On Loverboy and the Politics of Queerness

LOVERBOY

 

 

I. 

 

Just a brief note of congratulations to Charles Jeffrey and his Loverboy label for notching up ten years in the world of fashion; a decade of "tartan, trash, animalism, anarchy, paganism and punk" as one appreciative critic wrote in a Guardian piece celebrating Jeffrey's achievement [1]. 

 

If almost inevitably one comes away from 'The Lore of LOVERBOY' exhibition at Somerset House [2] feeling that one's seen much of it before having grown up in the world of Westwood, Galliano, and McQueen, nevertheless one also comes away wishing that one was forty years younger and able to enter into Jeffrey's world unburdened by memory of the above.

 

And, to be fair, his aesthetic sensibility isn't simply a pale imitation of anyone else's; Jeffrey's designs do have something unique about them, even if they unfold within a certain tradition and fashion history. And I'm always going to love clothes that make smile like the outfits shown above ...  

 

 

II. 

 

However, if I were to be critical, then perhaps Jeffrey's work is just a little too much at times; too theatrical, too playful, too romantic, too rooted in a hedonistic club scene ...

 

For better or for worse, I belong to a generation that would rather see the word HATE than HOPE sloganised on a jumper and my politics do not exclusively revolve around questions of gender and sexuality.  

 

And as for the increasingly tired and tiresome concept of queerness - one which Jeffrey repeatedly refers us to - I'm almost tempted to echo what one (queer) writer says here: "Queerness does not ensure that we are more compassionate, more loving, or more fair, or that we are kinder, stronger, realer people." [3] 

 

That is to say, queerness doesn't make virtuous or morally superior - nor even more interesting, alas, when it has merely become another identity and commercial selling point. 

                 

 

Notes

 

[1] Ellie Violet Bramley, 'An absolute joy: 10 years of Charles Jeffrey's playful Loverboy', The Guardian (9 June 2024): click here.  

[2] For details of The Lore of LOVERBOY exhibition at Somerset House, click here. Thanks to Ian Trowell for bringing this retrospective to my attention. 

[3] See Queer is Boring, 'Why Queer is Boring: An Introduction' (21 Feb 2014), on medium.com: click here. 

Where There is Woman There is Swan

The Swan Maidens by Dagfin Wereskiold (1892-1977) 

Oslo City Hall, Norway
Photo: George Rex

imagesgeorgerex.blogspot.com

 

 

Who doesn't love swan maidens? Those beautiful creatures belonging to the mytho-pornographic imagination who shapeshift from human form to bird form and back again. 

 

Tales of young girls bathing in a pool of water are already sexually charged; but that these nymphs might also slip in and out of a skin (or magical robe) of pure white feathers only intensifies the erotic element and it's no wonder many a man has lost his heart to a swan maiden (though it should be noted that forced marriages rarely end well).   

 

As might be expected, variants of the swan maiden myth can be found all over the world. But whilst I don't deny the universality of the this tale - where there is woman there is swan - I do tend to think of it as having special significance within Nordic culture. Thus it is, for example, that we find the colourful relief wood carving pictured at the top of this post in the entrance courtyard of the City Hall in Oslo. 

 

The work, by Norwegian artist Dagfin Wereskiold, depicts three valkyries (Alrund, Svankvit and Alvit) who, when not flying above the battlefields and deciding the fate of fallen warriors, had a penchant for appearing in swan form. I think what I like most about the piece is the fact that the figures seem to be wearing 1950s style full circle skirts and getting ready to dance, rather than go for a swim.     

 

Still, maybe we shouldn't be surprised that swan maidens love to dance as their story is almost certainly the basis for the ballet Swan Lake (1876). 

 

Interestingly, whilst the revised 1895 version of Tchaikovsky's ballet depicted the maidens as mortal women who had been transformed into swans via the curse of an evil sorcerer, the original libretto of 1877 depicted them as actual swan maidens who could transform from human to bird and back again at will and were not the victims of magic needing to be rescued.

 

As I think it important - from a feminist perspective - that a swan maiden is not denied her autonomy or in any way disempowered, then if we are to imagine her today it's best she keep her feathers on and look tough enough to survive within the contemporary world; look rather like the way that Alexander McQueen imagined her in his Fall 2009 ready to wear collection (The Horn of Plenty):   

Model: Sigrid Agren

 

 
Note: for an earlier post related to this one, click here. 

Forever Dead and Lovely: Notes on Izima Kaoru's Landscapes with a Corpse

Izima Kaoru: Kimura Yoshino wears Alexander McQueen #484 (2007)

Part of the Landscapes with a Corpse series

Galerie Andreas Binder (Munich)

artnet.com

 

No matter how we die, we will travel up to the world 

beyond the sky without regretting how we lived

The phrase drop dead gorgeous, popular with necrophiles and thanatologists alike, also inspired the Japanese fashion photographer Izima Kaoru to stage elaborate death scenes featuring attractive models and well-known actresses dressed in expensive designer outfits that oblige viewers to consider the cultural fascination with the beautiful female corpse.

The sequence of images begin with wide-angle shots and gradually narrow to close-ups of the model. The resulting pictures look rather like film stills and remind us that there's nothing more cinematic than the death of a beautiful woman (to paraphrase Poe), although Kaoru's work demands to be contextualised within a wider art history; one that includes traditional Japanese woodcuts [Ukiyo-e].

It's also important to understand the influence of the Buddhist practice of maranasati - a musing on one's own mortality using various visualisation techniques - upon Kaoru's photography. Thus it is that, prior to taking any pictures, Kaoru asks his models to imagine the circumstances surrounding their deaths (where, when, how, etc.) and to consider also what would constitute the most sightly way of exiting this world (leaving behind a beautiful corpse is never an easy task). 

In sum, Kaoru's pictures are a highly stylised and aesthetically pleasing form of what we in the West term memento mori and not merely images to do with fashion, sex, and cinema born of the floating world (though even if they were that alone, they'd still appeal to me). 

Izima Kaoru: Kimura Yoshino wears Alexander McQueen #483 (2007)

Part of the Landscapes with a Corpse series

Galerie Andreas Binder (Munich)

artnet.com

See: Izima Kaoru, Landscapes with a Corpse, German and English text by Roy Exley, Yuko Hasegawa and Peter Weiermair, (Hatje Kantz, 2008), 192 pages, 171 colour illustrations.

See also the documentary film by Chad Fahs, Landscapes with a Corpse (2014), which follows Izima Kaoru on a journey to create new work and perhaps find the answer to the question of what best constitutes a beautiful death. 

Readers interested in a sister post to this one - on Melanie Pullen's High Fashion Crime Scenes - should click here.

In Praise of the Ballet Boot (and Other Kinky Forms of Footwear)

 Leather lace-up knee-length ballet boots 

The so-called ballet boot is a style of footwear given us by the pornographic imagination, that ingenuously integrates the box toe of the ballerina's pointe shoe with an ultra high heel, forcing the foot of the wearer to assume a near vertical position and miraculously transcend the ugly flatness of nature. Obviously, they're not designed as casual wear or for comfort; novices can experience painful lower leg cramps, for example. But for those who admire the art of shoe making, they're a perfect combination of culture, cruelty and contemporary calceology.      

Usually, the height of the heel is a minimum of seven inches; long enough to ensure that the foot is fully extended, but not so long as to prevent standing and tottering about. Knee-high and thigh-high versions will often incorporate zips, buckles, and padlocks as well as elaborate lacing; these things - in addition to the material that the boots are made of - being of crucial import to the devotee (the devil being in the detail, as every fetishist knows).   

Apart from the pointe shoe - which was originally conceived in response to the desire for dancers to appear ethereal, like the much loved Marie Taglioni, credited with being the first ballerina to genuinely dance en pointe in 1832 - another precursor of the ballet boot was the Viennese fetish boot (c. 1900), which came with an eleven inch spiked heel that made standing (let along walking) nigh impossible, but came in handy for anal penetration of the submissive male subject.     

Finally, mention must be made of Alexander McQueen's iconic Armadillo boot from the S/S 2010 collection entitled Plato's Atlantis - one of his most astonishing creations for the catwalk. Designed like the ballet boot with high heel and box toe, this outrageously beautiful ankle boot, hand-carved from wood and covered in snakeskin or iridescent paillettes, not only extends the foot and elongates the leg, but seems to organically fuse with the wearers flesh, transforming her into some kind of alien being.
     

Although somewhat challenging to wear - not only because of their height and shape, but also their weight - a bulge designed above the toes enables the boot to be lifted relatively more easily when walking; not that many women will ever be fortunate enough to experience wearing them, as only twenty-one pairs were ever made.

In 2015, Lady Gaga snapped up the three pairs shown above, auctioned by Christie's New York, for $295,000.

The Ghost of Alexander McQueen

Jellyfish ensemble and Armadillo shoes, Plato's Atlantis, (SS10)

Model Polina Kasina. Photo © Lauren Greenfield/INSTITUTE

 

The ghost of Alexander McQueen will continue to haunt the British fashion industry for decades to come, as the current exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum evidences. Savage Beauty is the first major retrospective of McQueen's work to be presented in Europe, but it certainly won't be the last. 

Why? Because he was a fucking genius whose clothes didn't simply make heads turn, but spin with a mixture of astonishment and repulsion until sick and dizzy with disconcerted pleasure. Quite literally, one feels overawed by his designs and many of the dresses displayed are as difficult to view as they would be to wear and as they undoubtedly were to create and manufacture. 

The devil is in the detail, they say, and McQueen's clothes are so detailed that their exquisite beauty and fine craftsmanship doesn't disguise their malevolent and sinister qualities. All fashion designers attempt to give style to the body and this, of necessity, involves an element of cruelty. But McQueen takes this further than anyone; his dark romanticism and gothic queerness occasionally hint at a brutal and austere futuristic even fascist aesthetic, rather than a playful fetishism or an ironic sado-masochism. 

McQueen wanted the women who wore his clothes to look powerful and terrifying; like alien beings from another time and another world. He wasn't interested in simply provoking tabloid outrage or scandalising the middle-classes; rather, he wanted to instill elements of fear in the human heart in the hope it might beat a little faster. 

Notes

I have chosen an image from McQueen's Plato's Atlantis collection (SS10), not because I think it's his best work, but it was his final collection, presented just before his death in February of that year. Inspired not only by the myth of Atlantis, but also Darwin's theory of evolution, it featured fabulous footwear; including the infamous Armadillo shoes. Click here to see the catwalk show.

Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty runs at the Victoria and Albert Museum (London) from 14 March - 2 August 2015. For further information, including ticket prices and opening times, visit the Victoria and Albert Museum website (click here).