Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Milan, New York, Paris, and London. Why Not Lagos?

Africa fashion week: Lagos event set to become fixture of global style calendar



Not so long ago, the idea of an African fashion scene was an optimistic stretch. Now, the organisers behind the Arise Africa fashion week believe those days could soon be very last season.

Inaugurated in Cape Town in 2009, the event this year, which ended on Sunday and took place in Nigeria's vibrant commercial capital, was such a success that organisers plan to make Lagos a major fixture in the global fashion calendar, and take their designs around the world.

"You've got Milan, London, New York and Paris. Why not Lagos?" organiser Penny McDonald said. "We've been invited to showcase in New York, and to return to Cape Town and other places, but there's such an appetite for fashion in Lagos that we were comfortable with a vision for making this the fifth fashion capital of the world."

It started almost two days late, but the show eventually lived up to its name. For one week, Lagos was graced with glamour, cries of "Hello darling!" and fashion high priests such as Ozwald Boateng and supermodel Alek Wek. Backstage more than one temper tantrum ensued over improperly steamed dresses and nail polish colour choices, while ladies sharpened their elbows to catch a glimpse of male model and reported Rihanna love interest Dudley O'Shaughnessy.

Seventy-seven rising African or African-based designers were whittled down to five winners to show at next year's New York fashion week, the glamour queen of all fashion weeks. Among them was Boateng, the youngest and first black man to open a shop in London's prestigious Savile Row.

From Abidjan, the capital of Ivory Coast, known as the "Paris of Africa", to fashion deserts such as Somalia, entourages were flown in to Lagos on all-expenses paid trips funded by the show's founder Nduka Obaigbena, an ebullient Nigerian media baron nicknamed The Duke. "This is about putting Africa on the map. There is an African brand of style, elegance and beauty," Obaigbena, dressed head-to-toe in white, said as he mingled among fashionistas, an apparently bottomless martini in hand.

Nigerians don't do things by halves when it comes to fashion, and the shows rivalled the creative talent found in global fashion hotspots. Long-legged women – and a few men – in heels tottered across polished marbled floors. Runway lights glittered off sequinned bosoms and music pumped as models sashayed down the catwalks. Any wardrobe malfunctions were eagerly applauded.

For designers struggling to break through preconceptions in the European-dominated industry, the week was a chance to shine. "I don't subscribe to the school of thought that there is such a thing as African fashion. I think the whole print fabric and ankara [a traditional west-African lace fabric] thing is limiting," said Fatima Garba, whose House of Farrah boutique attracts moneyed crowds in the capital, Abuja. "It's overdone and overplayed. It's always animal prints or tribal or whatever. I want to design clothes that an African lady or a woman in Alaska feels they can wear. I prefer to go left when everyone is going right," she added, dressed in towering red heels and a sparkling purple top.

Nigerian designer Maki Oh's models paraded down the runway in suits whose frills and sheer materials would perhaps be a little too va-va-voom for the office, but will look at home when she displays on the New York catwalks this coming September. Also chosen to accompany her was South African Gavin Rajah, whose flowing pastel clothes elicited wistful sighs from the audience, and the UK-based Tsemaye Binitie.

Tradition-inspired clothes made an appearance too, ranging from tiny native corals woven into Kinabuti's clothes (showcased by models from Nigeria's coastal cities), to bold prints from South African label PPQ. Delicious pastel colours were draped in ways that recalled Sahelian nomadic clothes by Nigerian brand Amede.

But even fashion isn't immune to the everyday problems that frustrate Nigerians. The country's electricity supply is notoriously erratic, averaging four hours a day. The first day of the show was almost scrapped after generators needed to power the dozens of marquees and glittering lights had broken down.

The textiles industry is also more than a little threadbare. In an attempt to boost it, Nigeria's government has belatedly lifted a ban on importing materials. But northern-based cotton mills and dye-houses, once frequented by Italian designers in search of top quality fabrics, have fallen into disrepair as decades of successive governments have focused on the oil-rich south.

Still, the event showed a glimpse of how the continent's fashion industry could grow. "It's amazing. Nigerian fashion has evolved so much. The talent has always been there but we're not used to seeing it showcased like this. I am blown away," said Uti Nwachukwu, the winner of last year's Big Brother Africa. "I keep seeing strong, sexy and confident clothes. It's awesome. It's like my taste in women walking down the catwalk," he added, surrounded by a gaggle of breathless female fans.

Monday, 16 November 2009

No wonder Luella went bust. British fashion is too snobby by half!


Does my wardrobe contain anything by Luella Bartley? One of the bags she designed for Mulberry back in 2003, perhaps? No. Too many pockets and fiddly bits.

One of her own Gisele bags? No. Far too expensive. A trouser suit covered in the alphabet? Oh dear God no.

Personally, I have always found the designer, who announced last week that her label has ceased trading, to epitomise the worst of British fashion.

Disproportionately huge amounts of praise from the fashion press, legions of celebrity followers, but very little real wearability.

After studying fashion at St Martins, Luella Bartley worked first in the fashion departments of the London Evening Standard and Vogue before she left, on a drunken dare, to set up her own label.

Her first collection, for spring/summer 2000, was a British-inspired collection entitled Daddy, I Want A Pony and was shown at her friend's flat; her model mates gave their services free of charge.

The fashion press adored her take on the English eccentric: floral sprigged frocks and slimline mod suits, all with a hint of tomboyish punk.

They loved her rock-chick cool, her messy blonde hair, her gaggle of photogenic children and photographer husband. And then it all went horribly wrong.

Last Wednesday, Luella Bartley Limited was forced out of business after its main investor and global licensee, Club 21, withdrew financial backing.

The label was also hit by the recent collapse of Carla Carini, an Italian manufacturer that made her products.

This means Luella Bartley is unable to deliver orders for her spring/summer 2010 collection, which is a huge shame, given it was her strongest showing yet:

'Where for the past few seasons every dress had been multicoloured, flower-printed, beribboned, buckled, or frilled up in various pop-ironic ways, for this outing her clothes have become almost straightforward, in a mid-Sixties Sundaybest sort of way,' trumpeted Style.com.

Note that I am quoting Style.com for the glowing verdict on Luella's final show. I begged for a ticket, but was told I would not be welcome.

Even during a global recession, the designers, the fashion press and the PRs still set too much store by how cool and 'niche' a label is, whether or not Pixie Geldof and Alexa Chung are perched in the front row, and which DJ is spinning the tunes at the after-party.

This newspaper was deemed too ' mainstream' to view what would turn out to be her final collection, while I was judged too potentially critical.

The thing is, I don't care how cool the clothes are. What we really want to know is: are they well made, do they fit, and what is the provenance of the fabrics?

Will they look smart for work, sexy on a date, and will they last and prove good value or will they fall apart?

Sadly, these requirements seem to take second place when it comes to British fashion. Take the clamour that surrounded the show by Henry Holland during London Fashion Week in September. The clothes did not live up to the hype.

I attended the show. God only knows how or why I was allocated a ticket, but I was.

But I was not allocated a ticket for Matthew Williamson, or Jonathan Saunders (I was once forcibly ejected from one of his London shows), Antonio Berardi, Duro Olowu, Giles Deacon or Christopher Kane.

Frustrated beyond belief at the end of London Fashion Week's 25th anniversary celebrations, I wrote to the chairman of the British Fashion Council, Jaeger boss Harold Tillman, complaining at the attitude of the designers and their publicists.

'While I commend your efforts to put London Fashion Week on the world stage, I must tell you it remains elitist, putting being "trendy" before its more important role as an employer of very many people in retail jobs.'

I also pointed out to Harold Tillman that I never have a problem with labels such as Dior, Chanel or Prada. I have not, as yet, received a reply.

It is tragic for everyone she employed that Luella Bartley has gone out of business, but it is a shame, too, that more established British names - such as Amanda Wakeley, Caroline Charles, Betty Jackson and Paul Costelloe - are largely ignored by the fashion press, simply because they have fewer celebrity friends.

I have written before about the fact that an 'edgy' (what an awful word) male stylist, upon leaving a classically beautiful Jasper Conran show, sighed: 'I don't see the point of Jasper Conran.'

That is the sort of exasperating, out-of-touch attitude that will be the death of our home-grown industry.

British fashion schools produce so many young people with talent. London has always led the way when it comes to new ideas. But if we want our industry to succeed, it needs to have more substance and much less style.

Why not encourage our art schools and fashion colleges to concentrate on skills such as weaving and spinning and pattern cutting, not new wacky ways with stretch PVC?

One of the reasons Stella McCartney has flourished is because she honed her tailoring skills on Savile Row. Paul Smith is another rare British success story.

The brand has doubled its turnover in the past five years, posting a 15 per cent rise in profits in 2008. You could never imagine Smith embarking on anything for a drunken dare.

The 63-year-old said recently, 'I've always preferred the creative process of designing and selling clothes to the idea of putting on a poncey fashion show. It's their 15 minutes of fame: pure, self-indulgent theatre.

How many girls were there this year in horns or neck braces with bare breasts? It wouldn't matter if they didn't take it all so seriously, but the fashion world is a dangerous, superficial and fickle place.'

In September 2007 I wrote on these pages: 'I find it unhelpful and frankly suicidal that new stars including Duro Olowu, Marios Schwab and Jonathan Saunders barred me from their shows, preferring to restrict the guest list to fashion editors from cutting-edge magazines with plenty of cool but absolutely no readers; some of these designers will inevitably go bust.'

London's desire to be 'cool' above all else has just claimed yet another casualty.

Article: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1228052/LIZ-JONES-No-wonder-Luella-went-bust--British-fashion-snobby-half.html