W.A.R.M. TOP 10

1/ The Talk of the Town: Edina & Patsy are back!

Picture via Dazed
2/ The Music Video: M.I.A - Borders

3/ The Magazine Cover: Vanessa Paradis by Inez and Vinoodh for Vogue Paris

4/ The Fashion Film: Once and Forever by Karl Lagerfeld

5/ The Model: Fernanda Ly by Daniel Jackson for Teen Vogue

6/ The TV Moment: Adele singing Hello at Jimmy Fallon

7/ The Collab: Star Wars X some of the best British fashion designers

Pic via Dazed

8/ The Movie Trailer: Captain America: Civil War

9/ The Editorial: Nicolas Ripoll by David Fischer for Playboy Germany

10/ The Song: Ty Dolla $ign feat. Kendrick Lamar - LA

Made by Charles Margueritte



The first silhouettes of the new MM6 collection for Pre-Fall 2016 repositions the brand and relaunches the new era beginning for Maison Margiela. There has always been a deep understanding of the street culture at Maison Margiela, it's almost in its DNA. And once again, these street/underground/youth culture vibes are well captured by the design team. Nowadays, this whole "street thing" is partially blurred and so many designers are influenced by this movement that it's sometimes hard to know if it's Maison Margiela or a brand like Vetements for instance who did it first. We have to admit that the very first silhouette of the collection (a long bomber jacket + thigh boots) could come from a Vetements collection but since Demna Gvasalia & his team are influenced by Margiela it's just a vicious circle!

The time period thing is over in Fashion since there are no more influences such as the 90s or 80s nowadays. They are part of the street fashion codes, it's a movement and much more than a mere influence. High Fashion is now doing streetwear and depicts it according to its own codes. Mixing the styles, the time periods, the movements is something so common now in Fashion and it's obvious in these Pre-Fall silhouettes.

The MM6 Spring Summer 2016 "reboot runway show" in London back in September was based on nightclubbing and it's underground culture. Here, it's a wider perspective proposed by the Margiela Design team led by John Galliano from an experimental clothing to versatile pieces, a fusion of styles & influences with the famous (and quite subversive for its time) painting Gabrielle d'Estrées et une de ses sœurs [ where one of the women is pinching the other's tit and making a 6 with her fingers] as a starting point. At first sight, this inspiration may seem quite abstract, except for the 6 and for some "Renaissance-inspired" pieces. However, this is a fundamental choice to represent two women in these pictures and to play with this idea of sisterhood & femininity, of subversion vs innocence. Something departing from the SS16 collection that had a more genderless vibe. According to us, this is the vision of a teenage girl who is not a girl but not yet a woman as Britney would have said.

But, instead of trying to find a meaning behind this inspiration and making uncertain assumptions about what lies beneath this Pre-Fall, let's focus on the clothes. It's a wardrobe of strong pieces, sometimes quite experimental that can be used in different ways like the styling is suggesting and after all, don't forget the Margiela touch, nothing must be for granted. When we discovered the collection on Vogue.com, we had to enlarge the pictures to get the full MM6 experience and to see the details & the layering. Even with this process, sometimes we were "is it a jacket? a shirt?". That's what we love so much about Maison Margiela & its little sister MM6, this inventiveness, this creativity knowing no limits, no borders. We are blurred sometimes and we love it. Take the long bomber that could be a jacket or a dress worn with thigh boots. For Maison Margiela, a garment should always be more than a garment. It has a function. The second silhouette is our favourite. An oversized plaid shirt worn over a leather coat, a sheer top, leather culottes and with gorgeous neo buckled Chelsea boots. This styling is everything. There is an ambivalent vibe in this whole collection (composed of only 13 looks!), a mix of low & profane with couture techniques (the pleats on the leather skirt & top for instance). It's also quite obvious in the fabrics used: leather, sheer materials and acid black denim in the form of long/short shearling jackets (that could be bought in thrift shops) or the big acid like printed neo poncho/sweater. A very Margielesque kind of trompe l'oeil. This raw & very young vibe is counterbalanced by some more feminine & soft looks such as the Victoriana dress worn with a crop COME tee-shirt and a chain belt with a 6 lock. Soft & hard in the same silhouette, the savoir-faire & aesthetics of MM6 summed up in only one look!

Ecole de Fontainebleau - Portrait présumé de Gabrielle d'Estrées et de sa soeur la Duchesse de Villars

Words by Yann Sackville West & Charles Margueritte

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I want JDUB (J.W. Anderson's nickname) under my Xmas Tree! Not him in person of course but his clothes as Xmas gifts. Even if I wouldn't mind having him under my Xmas tree too (just kidding)! That's the first things coming to my mind after the awards galore he received on Monday evening at the British Fashion Awards, winning for both Menswear & Womenswear Designer of the Year. If he carries on pushing fashion to its limits season after season he is probably going to win these awards every year! He has achieved so many things, breaking the boundaries between men's and women's wardrobe. That's why he had to win both awards. That makes sense in a way; even if he doesn't make the difference between wearing men and women, disrupting with this definition of beauty. He doesn't even believe in the concept of gender blurring: "it's not gender for me, it's just clothes", he said to Dazed Digital. Men can be comfy in his women's clothes and women can easily borrow a piece from the men's. An idea from the women's collection can be the starting point of the men's collection because there's simply no limit to creation. The Resort and the Menswear collections are always connected. For instance, new arrival pieces are shown in the same section on his online shop regardless of the gender! That's totally brilliant! One just has to pick the piece that he or she loves and that's all! Shopping on his online shop is just easy as A.B.C! Next season's orbital pieces are my favorite, from the boat- neck tee to the space dog top. I can't wait for the denim pieces that are coming soon. My attraction/obsession for JDUB's creations goes beyond his eponymous brand, it also extends to what he is designing for Loewe. The new season arrivals section on the Loewe's online shop is my favorite.  The new season goods are landing at the right moment (perfectly in time for Xmas)! Who knows, I might have a Christmas miracle this year!? Ok I'm just dreaming...

All these pictures come from the Facebook and from the online shop of J.W. Anderson and some also come from Dazed Digital and were photographed by Chloé Le Drézen

Words by Yann Sackville West



W.A.R.M. TOP 10

1/ The Editorial: Cate Blanchett by Tim Walker for W Magazine

2/ The Music Video: David Bowie - Blackstar

3/ The Lookbook: The World Is Your Oyster SS16 [via Fucking Young!]

4/ The Movie Trailer: Zoolander 2 with Ben Stiller & Owen Wilson

5/ The Magazine Covers: Julia Nobis & Rianne Van Rompaey by Collier Schorr for Dazed

6/ The TV Moment: Adele impersonating herself for a hilarious prank

7/ The One To Buy: Benetton Sweater from their Archive Collection "A Collection Of Us"

8/ The TV Show: 11.22.63 with James Franco

9/ The Collab: Asics Tiger X A Bathing Ape

10/ The Tribute: John Oliver celebrates Paris & the French Culture

Made by Charles Margueritte



Une semaine aujourd'hui. Une semaine. Une semaine qui est passée aussi vite qu'elle m'a semblé durer une éternité. Une semaine de tristesse, de révoltes intérieures, d'envie de hurler. Une semaine à chercher des réponses à des questions qu'on ne s'était jamais posé auparavant. Une semaine à tenter de faire comme si de rien n'était alors que nous ne sommes pas dupes, rien ne sera plus comme avant. J'entends partout "On n'a pas peur". Pourtant, on a peur, on est mort de trouille même mais on ne veut pas que cette peur l'emporte. On vaut bien plus que ça. Nos vies vaudront toujours un million de fois plus que leurs idéologies nauséabondes.

One week today. One week. One week that has gone as fast as it seems to have lasted an eternity. One week of sadness, of inner revolts, of need to scream. One week looking for answers to questions we never asked before. One week trying to act as if nothing happened but we are no fools, nothing will be the same ever again. Everywhere I can hear people telling "We are not afraid". Yet, we are, we are frightened but we don't want this fear to win. We are much more valuable than it and our lives will always be much more valuable than their putrid ideologies.

Alors la vie continue comme on dit. On allume des bougies. On se retrouve en terrasse pour boire des verres, on retournera voir des concerts, on ira voir des matchs de foot, on se rassemblera, on rira, on parlera de tout et surtout de rien. On s'embrassera, on se prendra dans les bras. On ricanera bêtement en pensant à des conneries. On essaiera d'avancer et de ne plus y penser. Mais on avancera et on y pensera encore parce que rien de tout ça ne devrait arriver. En France ou ailleurs. Rien de tout ça n'est et ne sera jamais normal.

So, as they say, life goes on. We are lighting candles. We are meeting friends to have drinks outdoors and will go to gigs again, will go to football games again. We will gather, laugh, chat about everything and nothing in particular. We will kiss again, take people in our arms again. We will jeer again when thinking about stupid things. We will try to keep going, we will try to forget. We will keep going but we will never be able to forget because it shouldn't happen. In France or everywhere else in this world. It is not and will never be a normal thing.

Depuis une semaine j'essaye de me convaincre que ça va aller et que ces larmes dans mes yeux qui coulent sans prévenir, que cette boule dans ma gorge qui m'empêche de parler vont passer et partir comme elles sont arrivées. Ça fait une semaine que je me dis que je dois me changer les idées et écrire sur la mode, cette chose si française qui m'anime et qui fait battre mon cœur un peu plus fort. Une semaine que je n'y arrive pas. Peut-être parce que ça me semble bien futile ou peut-être simplement parce que ma tête est trop remplie de toutes ces images que l'on a tous vues même si nous ne le voulions pas, de tous ces visages, de toutes ces personnes que je connaissais pas mais qui me semblent avoir toujours été des amis, de tous ces messages sur Facebook et ailleurs de personnes qui ont perdu un proche ou plusieurs, de ces enfants qu'on interviewe et qui confirme l'adage que "la vérité sort de la bouche des enfants". Aujourd'hui j'ai l'impression que j'ai encore plein de larmes à venir alors j'écris, je vous écris plus pour exorciser que pour véritablement vous racontez quelque chose je vous écris pour vous racontez à quel point j'aime Paris et à quel point Paris signifie beaucoup de choses pour moi. 

I have kept on telling myself that it will be fine for a week now and that these tears in my eyes and this knot in my throat will go away. I have spent this week thinking about how to take my mind off things. All this week, I have been unable to write about Fashion, about this very French thing that makes my heart beat a little faster. This may seem too futile for the moment. I don't know. Maybe my head is just too filled with all these images we have all seen even if we didn't want to, with all these faces, with all these persons I did not know but who could have been friends, with all these messages posted on Facebook or anywhere else from people who lost someone. Today, I feel like I still have loads of tears to come so I am writing. Writing here is an exorcism, a way to tell you how much Paris means the world to me.

Quand j'étais petit, Paris c'était avant tout le Musée du Louvre. Vous vous dites sans doute que je devais être un petit garçon plutôt ennuyeux, le genre de binoclard (même si je n'avais pas de lunettes) qui a toujours la bonne réponse. Ce n'était pas trop moi pourtant. J'étais timide, solitaire et l'art c'était tout pour moi. Je pouvais passer des journées à regarder des livres de peinture. Le Louvre c'était l'El Dorado pour moi. L'endroit sur Terre où tous les trésors de la peinture sont rassemblés. Alors dès que je le pouvais, j'y allais accompagné d'une étudiante de l'Ecole du Louvre qui connaissait tous les secrets, toutes les anecdotes, j'étais fasciné. Quand j'étais petit, Paris c'était pour moi la plus belle ville du monde, l'endroit rêvé pour vivre et visiter des musées. En grandissant, Paris est devenue la ville parfaite pour faire la fête, pour boire des verres, des verres et encore des verres, pour danser de manière absurde sur du Sexy Sushi, pour faire des nuits blanches ou dormir à quinze dans une petite pièce. A Paris j'étais libre d'être moi-même, je n'avais pas besoin de jouer un rôle, je pouvais être Charles, le garçon qui aime les garçons et qui, contrairement aux apparences, sait s'amuser. Le Musée du Louvre me semblait bien loin. A cette époque, c'était surtout Bastille que je connaissais. Bastille et ses endroits où l'on savait prendre du bon temps. Bastille et ses endroits où Carpe Diem est un art de vivre. Et puis l'amour a fait irruption dans ma vie. Mes premiers amours c'est à Paris que je les ai connus, c'est à Paris que j'ai angoissé à l'idée d'aller à leur rencontre, que j'ai tenté de cacher mon émotion lorsque nos regards se sont croisés, que nos mains se sont frôlées, c'est à Paris que j'ai pleuré sur un quai de gare, à l'entrée d'un métro au moment des adieux. Le Musée du Louvre et Bastille je ne savais même plus ce que c'était. C'était les parisiens qui occupaient mon esprit. C'était le 13ème arrondissement. Le cinéma MK2 de la bibliothèque François Mitterrand C'était le jardin des Tuileries, Ce café où je l'ai pris en photo. Et puis les parisiens s'en sont allés. Ma vie a continué. J'ai espéré de tout mon coeur être pris à la Sorbonne pour ce Master qui aurait illuminé ma vie trop sombre à l'époque. Puis j'ai rencontré Yann, l'Amour de ma vie, mon meilleur Ami. Yann pour qui Paris signifie aussi des tonnes de souvenirs, de fêtes, de concerts, de rires, de ballades à n'en plus finir, de sessions shopping effrénées. Nos vacances à Paris sous la pluie en plein juillet. Notre promenade dans Belleville avec Noëlla, nos verres en terrasse avec Asmae, nos séjours chez la soeur de Yann en plein Marais, les expos que l'on a vues. Retourner avec Yann au Louvre après toutes ces années avait ce petit goût de première fois. Aller voir La Roux l'année dernière au Bataclan avec notre amie Véronique et danser et chanter à ne plus pouvoir s'arrêter. Se promener le long du Canal Saint Martin. S'asseoir sur le parvis de Beaubourg. Aller manger un croque monsieur rue Montmartre. Regarder les vitrines de Noël du Printemps. Repenser aux films Les Chansons d'Amour, à Paris Je T'Aime. Et puis Sourire. Sourire encore. Etre heureux. Etre bien.

When I was a little boy, Paris was all about Le Louvre for me. You may think I was some kind of Mr Know-It-All boring boy with glasses. First, I did not wear glasses and I was pretty shy and lonely to tell you the truth. Art meant everything to me. I could spend hours reading art books. As far as I was concerned, Le Louvre was the El Dorado. The place on Earth where all the treasures of painting were. So when I could, I went there for a visit with an Ecole Du Louvre student who knew all the secrets and anecdotes. I was literally fascinated. When I was a little boy, Paris was undoubtedly the most beautiful city in the world, the perfect place to live and visit museums. When I grew up, Paris became the ideal place to party and have drinks, drinks and drinks, to dance in an absurd way to Sexy Sushi, to have sleepless nights. In Paris, I was free to be whoever I wanted to be. But most of all, I could be Charles, the boy who loves boys and who, contrary to the preconceived idea, knew how to have fun. At that time, le Musée du Louvre seemed so far away. At that time, I was more into La Bastille. La Bastille and its places where Carpe Diem is not an empty proverb but more a way of life. And then, love burst into my life. My first love interests were both from Paris. This was here that I first felt this fear of meeting them, that I hid my emotion when our eyes met, when our hands touched. This was in Paris that I first cried for a boy, on the platform of a station, in the subway when saying "Bye". At that time, I did not remember where Le Musée du Louvre or Bastille were. The Parisian boys kept my whole mind occupied. At that time, it was the 13th district. The MK2 Movie Theater near the François Mitterrand library. It was le Jardin des Tuileries or this café where I took a picture of him. And then, one day, the Parisian boys went away and my life went on. I desperately needed to enter the Sorbonne to forget about these darker days but life had some surprises for me. I met Yann, the Man of my Life, my Best Friend. Yann who also has a lot of stories related to Paris. Parties, concerts, laughter, endless strolls in the city and mad shopping sessions. Our wet holidays in July. Our walk in Belleville with Noëlla, our drinks outdoors with Asmae, our stays at Yann's sister's flat in Le Marais, all the exhibitions we visited. Going back to Le Louvre with Yann after all these years had, in a way, a first time taste. Going to see La Roux's gig at Le Bataclan with our friend Véronique, where we couldn't stop singing and dancing. Walking along le Canal Saint Martin. Sitting in front of le Centre Pompidou. Eating a croque monsieur in the rue Montmartre. Watching the Printemps Christmas windows. Thinking about such movies as Les Chansons d'Amour or Paris Je T'Aime. And smiling. Smiling again. Feeling happy. Felling good.

Paris c'est une somme de souvenirs. Certains petits voire insignifiants. D'autres majeurs, essentiels. Et ça, toute la bêtise du monde, toute sa barbarie, toute sa violence ne pourront jamais me retirer, nous retirer à tous ces images, ces impressions, ces instants de grâce, ces minutes où le temps suspend son vol pour ne laisser que la douceur de vivre, le bonheur d'être là et nulle part ailleurs. Paris je t'aime!

Paris means a ton of memories to me. Some are small, even insignificant. Others are major, essential. And all the violence, the savagery, the idiocy of the world could not take these images, these impressions, these moments of grace, these minutes when time suspends its flight from me. It will always remain this sweet life, this happiness to be here and nowhere else in the world. Paris je t'aime!

Quelques doux souvenirs de Paris...// Some sweet memories of Paris...




Words by Charles Margueritte