A photo: Kate Moss lounging on a London window sill, in an apparent trance, while Pete Doherty plays guitar for her. It happened in 2007, two years after the model and the rocker met on their first birthday and four years before the death of Amy Winehouse. Instagram did not yet exist, celebrities lacked control over the image they projected, hyaluronic acid had not been installed on all faces, and extreme thinness was still celebrated. Life took place far from Calabasas, in the Camden neighborhood, in front of the paparazzi cameras eager for blood. Mud on Hunter boots, romances between it girls and indie musicians, shared tattoos, lots of leather, and high doses of cocaine.
The initial records of Arctic Monkeys were playing on the radio, a determining group whose leader, Alex Turner, not only composed the soundtrack of that time, but also the most beautiful love letter in the world: ” My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since You kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. You kissed them. The idea that you can kiss them again sticks in my brain, which has not stopped thinking about you since long before any kiss”). The recipient of such words left the note in a bar and the note ended with 1,000 views on Tumblr It was Alexa Chung, another skinny and pretty girl, one of those who don’t seem to need makeup. One of those who crash parties at thirteen and end up as VIP backstage guests at twenty. How cool do you have to be for Mulberry to design a bag inspired by you? The couple’s looks, imitated over and over again, filled the pages of English tabloids. Showbiz aristocracy.
At that time, on some street in Covent Garden, Agyness Deyn and Albert Hammond Jr. were walking their dogs. She was at the top of the moment; he was the guitarist of the Strokes. By now you should have detected a pattern. Around each star, a constellation of satellites in the obligatory uniform: skinny pants, fedora hats, ankle boots, vests, ripped stockings under worn fur coats, velvet dresses obtained from thrift stores… Daisy Lowe and Pixie Geldof, both daughters of celebrities, occupied privileged places in the front row. They all knew each other. They all drank together and danced together, went in and out of the same places, and hung out with the same people; They never stopped and none of them were happy, but they had a great time.
I’m looking for the profile of Irina Lazareanu, Karl Lagerfeld‘s muse, and Sean Lennon’s ex-girlfriend. In her day she was the favorite of street style-obsessed bloggers, today her name is hardly heard. She is still a charismatic woman and, as I see it, she has written a book. During the promotion, in his interviews, he exposes the dark side, the portrait free of romanticism: addictions, eating disorders, self-destructive behaviors, and pain … Just one glance to perceive that diversity was conspicuous by its absence and it is not difficult to imagine the levels of misogyny and snobbery that must be experienced. However, Irina extols the value of this effervescent cultural convergence, only possible thanks to friendship and the tangible aspect of meeting face to face, without the mediation of screens. Gathered, magic happened.
