Showing posts with label Lindz Laments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lindz Laments. Show all posts
Jun 9, 2010
Dec 7, 2009
sleeeeep
Another week (a frigid one), another Lindz Lohan shoot that bears discussion.
So....okay. "Fashionart." I am continually guilty of that maybe-twee stringing words together approach to communication. That's not problematic to me (though it is an unaesthetic instance, containing, as it does, letters to form "shit" and "fart"). The clumsy bedding of fashion (a word--btw--that goes the way of "classy" more and more each day) and art for the sake of cash and noise seems a thing best left in this near-past decade. The two will meet always, but I think we ought to tread lightly for a while, get cautious and critical, dialogue rather than sign contracts (leave room for artists to be genuinely critical of the boundless market). And muses. Gawwd. I hate the very concept, antiquated, condescending to women (or rather, beautiful and/or eccentric persons).
The photographer's Page Six ramble ending in that supposed Lindz soundbite, "I want to make this iconic." ----
She is one of those figures whose very image is valuable, despite its wide availability. She has a whole life in pictures, daily pictures, tabloid pictures, pictures that contain sudden, instant, artless information (where she was and what she wore and what she was on and who she was with and what time it was and what her hair and nails looked like). She looks to us like a photograph. And really, the only iconic images (except these cuz duh) of Lindz are tabloid shots (ahem). She sells all kinds of magazines, an apt cover model, who does (unlike most actresses) know clothes and wear them well. But a set of dark, strange poses with a hazy "color story" about the 90s. Yawn.
She looks unwell (and that's not so glamorous as it has been [in say, 1995 or 2005]). En este momento, Lindz has this muscled thinness, a body that somehow signals struggle, not health. Wan, sad, raspy, a mad addict (and therefore *maybe* a kind of parasite, full of hunger and wiles and less and less luck). What a bummer.
So....okay. "Fashionart." I am continually guilty of that maybe-twee stringing words together approach to communication. That's not problematic to me (though it is an unaesthetic instance, containing, as it does, letters to form "shit" and "fart"). The clumsy bedding of fashion (a word--btw--that goes the way of "classy" more and more each day) and art for the sake of cash and noise seems a thing best left in this near-past decade. The two will meet always, but I think we ought to tread lightly for a while, get cautious and critical, dialogue rather than sign contracts (leave room for artists to be genuinely critical of the boundless market). And muses. Gawwd. I hate the very concept, antiquated, condescending to women (or rather, beautiful and/or eccentric persons).
The photographer's Page Six ramble ending in that supposed Lindz soundbite, "I want to make this iconic." ----
She is one of those figures whose very image is valuable, despite its wide availability. She has a whole life in pictures, daily pictures, tabloid pictures, pictures that contain sudden, instant, artless information (where she was and what she wore and what she was on and who she was with and what time it was and what her hair and nails looked like). She looks to us like a photograph. And really, the only iconic images (except these cuz duh) of Lindz are tabloid shots (ahem). She sells all kinds of magazines, an apt cover model, who does (unlike most actresses) know clothes and wear them well. But a set of dark, strange poses with a hazy "color story" about the 90s. Yawn.
She looks unwell (and that's not so glamorous as it has been [in say, 1995 or 2005]). En este momento, Lindz has this muscled thinness, a body that somehow signals struggle, not health. Wan, sad, raspy, a mad addict (and therefore *maybe* a kind of parasite, full of hunger and wiles and less and less luck). What a bummer.
Oct 27, 2009
Woah Fay-shun
The Sunday Times (of London) Style Magazine is tawdry where ours is fussy (either way...fuck 'em). But this sort of drugged, high-class ho in hotel room with chidren's toys concept falls flat everytime, outdoes the typical levels of tawdry and pointless and drivel (even if it so aptly stars Lindz Lohan). A recent Elle shoot of this type just sent me reeeeeeling. I guess Fay-shun can't help but wear its unhealth on its sleeve. But women dressing as girls is just so...defeatist. I want to see more of this. And I'm not entirely joking!
Oct 8, 2009
who says
I definitely understand why there was such a negative reaction to the collaborative(?) Spain-Hollywood-Parisss Ungaro collection this week. It was "crafted" in a matter of three weeks by an established, hardworking, young designer, Estrella Archs, under the bizarro creative control of Lindzz Lohan, a testy, workless, drugged actress, all bones and poles and borrowed jewelry and hair extensions. Fay-shun Folks were miffed that a serious member of their elite workforce was made to (or made to appear to be made to) garner approval from a flailing chick a decade+ her junior with no professional experience beyond a daffy legging line and a few trainwreck ego-a-ego sessions with Kaiser Karl featured in Interview Magazine or Purple Magazine or whatever (or both?)...the crowds came to jeer. I'm not sure the fact of the garments mattered at all; in order to ensure their jobs, their world, all of the professional professionals must needs despise the publicity ploy that was La Lohan's hire. And good. Fine. It's just read this....
Umm.....you "have to choose"????!! I don't like that, not a bit. A diversity of pursuits, projects, media is ideal, and not problematic in the least (and didn't we do away with those "a manly painter paints" biases in the 70s?). Fame is the trouble--FAME PARADING AS ABILITY, such a fallacy. Fame sells. It has the "ability" to sell, but fame does not guarantee a thoughtful or fine record or collection of clothes (it doesn't make this impossible either). We need to inspect the slovenly business practice of handing opportunities to the "already opportuned," whether they be actors or actors' children (ugh). But if anything, artists/makers should be encouraged to make more and more of the new and unfamiliar and other-than-typical and challenging. I write and sing and take pictures (and I would totes do a movie or television role or QVC spot if given the chance). I don't think this is disingenuous or flaky. I think it's natural, natural to not see demarcations and rules everywhere, to not feel forbidden from treading fresh ground (or old ground...whatever ground).
One note: did Lindzz even glance at Ungaro collections of the past? Nothing in this collection is even Ungaro referential. A creative director of an old house that functions sans-founder is firstthing given a key to an archive (a rich, rare archive), whomever they hire next really ought to use that key (...obv coke-y jokey).
Jul 28, 2009
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