Showing posts with label horst p. horst. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horst p. horst. Show all posts

7 Aug 2019

To Think on One's Feet

Horst P. Horst: Barefoot Beauty (1941)


Feet: some people find them very beautiful and sexually attractive; others think them repulsive and shameful.

But, love 'em or hate them, the fact remains that plates are not without evolutionary, cultural and philosophical importance. Whilst Heidegger makes a huge fuss about the human hand, Bataille is more interested in the foot, particularly le gros orteil, which he regards as the defining feature of man; i.e., that which distinguishes us from other apes.

I don't know if that's true, but the fact that we can stand up and walk tall on our own two feet is certainly crucial. Freud argues that civilization begins with man's fateful decision to adopt an upright posture, with his nose in the air (this latter fact leading directly to the decline in his sense of smell and, subsequently, his association of bodily dirt and odours with shameful animality and base materialism).

Our habitual bipedalism developed rather belatedly in evolutionary terms and the human foot with its unique anatomical structure is a comparatively recent assemblage of bones, joints, tendons, muscles, etc. which might help to explain why our feet are so susceptible to all kinds of problems (from flat feet to swollen feet; from blisters to bunions).

Other maladies - including dodgy knees, bad backs, and hernias - are also associated with the fact that man likes to stand erect. Perhaps this is why in so many cultures feet are held in such low regard; the fact that they are often dirty and prone to sweat also adds to their perceived baseness. Arguably, only the sexual organs have a more degraded status within the heirarchy of the body.

Living as we do, we moderns, from the spiritual upper centres, we dream of becoming angels; i.e., heavenly creatures who have feet that never touch the ground. But, as a Lawrentian and as something of a podophile, I would challenge such idealism. I think we should overcome our secret horror for our terrestrial origins in mud and learn to value the naked reality of feet that are intensely alive with the desire for touch - as well as great centres of resistance with which to kick! 


See: Georges Bataille, 'The Big Toe', Visions of Excess, ed. Allan Stoekl, trans. Allan Stoekl, with Carl R. Lovitt and Donald M. Leslie Jr., (The University of Minnesota Press, 1985), pp. 20-23. Click here to read this essay on line. 

This post is for Mimi.  


2 Feb 2019

Rocking the Lobster Look with Elsa Schiaparelli, Salvador Dalí and Cosmo Kramer

Lobster evening dress by Elsa Schiaparelli in collaboration with Salvador Dalí
Michael Richards as Cosmo Kramer in Seinfeld wearing his lobster shirt 


I.

The surreal genius of Michael Richards as Cosmo Kramer in Seinfeld is not to everyone's taste. In fact, of the four central characters I find Kramer the least interesting and sympathetic. But I do like his comic hipster dress sense, including the short-sleeved white lobster shirt with red print.   

I don't know from where the character drew his sartorial inspiration, but it's nice to think that this particular item is an hommage to the work of the great Spanish artist Salvador Dalí, who had a penchant for marine crustaceans with their hard protective shells and soft insides, particularly lobsters, which appear in several of his iconic works, including a dress made in collaboration with the Italian fashion designer Elsa Schiaparelli ...       


II.

If Coco Chanel ever had a serious rival, it was Elsa Schiaparelli - one of the most fabulous figures in fashion between the wars, whose designs displayed the influence of several prominent artists, including Dalí and Jean Cocteau, though it should be noted that her great inspiration and teacher was master couturier Paul Poiret.

Punk rockers may be amused to discover, for example, that it was Schiaparelli - and not McLaren and Westwood - who first made clothes with visible zips as a key element of the design. She also loved to experiment with synthetic materials, unusual buttons and outrageous decorative features. It was her designs produced in collaboration with Dalí, however, that remain amongst her best known, including the so-called Lobster Dress of 1937.*

As can be seen from the above photo, the dress was a relatively simple white silk evening dress with a crimson waistband and featuring a large lobster - painted by Dalí - on the skirt. Whilst not as amusing as his Lobster Telephone created the year before, the dress - famously worn by Wallis Simpson - is just as provocative I think, bringing surrealist elements of eroticism and cruelty into haute couture (for Dalí, lobsters invariably symbolised sex and suffering). ** 


Notes

* The three other works that came out of the Schiaparelli-Dalí collaboration are the Tears Dress (1938), a pale blue evening gown printed with rips and tears and worn with a long veil; the Skeleton Dress (1938), a black crêpe number which used trapunto quilting to create ribs, spine, and leg bones; and the Shoe Hat (1937-38), which, as one might guess, is a hat shaped like a high heeled shoe.

** Two years later, at the New York World's Fair (1939), Dalí unveiled a multi-media experience entitled Dream of Venus, which featured semi-naked female models dressed in outfits made of fresh seafood, including lobsters used to cover their genitalia. See the photo below taken by German-American fashion photographer Horst P. Horst.

Surprise musical bonus: click here.