Happiness is to be found when in pursuit of it, in the soothed expectation, on the way, not only upon the arrival. Accepting detours, just going the way, which is anyhow not this obvious to anyone.
Thomas Bettinelli

Happiness is just a hairflip away.
Chris Crocker


"The way the system works now, you see the clothes, within an hour or so they're online, the world sees them. They don't get to a store for six months. The next week, young celebrity girls are wearing them on red carpets. They're in every magazine. The customer is bored with those clothes by the time they get to the store. They're overexposed, you're tired of them, they've lost their freshness".
Tom Ford


James Long

James Long's clothes are a decidedly acquired taste. There are men among his brethren who adore his Lurexes, his paint-splattered denims, his embroidered sweatshirts and rubberized leopards. Those flamboyant peacocks are not only his loyal customers but his inspiration for this collection. "Local heroes", he called them, mentioning people like the fine-artist Eddie Peake, whose work often involves lurid colors, vaguely scatological slogans, and plenty of nudity -he staged a naked five-a-side soccer match while studying at the Royal Academy. Apparently, when dressed, Mr Peake wears James Long. Preaching to the converted ? And then some. "When there's so much fashion about, I decided to look at people who actually wear my clothes", stated the designer, after a parade that, depending on your view, was jarring, or just jubilant; loud, or luxurious. There were lots of metallic threads, and lace, and fishnet, and great pileups of psychotropic color as trippy as the opiate poppies that flourished as prints and sweater intarsias. Belt buckles whirled into three-dimensional resin roses. Hair was greased back, eyes smeared with glitter, the calf-high riding boots by Christian Louboutin came in multicolored stripes flecked with sparkle. It was, it's fair to say, full-on. The themes of Eddie Peake's work -the absurd meeting the obscene- feel like they've met their sartorial match in James Long. In the prevalent mood of break-apart, single-piece dressing, you were inclined to view Mr Long's work not as "looks", but as individual, intricately wrought items that could be tugged away from the overpowering entirety to work in the wardrobe of a man not part of the designer's tight-knit niche of (generally East London) fans. But would you bother ? The issue with an aesthetic like James Long's is that it can be disconcerting and distancing to the casual onlooker. Would you pause to paw through a rail of pigment-plastered jean jackets in chartreuse and scarlet to find a velvet tuxedo jacket or, perhaps, a pair of slender, fairly innocuous tracksuit trousers ? Or just head somewhere a bit easier to digest ? James Long is one of menswear's busier designers. He's the new(ish) head of menswear at the Italian label Iceberg, whose chaotic and colorful trademarks fit him well. "I didn’t want to repeat myself", he said. "This was editing key things that I love". He evidently loves a lot of stuff. A little editing, ironically, would have gone a long way.

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