J’Adore No More: Dior Fires Galliano For Anti-Semitic, Racist Remarks

And in other news about People Who Are Not Charlie Sheen Saying Crazy Things That Piss Off Their Employers, Dior has fired John Galliano as its head designer after a video surfaced Monday of Galliano telling a group of French and Italian women–whom he presumed were Jewish–that he loved Hitler and that their ancestors would have been “fucking gassed.”

Galliano’s firing came on the heels of his suspension from the fashion house last week over a similar but separate incident in the same Paris bar where the video was taken, in which he allegedly insulted French couple Geraldine Bloch and Philippe Virgiti, telling Bloch she had a “dirty Jewish face” and Virgiti, who’s of Asian descent, that he was a “fucking Asian bastard” before threatening to kill him. Bloch and Virgiti eventually called police to the bar, where Galliano, who was inebriated, was arrested.

(Neither Bloch nor the women Galliano addresses in the video are, in fact, Jewish.)

Inglourious Asian Basterds: Dior's heavily-criticized Shanghai Dreams ad campaign from 2010

What’s interesting about all this is how the fashion world circled the wagons around Continue reading J’Adore No More: Dior Fires Galliano For Anti-Semitic, Racist Remarks

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Revisiting Daul Kim’s “I Like to Fork Myself”


Celebrity death vultures have been busy the last week picking over the bones of 20 year-old, South Korean model Daul Kim, who was found hanged in her Paris apartment in an apparent suicide November 19, which may explain why her blog, I Like to Fork Myself–scoured by reporters as though it were a suicide note (before the alleged existence of an actual suicide note was revealed)–has since been switched to invite-only and is no longer available for public rubbernecking viewing.

I, too, have been guilty of participating in this scavenger hunt, the search for the why behind her death. A year-and-a-half ago, I wrote about Daul Kim and the things I liked about her: her goofy-cool factor, her bangs, and her blog, which I described as a “zany, irreverent diary of her fashism experiences.” When I read of her death, my first impulse was to return to the site and figure out what I had missed. I mean, zany and irreverent? Were these words one could really use to describe someone who had taken her own life? What dark thoughts and creeping shadows had I failed to see on the edges?


Continue reading Revisiting Daul Kim’s “I Like to Fork Myself”

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The oppressive, unassailable ideas handed down by the Fashion world.

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The Ethnically Unambiguous Are So Last Season

For those of you unfamiliar with the makeover episode of America’s Next Top Model, know that it typically brings out tears, and I’m talking Niagara-like lacrimation. When Cycle 11′s aired last week, the person who did the most crying over her new look was Elina Ivanova, a 19 year-old originally from Ukraine, to whom the show inexplicably gave the hair of the creepy, ‘roided-out comic Carrot Top. Elina hated her fiery weave–which was heralded as a first in “Top Model History,” undoubtedly for its aggressive fugginess–but she managed to move past that and win the swimsuit photo shoot in the end anyway.

As a rule, the previous week’s winning shot goes up in the contestants’ house the following week to motivate the other girls. Elina’s photo was shown several times over the course of last night’s episode, with some flattering quotes from the judges captioning it, one of which was “ethnically ambiguous.” Tyra had told the aspiring model the week before that that was how the new hair made Elina look, and she meant it as a compliment.

The phrase “ethnically ambiguous,” however, strikes me as praise of the backhanded variety. Often, it’s really just a gentrified way of saying “not too ethnic.” Or “not too dark.” Or “not too slanty-eyed.” Or “not too flat-nosed.” In August, before New York Fashism Week, a top casting director for the shows told Models.com that one thing the fashion world is embracing right now is precisely that imprecise look:

Another thing this season is trying to discern from all the girls out there the ones that are ethnically ambiguous. Girls and boys that have faces that you can’t just put in a certain place or race or geography. I think it’s very helpful to see those types of faces in our conflicted world because you can see that we’re still evolving as humans and they are the results of people willing to go beyond the socially constructed notions around race…

And, you know, he may be onto something, in terms of “socially constructed notions around race,” but what about our socially constructed notions around beauty? Is this latest notion of beauty a reflection of globalization and the world getting smaller or is it spin on an old idea, that “ethnic” faces are beautiful so long as they still conform somewhat to Western standards of beauty (i.e. so long as they still look kinda white). If faces that can’t be put in a certain place, race, or geography are desirable right now, what about faces like mine that most certainly can? Are they yesterday’s news? Are they a bit played? Should I stow my face for a few seasons like all those smock dresses I wore in 2006 until ethnic specificity makes a comeback? This comment about ethnic ambiguity was cited as the second key fall trend; the first was “the tomboy look.” Now it’s easy to go out and get a bowl cut and boyfriend jeans and copy Katie Holmes, but it’s not quite so simple to change your ethnic makeup. And since ethnic ambiguity is considered a “trend,” that means it’s only a matter of time before people tire of it and it will be replaced by something else. What will the “ethnically ambiguous” do then? Make themselves “more ethnic”? Play up the racial drag–kink that hair, chink that make-up? Go into hiding?

I think I have some space for the ethnically ambiguous in the back of my closet when that time comes, somewhere alongside all of my pointy-toed flats, boot-cut jeans, knee-length A-line skirts, those smock dresses that made me look preggo, and that pair of purple McQueen corset boots that would look killer on a pirate moonlighting as a hooker. In the meantime, it’s here in the dark, cluttered recesses of my closet where you’ll find me and my ethnically unambiguous face, as we wait for everything old to become new again.


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Naomi Campbell Throws a Blasian Party, and We’re Not Invited

On Wednesday, during London Fashism Week, Naomi Campbell put on a Fashion for Relief charity runway show featuring her hot Blasian model friends, Chanel Iman (who is a quarter-Korean) and Tyson Beckford (who is a quarter-Chinese):

And we were curiously left off the guest list. Hmm. Maybe we should be nicer to our favorite phone-thrower-nista?

Yeah, riiiiiiiiiiight.


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Name: Daul Kim

Occupation: Model

Why She’s a Babe: She can wear a bag on her head and still look cool. We also love her bangs. And because Kim writes a blog called I Like to Fork Myself, a zany, irreverent diary of her fashism experiences, where she, too, documented her love of the Japanese “We Are the World.”

Check out Daul Kim working the runway here.


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It’s All About the Paper

It’s Paris Fashism Week, and Japanese label Issey Miyake and designer Dai Fujiwara created quite a stirr thurr yesterday with a “green” collection that featured biodegradable clothes made of paper. I don’t get how disposable clothes are really all that eco, but the paper creations were stunning and all that.

Weird Head Veil not included.


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Fashismista Revealed!

Yesterday, we polled you guys on who the mystery fashismista was that showed up at Chloe “Actor-Fashism Icon-Second Wife-Designer” Sevigny’s launch party for her Opening Ceremony collection.

Most of you thought that the lady in that funkay fedora, batwing bib, skinny jeans, and bondage mules was Risa Ring:

Was it the word “sublebrity” that gave it away? Or was it the overall hideosity of the outfit?

I must now confess that the poll was rigged. The lady in the photo was none of the gals listed. The lady is, in fact, not a lady at all:

It’s Zaldy “Rhymes With Coco” Goco, the former designer of Gwen Stefani’s L.A.M.E. label!



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Rock the Vote…Again

It’s the Wednesday after Super Tuesdaysian, and I’m feeling a comedown after all that hooha, aren’t you? What better way is there to ease the bumpy ride than to vote again? Can I get an amen?!?

New York Fashism Week kicked off last weekend, and the D-listers and social climbers have been out in force. One such sublebrity showed up at the Chloe Sevigny for Opening Ceremony launch party Monday. Can you guess who it was?

(The last time we voted ’round here, it was to determine whether or not Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles star Summer Glau is a rice girl. Click here to view the results. It was as close as Missouri.)


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Lucy, Lius the Opera Gloves

Dearest Lucy Liu,

I’m pretty sure that Patricia Field is just fucking with you. I know you are the focal point of the new, very fash-ant-garde TV show Cashmere Mafia now, which means that you have to assume fashism icon status and gallivant around town wearing wild (ugly) shit and telling reporters in knowledgeable tones: “Oh god, I love young and independent designers. Zac Poseur really just knows a woman’s body.”

But here’s the lowdown, and this is hard for me because I truly think you’re lovely and talented (you are so pretty, so pretty. My dog and her dad rode in an elevator with you two months ago and raved about your skin. This is true!): I really, truly-ooly don’t believe Mafia is going to take off. This show will be a bigger bomb than your lesbian vampire movie. I do think Field has lost her touch–and if she does in fact still have a touch, she’s fingering New Line’s Sex and the City movie, not your little “tv show.”

I’m sorry. Saying such things is hard for me. But to be frank, I really just don’t want you toting ugly gold bags while wearing black opera gloves anymore. You don’t deserve it and we will both regret it. I already do.

hugs and kisses,


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Name: Derek Lam

Occupation: Fashion designer (see dereklam.com)

Why He’s a Babe: Cuz he’s bald and beautiful. Cuz he can rock chunky black glasses or a tux and looks like an interesting dinner guest. Cuz he designs floaty party dresses that we can’t afford but love to drool over and is fast-becoming the fashism industry’s Great Yellow Hope.


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The Unveiling: A Story In Photos

“Sigh. Here I am, arriving at that bitch Jaime Pressly’s new fashion line, J’aime.
I’m feeling so bummed out, I think because my teats are covered. What a great
idea, a fashion line. I should have my own fashion line! I could call it B’ai!
I could make sparkly bandeau tops with matching underwear–er-pants!
God, I’m just so SAD. Why isn’t anyone taking photos of me?”

“Oh hello again. I thought perhaps if I posed net to this very nice new Audi automobile that someone might snap a picture or two. This reminds me of those ‘Tuner Zine’ girls. I wonder if I could get into that magazine. I once asked this man I met at a party if he had any connections, and he said that it depended on how much dick I liked. I got so confused.
What does it mean, dick? Sigh. I still feel sad. Now, I pout.”

“I tried to so hard to make an impact with my outfit today. The designer, Cornolio,
told me that it was ‘like
Gwen Stefani’s baby stroller
on acid.’ I don’t really know what that means but something about the pleats makes me feel like I am not very sexy.”

“Ahhh! Liberation! Thank god I forgot to wear a shirt.
Now all I have to do is slide this baby open and then EVERYONE will want to talk about my book, NIPPLES! I feel joy once again! I am sexy! I am SEXY!!!”

Insanity barometer… off the charts and out to space!!!

Source Source Source

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