Louche lingerie. Naughty knickers. Silky slips. And bras? Your cup(s) runneth over. Have I got your attention? I thought so.
The V&A exhibition includes this ‘Tamila’ lingerie set from the Agent Provocateur 2015 Soirée collection. Photographer: Sebastian Faena. Model: Eniko Mihalik
These aren’t the sort of treasures you typically find in an esteemed public institution, but London’s Victoria and Albert museum is renowned for its sartorial showcases of wearable art. With well-received exhibitions of Hollywood costumes and last year’s cadre of haute couture fashions from Alexander McQueen under its belt, the design museum now dares to go (almost) bare with “Undressed: A Brief History of Underwear.” (See what they did there?)
Cage crinoline, the ‘Princess Louise Jupon Patent, c. 1871. Credit Victoria and Albert Museum, London
This assemblage of unmentionables, on show until March 12, 2017, date from the 18th century to the present. It’s an eclectic collection ranging from the rather mundane, such as a package of Y-front men’s underwear and ladies’ panties emblazoned with the days of the week, to the decidedly more exotic.
Imagine, for instance, strapping yourself into a 19th century steel crinoline resembling the skeleton of a starved and stunted dinosaur, or lubing up to squeeze into a red and black rubber ensemble of matching bra, corset, thong and stockings (below, second from right, released by House of Harlot in 2015). Neither would look out of place in the Marquis de Sade’s torture chamber.
Installation view of Undressed: A Brief History of Underwear. (c) Victoria and Albert Museum, London
(more…)
I have a confession to make. Well, quite a few, probably, but only one that is relevant to my purposes here.
I’m not a wine expert. There, I’ve said it. My ignorance is not for lack of “research,” mind you, but what little I do know mainly revolves around the world of red and can pretty much be summed up in three sentences:
- Nothing good can come from a £4 bottle of Cotes du Rhone.
- Do not, under any circumstances, drink red wine on your friend’s new white couch. That second bit I learned the hard way—as did my friend.
- I’ve never met a Chateauneuf-du-Pape I wouldn’t drink to the last drop. Then again, I’ll drink most anything to the last drop, as evidenced below.
The current contents of my liquor cabinet. When I say there’s nothing I wouldn’t drink, I mean NOTHING. Well, except maybe my bottle of Spisska Borovicka, which I’m fairly certain is Slovakian for “liquid death.”
Years ago, however, white wine was my tipple of choice. Of course, back then, it generally came from a box. That all changed when a friend of mine vowed to turn me into a red wine woman by uncorking three beefy bottles in one night. (No, that’s not a euphemism). But anyway, it worked.
Now, over the course of an elegant evening at the Andaz London Liverpool Street hotel, my oenophilic education is about to come full circle at an event dedicated to the veneration of pure Chablis.
My host is sommelier and restaurant critic Douglas Blyde. Clad in a velvet blazer and burgundy tie, he paces the room like the love child of a fevered poet and an evangelical preacher, passionately, extemporaneously extolling the virtues of tonight’s favoured French region.
First, though, the bad news. “Chablis has had an annus horribilis,” Blyde admits. The region has suffered hail, floods, frost—nearly every tragedy you can image, aside from a Biblical plague of locusts. Up to 50 percent of this year’s crop has already been devastated.
“But that doesn’t mean that what does come out will be troubled in taste,” Blyde maintains. “If anything, it will be the golden child, the survivor.” (more…)
A flock of photographers, myself among them, is gathered on the roof of the Queen of Hoxton pub in London’s hipster Valhalla of Shoreditch. As each of us elbows for a better angle—now on one knee, then doubling-back for a view from behind–you might well wonder what could inspire such a frenzy among snap-happy paps. Kim and Kanye? Brangelina? Britney Spears gone commando again?
As it transpires, the object—or rather, objects—of our intense interest are a bevy of wine bottles and a table topped with delectable looking platters.
No one cares that the feast has gone cold. We know chef Daniel Ashley will be providing plenty more plates later on, all washed down with a tipple (or ten) of Rosé d’Anjou Loire Valley wines.
For the moment, however, our focus (ahem) is on a food photography tutorial. Our host Douglas Blyde, himself a writer and sommelier, has invited Paul Winch-Furness, one of London’s most sought after food photographers, to share his tips with us this evening.
(more…)
