She learned to forget earthly attachments and slip into a rhythm beneath the surface. She dreamed she could fly through a prism. She sang Scottish airs and danced Highland reels. The women in the harem kept out of her way. She stopped eating. They informed Prince Chandu that she was mad. The Prince had never lost what he considered his.

His territories increased. He built more palaces. But this strange, pale child from the North had his heart twisted in her cool, white hands. They had become stained with his blood. The night Isla Buchanan died, Prince Chandu dreamed that Kali, the destroyer of the ego, drove her heel into his throat. All his vanity rose to meet her. His servants found him dead at dawn, naked, blue as Kali, wearing a crown of white egret feathers.

Words AMANDA HARLECH

Makeup VIOLETTE Hair FRANCO GOBBI Manicure Trish Lomax using OPI Set design Alex Heyes Prop coordinator Well Colin On-set producer Jenn Wirtz (Stardust Visions) Special thanks Big Sky Studios, London All carpets provided by The Rug Company at Harrods

146

Silk bolero and silk shawl with gold braid (on bed) JOSS GRAHAM Pants BEYOND RETRO Boots FENDI Bone collar necklace and bird-skull necklace ROADKILL COUTURE-EATONNOTT Gold necklace AMRAPALI Ring DOMINIC JONES

Copyright and trademark HEWLETT & MARTIN

Photography JAMIE MORGAN

Magda Laguinge wears Jacket CALVIN KLEIN COLLECTION Tutu SANSHA

149

Sweater NINA RICCI Coat KENZO Hat KSI NYC

Dress EMILIO PUCCI On hair, BUMBLE AND BUMBLE Hairdresserâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Invisible Oil

Coat MAX MARA Helmet MINISTRY OF ACQUISITIONS On lips, DIOR Rouge Dior Nude Lipcolor in indiscrete

Jacket and skirt FENDI Makeup JAMES KALIARDOS Hair JIMMY PAUL for Bumble and bumble Manicure Fleury Rose Set design Jesse Kaufman (Magnet) On-set producer Chris Bradford (Stardust Visions) Black-and-white printing Peter Guest at The Image Retouching artmediapartners.com

Marte Mei Van Haaster wears Top ROBERTO CAVALLI Skirt GIVENCHY HAUTE COUTURE

BY RICCARDO TISCI Bag (in stroller) HERMÃ&#x2C6;S Bracelet DIOR FINE JEWELRY Throughout this story, Shoes GIANVITO ROSSI Tights WOLFORD Stroller BAUDOU MEUBLE

A NEW MOTHER, A NEW SILHOUETTE Photography JEAN-BAPTISTE MONDINO Marie Piovesan wears Sweater, vest, pants BOUCHRA JARRAR N k Necklace CHANEL FINE JEWELRY Bow MOKUBA

Marie wears Jumpsuit and sweater BALENCIAGA

BY NICOLAS GHESQUIÃ&#x2C6;RE Necklace and bracelet CHANEL FINE JEWELRY

Marie wears Sweater and pants CÃ&#x2030;LINE Earrings DE GRISOGONO

Marie wears Coat JUNYA WATANABE

Marte wears Top and jacket NINA RICCI Skirt RICK OWENS Ring CHANEL FINE JEWELRY

Marte wears Shirt EQUIPMENT Skirt RICK OWENS Ring CHANEL FINE JEWELRY

Marte wears Cape, shirt, pants SALVATORE FERRAGAMO Bag (in stroller) HERMÈS Brooch LOUIS VUITTON Bow MOKUBA Makeup GEMMA SMITH-EDHOUSE Hair MARC LOPEZ Manicure Brenda Abrial Digital technician Olivier Looren (DTouch) On-set producer Mia Meliava (Stardust Visions) Retouching Stéphane Virlogeux (Janvier) Location and equipment rental Studio Daylight, Paris

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So Clicquot, So Responsible.

Champagne © 2012 Imported by Moët Hennessy USA Inc., New York, NY

picturehousenyc.com creative retouching + lab + capture + prepress

Photography SEBASTIAN FAENA Makeup GEMMA SMITH-EDHOUSE Hair JORDAN M.

available at barneys new york

ANTHONYVACCARELLO.COM

Photography SEBASTIAN FAENA Makeup GEMMA SMITH-EDHOUSE Hair JORDAN M.

alaia.fr didine photographed by bruce weber