Be the Death of Her

Like a horseshoe crab coming to shore to find its mate, Anita felt the need to trawl the shore of Venice Beach every 6 months. She would leave a planned dinner, walk out of an art-house film, jump out of a moving vehicle, whenever she felt the calling to get her heels covered in the salty-fresh spray in the Pacific Ocean.

Today, Anita had attended the opening party for the new Vogue Los Angeles magazine. Mingling with all the usual suspects, Karl, Anna, Anna, Giorgio, Lady and the sorts, when the tingle in her heels began again. She brushed the feeling away as she smiled at Gandy's come-on: "your face looks absolutely radiant today...". She smiled and nodded staggering to the bar asking for a Martini with extra salt edging. Her Prada pumps were driving her crazy, she knew buying a size smaller would be the death of her.

The pulsing electro-hip-hop beats were driving her crazy, it all sounded like noise to her. She wondered the dance-floor in a daze, party blacked out, spinning around dizzily, the tabloids marked her as the soul of the party as her layered tissue-dress fluttered about the room.

Thirty minutes later, without any recollection of how she had gotten there, she was wondering wading in the sea shore with her wet Pradas, feeling the refreshingly cool water on her burning heels. She wondered about, dazed, until the burning sensation and primal instinct faded away. On her way back to find a taxi, she took a shortcut through the skate-park, that due to recession cutbacks hadn't had its lighting repaired since January 2010. 

Her bright red pump got caught in a grind-rail, she lurched, the sharp red stiletto heel snapped violently, she lost her balance, her perfectly manicured hands swung out, the tissue-dress fluttered beautifully (just as the shopping assistant had said), the dress fluttered beautifully to the concrete floor... billowing lightly around her recently... alive... body.

Images by Sonny Vandevelde - Autumn/Winter 2011

Left to right, top to bottom [Martin Grant, Foaming Waters of the Errol Dam by the US National Archives, Victor & Rolf, Victor & Rolf, Moonlight by the State Library of New South Wales)

Anna dello Russo goes Hannibal Lecter

Anna dello Russo has been sporting designer looks from the age of twelve (NY Mag article). So its no wonder she needs to go to ever greater lengths to top her previous looks. She is the star of the fashion circuit, and rightly so, she dares to wear the most stand out pieces time and time again.
Here I suggest she wears a standout piece, inspired by the Hannibal Lecter mouth-piece, that is bound to get heads turning and toddlers whimpering.
Coupled with a natural print jacket, that has taken hundreds of hours to create. Endangered African dung beetles are made to push along sponge balls of ink across the fabric, guaranteeing that not one piece ever looks the same. Insect labour is the new sweat-shop.
And the piece de resistance is a hand blown, white-stained-glass dress weighing just under 100kg. Accented with lead piping and ebony cutouts. It is important to note that the last model that wore this dress very nearly fainted due to its weight, this would most certainly have left a rather nasty mess on the catwalk, but fashion is a dangerous and beautiful profession and if your not willing to stand the glass shards you've gotta get out of the kitchen.