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The Mystery of Princess Louise: Queen Victoria's Rebellious Daughter by Lucinda Hawksley
“The secrets of Queen Victoria ’s sixth child, Princess Louise, may be destined to remain hidden forever. What was so dangerous about this artistic, tempestuous royal that her life has been documented more by rumour and gossip than hard facts? I first came across Princess Louise’s name when researching my biographies of Lizzie Siddal and Kate Perugini, I wondered who this art-loving princess really was. When I started to investigate, often thwarted by inexplicable secrecy, I discovered a fascinating woman, modern before her time, whose story has been shielded for years from public view.
Louise was a sculptor and painter, friend to the Pre-Raphaelites and a keen member of the Aesthetic movement. The most feisty of the Victorian princesses, she kicked against her mother’s controlling nature and remained fiercely loyal to her brothers – especially the sickly Leopold and the much-maligned Bertie. She sought out other unconventional women, including Josephine Butler, Elizabeth Garrett Anderson and George Eliot, and campaigned for education and health reform and for the rights of women. She battled with her indomitable mother for permission to practice the ‘masculine’ art of sculpture and go to art college – and in doing so became the first British princess to attend a public school.
The rumours of Louise’s colourful love life persist even today, with hints of love affairs dating as far back as her teenage years, and notable scandals included an illegitimate baby with her brother’s tutor and rumoured romantic entanglements with her married sculpting tutor Joseph Edgar Boehm and her sister Princess Beatrice’s handsome husband, Liko. True to rebellious form, she refused all royal suitors and became the first member of the royal family to marry a commoner since the sixteenth century. “Spirited and lively, The Mystery of Princess Louise is richly packed with arguments, intrigues, scandals and secrets, and is a vivid portrait of a princess desperate to escape her inheritance.”
The Mystery of Princess Louise: Queen Victoria 's Rebellious Daughter by Lucinda Hawksley– review
This life of a spirited princess who thrived despite her upbringing is both revealing and enthralling
Rachel Cooke
Sunday 29 December 2013 / http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/dec/29/mystery-of-princess-louise-review
Princess Louise was the sixth child of Queen Victoria, a woman who famously loathed babies, and from her very first wail, Her Majesty was apt to see her as odd and difficult. When she was feeling generous, she would attribute her daughter's determined, sparky personality to the fact that she had come into the world in 1848, the year of revolution: "She was born in the most eventful times & ought to be something peculiar in consequence." When she was not feeling generous, which was most of the time, she would insist that "Loosy" was backward: "God bless the dear child – who is so affectionate and has so many difficulties to contend with," she wrote to Louise's older sister Vicky in 1864. "I hope and trust she will get over them… and still become a most useful member of the human family."
Even by the mendacious, self-deceiving standards of Victoria , this was some lie. Not only was Louise more intelligent than the majority of her eight siblings, she was also, in spite of her loopy upbringing, emotionally adept, and though this would later cause her some pain when it came to matters of the heart, it made her popular with the public, even as the rumours swirled.
It's these whispers that make Lucinda Hawksley's new biography such an intriguing prospect. In old age, Louise was just another of the batty Victorian relatives (copyright: the Duke of Windsor) who rattled around the great royal retirement home that was Kensington Palace . But as a young woman, her life was complicated and modern. Did the teenage Louise have a baby by Walter Stirling, the devoted tutor of her haemophiliac brother, Leopold? Did she enjoy a long love affair with Sir Joseph Boehm, the Queen's sculptor in ordinary, a romance that only ended when he died as they made love in his London studio shortly before Christmas 1890? And was her husband, the Marquess of Lorne (later 9th Duke of Argyll), whom she married at the insistence of her mother in 1871, a homosexual whose night prowls she tried to prevent by bricking up the windows of her apartment?
Hawksley has answers to all these questions. In essence: yes, yes and yes. But her assertions are based on instinct, contemporary gossip and the matching up of dates, times and places rather than revelatory new documents. The princess's files at the royal archives remain closed, while at Inveraray Castle , the seat of the Argylls, the family papers are strictly off-limits. Hawksley doesn't waste precious time on the various ways she was thwarted, but the reader will consider this bizarre. Louise died in 1939; she had no legitimate children; the boy she purportedly gave up for adoption died in 1907. Why shouldn't the truth come out? It's not as if she murdered anyone.
What she did murder was the idea of what a princess should be. Louise was a practical girl; in the Swiss Cottage built for the children at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight , she learned to cook, a skill she practised, to the amazement of her staff, for the rest of her life. She wove a carpet for her beloved brother, Bertie (later Edward VII). But art was her first love and once she'd persuaded her mother that she might have her own studio – no mean feat, given that the widowed Victoria wanted her daughters to breathe the same miserable air as her 24 hours a day – there was no holding her back. She studied hard, and became a sculptor; wanting to be taken seriously, she insisted on being paid for her work. Was she any good? Opinions vary, but the magnificently chilly statue of Victoria she made to mark the golden jubilee, and which still stands outside Kensington Palace , pulls off the trick of flattering its subject even as it suggests the iceberg that stood in for the Queen's heart.
Art and life, for Louise, were intimately connected. Her friends and associates included Rossetti, Millais, Whistler and, more controversially, George Eliot (who was living in sin). Her clothes were fashionable, her jewellery sometimes homemade. A supporter of suffrage for women, she was in touch with both Josephine Butler and Elizabeth Garrett. No wonder, then, that she enjoyed her share of love affairs. No wonder, too, that she refused to be married off by her increasingly panicky mother to a European royal; exile was not for her. Lorne, offered as an alternative, was not precisely a catch. He washed rarely, his clothes were eccentric, he was convinced he had second sight, and he refused to let his wife use his billiard table. But she accepted him as the least bad option and went with him to Canada when he was appointed its governor – even if she didn't stay long. The marriage was not happy. But it was convenient. They could live apart, together.
Hawksley puts her facts in the service of her hunches with aplomb. I wasn't entirely convinced by her thesis about Louise's illegitimate son. It's hard to believe that the tyrannical, outwardly prudish Victoria knew of her daughter's pregnancy; if she had, would she really have been so happy to holiday with her so soon after the child was supposedly born? But I bought everything else, and the book is satisfyingly replete with eye-popping stories of life at the various palaces, even if they're not all new. Victoria , as usual, comes out of it exceedingly badly, something that makes Louise's evident sanity all the more impressive.
It's odd that while Hawksley tells us that Louise worried about her niece Alexandra and her obsession with a monk called Rasputin, she fails to mention the murder of the Romanovs. But I noticed the omission only when I'd put the book down. I was, I'm afraid, far too caught up with this improbable princess, a beautiful, charming woman who loved to bicycle and to smoke, who was always happy to share her recipe for oyster paté and who holidayed, at the end of her life, in Sidmouth, where she enjoyed the table d'hote at the exclusive Fortfield hotel.
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JERMYN STREET
JermynStreeté uma das ruas mais agradáveis de Londres . Paralela e adjacente a Picadilly, pela qual é ligada através das PicadillyArcades, inesquecível"passage-galerie", só comparável às BurlingtonArcades também muito próximas.
Esta é a rua para as camisarias, e a sua fama para a "Bespokeshirts" também só é comparável àquilo que SavileRowé para a "BespokeTayloring".
No entanto devido à variedade e à acessibilidade dos seus estabelecimentos e montras, esta é uma rua menos obcecada temáticamente e muito menos monótona que SavileRow.
Visitem vários estabelecimentos através dos exemplos que vos ofereço neste "post"
PICADILLY ARCADES
PICADILLYARCADE O verdadeiro Centro Comercial.
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FORTNUM & MASON
FORTNUM& MASON, Top General "Gourmet"Store for British FoodMain Entrance inPicadilly. Visitar aqui : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4R028S2ydk
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HILDITCH& KEY
HILDITCH& KEY , 37 JermynStreetTraditional Superior Craftmanship for alltheGentleman's apparel
HILDITCH& KEY
T. M. Lewin
T. M. Lewin (Thomas Mayes Lewin) is a gentleman's shirt retailer and was formerly aUK manufacturer. It was founded in 1898 when Thomas Mayes Lewin opened his first shop in Jermyn Street , St James's, London .
TRICKER'S, 67 JermynStreetBespokeHandMadeandBenchMadeEnglishFootwear
Esta é a rua para as camisarias, e a sua fama para a "Bespokeshirts" também só é comparável àquilo que SavileRowé para a "BespokeTayloring".
No entanto devido à variedade e à acessibilidade dos seus estabelecimentos e montras, esta é uma rua menos obcecada temáticamente e muito menos monótona que SavileRow.
Visitem vários estabelecimentos através dos exemplos que vos ofereço neste "post"






FORTNUM & MASON


HILDITCH& KEY


Hackett
With a thriving small business in Portobello, Jeremy Hackett and Ashley Lloyd-Jennings make a big step up and open their first shop under the name “Hackett” at the wrong end (as their bank manager observed) of the New Kings Road in Parson’s Green, London. Still selling fine quality second-hand traditional British clothing and accessories, discovered in house clearances and numerous antique markets, Hackett soon gains cult status aided by interest in “Young Fogeydom” and the “Sloane Ranger handbook”.
T. M. Lewin
T. M. Lewin (Thomas Mayes Lewin) is a gentleman's shirt retailer and was formerly a
T. M. Lewin & Sons traded through both World Wars and it was during this period that the company became a provider of Club Colours, becoming a supplier to the RAF, the British Army, the School tie and the sporting community. In 1979 T. M. Lewin & Sons was acquired by the McKenna family and in 1980 Geoff Quinn, the current managing director, joined the company from Turnbull & Asser.

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TRICKER'S Interior
TRICKER'S shoesamples
CROCKETT & JONES
CROCKETT& JONES,69 JermynStreet, famousshoemaker
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CROCKETT& JONESshopfront
FOSTER & SONS
FOSTER& SONS, 83 JermynStreet, Bespokeshoes, cases andluggagesince 1840
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FOSTER& SONS INTERIOR
FLORIS, 89 JermynStreet, Perfumes, bath, essences,toiletwatersandsoapsince 1730
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Floris shopfrontinthe XIX century
FLORIS shopfront
Taylor of Old Bond Street
Jeremiah Taylor first founded Taylor of Old Bond Street on September the 1st, 1854. Jeremiah opened his salon inLondon 's fashionable Bond Street and gained a reputation in British Society for his botanical extracts. The Taylor tradition continued through the next generation with Sidney who opened our now famous flagship store in Jermyn Street , London .
TURNBULL & ASSER
TURNBULL& ASSER 71-72 Jermynstreet Visitar emhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZZ9H8hTF1E
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TURNBULL& ASSER interior
TURNBULL & ASSER
HARVIE & HUDSON
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HARVIE & HUDSON
HARVIE AND HUDSON,77 Jermyn street British Shirtmakers and ties specialists
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HARVIE & HUDSON
CAVENDISH HOTEL 81 Jermyn Street http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWYzHoPkfrY
22 JERMYN STREET HOTEL
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22 Jermyn Street Hotel de Charme
22 Jermyn Street HOTEL DE CHARME under the same family ownership since 1915 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93vSaqINvJw
BATES
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BATES 21a Jermyn Street , Makers of stylish Hats
GEO F TRUMPER
GEO F TRUMPER 20 Jermyn Street Barber to Crown Heads and the Aristocracy since1875



TRICKER'S Interior

CROCKETT & JONES




FOSTER & SONS




FLORIS, 89 JermynStreet, Perfumes, bath, essences,toiletwatersandsoapsince 1730


Floris shopfrontinthe XIX century

Taylor of Old Bond Street
Jeremiah Taylor first founded Taylor of Old Bond Street on September the 1st, 1854. Jeremiah opened his salon in
The 'Taylor ' brand epitomizes classic British style and understated elegance, reliability and quality. Our products are manufactured and designed to meet the highest standards and are made out of natural ingredients where appropriate. We strive on providing both exceptional customer service and products
TURNBULL & ASSER



TURNBULL& ASSER interior

HARVIE & HUDSON

HARVIE & HUDSON


HARVIE & HUDSON

22 JERMYN STREET HOTEL

22 Jermyn Street Hotel de Charme

BATES


GEO F TRUMPER

Paxton & Whitfield
Paxton & Whitfield were founded in 1797 but have roots going back to a market store in Aldwych in 1742. Originally located at 19 Jermyn Street , they moved to their current location in 1894.
Paxton & Whitfield hold two royal warrants, one from the Prince of Wales in 1997 and one from Queen Elizabeth II in 2001. The relationship with the Royal Warrant Holders Association goes back to Queen Victoria in 1850.
ROWLEY'S↧
The Best of Luxury Shopping on Jermyn Street, Old Bond St.../ SEE "POST" BELLOW .
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MAPP AND LUCIA / BBC / 2014 . SEE VÍDEO BELLOW.
Mapp and Lucia is a British drama television series that was first broadcast on BBC One from 29th to 31st December 2014. The three-part series, adapted by Steve Pemberton and directed by Diarmuid Lawrence, is based on E. F. Benson's Mapp and Lucia collection of novels.
Anna Chancellor as Emmeline 'Lucia' Lucas
Steve Pemberton as Georgie Pillson
Miranda Richardson as Elizabeth Mapp
Mark Gatiss as Major Benjy
Felicity Montagu as Godiva 'Diva' Plaistow
Gemma Whelan as Quaint Irene Coles
Paul Ritter as Reverend Kenneth Bartlett
Poppy Miller as Evie Bartlett
Nick Woodeson as Mr Wyse
Pippa Haywood as Mrs Wyse
Katy Brand as Hermione 'Hermy' Pillson
Joanna Scanlan as Ursula 'Ursy' Pillson
Frances Barber as Amelia, Contessa di Faraglione
Jenny Platt as Foljambe
Gavin Brocker as Cadman
Soo Drouet as Grosvenor
Susan Porrett as Withers
E.F. BENSON (1867 – 1940)
Mapp and Lucia is a collective name for a series of novels by E. F. Benson, and also the name for two British television adaptations based on those novels.
The novels feature humorous incidents in the lives of (mainly) upper-middle-class British people in the 1920s and 1930s, vying for social prestige and "one-upmanship" in an atmosphere of extreme cultural snobbery. Several of them are set in the small seaside town of Tilling , closely based on Rye , East Sussex , where Benson lived for a number of years and (like Lucia) served as mayor. Lucia previously lived at Riseholme, based on Broadway, Worcestershire, from where she brought to Tilling her celebrated recipe for Lobster à la Riseholme.
"Mallards", the home of Miss Mapp—and subsequently Lucia—was based on Lamb House in Rye . The house had previously been lived in by Henry James and had a garden room overlooking the street (unfortunately a German bomb destroyed the Garden Room in World War II. The rest of the house is now a National Trust property.)
The novels, in chronological order, are:
Queen Lucia (1920)
Miss Mapp (1922)
Lucia in London (1927)
Mapp and Lucia (1931)
Lucia's Progress (1935) (published in the U.S. as The Worshipful Lucia)
Trouble for Lucia (1939)
The first three books concern only the protagonist named in the title; the last three feature both Mapp and Lucia.
In 1977 Thomas Y. Cromwell Company reprinted all six novels in a compendium called Make Way for Lucia. The order of Miss Mapp and Lucia in London was switched in the compendium, and a Miss Mapp short story called "The Male Impersonator" was included between Miss Mapp and Mapp and Lucia.
"Desirable Residences", one further short story featuring Miss Mapp, and previously having seen only one magazine printing in Benson's own time, was discovered by Jack Adrian in the 1990s and included in his collection of Benson stories, Desirable Residences.[1] A slight oddity about this very short piece, is that the town of Tilling was called Tillingham in the original printing, according to Jack Adrian's introduction to his collection. The characters of Miss Mapp and Diva Plaistow are clearly recognizable, however, as are their desirable residences. Miss Mapp, for example here lives in "Mallards", the fictional Lamb House that was always the Queen Castle vied for by Mapp and Lucia.
The character Susan Leg, appearing briefly in Trouble for Lucia, first appeared as a major character in Benson's novel Secret Lives (1932), which is similar in style to the Mapp and Lucia books.
Richardson completely transformed herself with the simple addition of some distractingly prominent teeth, as befits Benson’s description. Before seeing her in action, I couldn’t picture her in Scales’s shoes, but whereas Chancellor was riffing on a performance style she has used before, this seemed like something genuinely out of Richardson ’s comfort zone. They contrasted each other flawlessly, one gliding over the cobbles while the other bobbed along clumsily, feeling every bump.
In 1950 the widow of Henry James's nephew gave Lamb House to the National Trust. Today the house is administered and maintained on the Trust's behalf by its current tenant. Some of James's personal possessions are on display, and there is an extensive walled garden, designed by Alfred Parsons at the request of Henry James, which is open to the public along with the house.
In the summer of 2014 Lamb House was transformed to become part of the set for the BBC's new adaptation of E F Benson's novel Mapp and Lucia. Having written the series at Lamb House and based it inRye , it was fitting that the property be at the heart of the new adaptation as 'Mallards'.
Mapp & Lucia (1985–1986)
Mapp and Lucia review – beautifully tart one-upwomanship
As two 1930s society mavens engaged in increasingly deranged warfare, Anna Chancellor and Miranda Richardson led us gloriously into a world of ludicrous standoffs and Italian hogwashery
Julia Raeside
Thursday 1 January 2015 / http://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2015/jan/01/mapp-and-lucia-review-richardson-chancellor
A seemingly impossible task lay ahead of The League of Gentlemen’s Steve Pemberton, judging by the number of people I’d seen expressing their terror at the thought of his new adaptation of EF Benson’s comic novels about Mapp and Lucia (BBC1), two 1930s society mavens engaged in all-out war for dominance of a picturesque Sussex town.
They couldn’t possibly like it if it wasn’t Channel 4’s 1980s version starring Geraldine McEwan and Prunella Scales, they declared. Although McEwan and Scales were brilliant, that’s no reason to place the books under glass, never to be touched again. It’s a self-sabotaging approach to believe only one actor can play a particular part. Can’t both Jeremy Brett and Basil Rathbone (not to mention Benedict Cumberbatch) be great Sherlock Holmeses? Well, if you did stay away, you missed a truly delightful piece of television and two splendid performances from Anna Chancellor, as melodramatic widow Emmeline “Lucia” Lucas, and Miranda Richardson, who gloriously inhabited the hoisted bosom and toothy fizzog of Elizabeth Mapp. More on those teeth later.
Pemberton’s nicely carbonated three-parter drew to a close, leaving me champing at the bit for more. More of Chancellor and Richardson’s beautifully tart one-upwomanship. More of the distractingly pretty Rye, its cobbles so perfectly suited to thwarting Mapp’s ungainly progress in low heels when trying to spy on her rival. More of the game supporting cast, including Felicity Montagu’s increasingly furious Diva, Mapp’s conscience and grudging ally. “One of us is going to have to dye,” barked Mapp at her friend when they turned up to a function in similar salmon pink frocks.
And definitely more of Pemberton’s clearly affectionate dialogue, with its acute ear for Benson’s subtly devastating zingers. The subtle chill of the Channel 4 adaptation is replaced with something warmer, perhaps in the palette of the production design or the performances of the supporting cast, but it by no means dilutes the acid that pours forth whenever the two women are in a room together.
Last night’s final visit to Tilling (Rye ’s fictional alter ego) began with Lucia’s ludicrously self-indulgent musical recital, to which she had graciously invited Mapp after weeks of social stand-off. “Beethoven AND tomatoes,” beamed Mapp tightly. “Yum.” As their gossamer truce dissolved, Mapp engaged in a determined plot to prove that Lucia was not in fact able to speak fluent Italian. It was an increasingly deranged campaign that saw Mapp, wild-of-eye, hair in disarray, hanging off the church tower spying on her insouciant adversary as she performed physical jerks in a striped bathing suit “like a wasp” when she should have been in bed with flu.
As if we hadn’t been spoiled enough for stunning female performances by the two leads, plus Montagu and Tuesday night’s excellent cameos by Joanna Scanlan and Katy Brand, the final episode was almost stolen by Frances Barber, who roared into town as Amelia, Contessa di Faraglione, to a suitably operatic change in the score. For a plot device brought in to merely disprove Lucia’s Italian hogwashery, Barber didn’t half make her mark.
Meanwhile, as the briefly banished Georgie Pillson, Pemberton allowed himself a tiny self-indulgence when his character overheard the staff speculating on his homosexuality and hairpiece; a small glimpse of an emotional inner life in an otherwise comically focused performance. His adaptation paced the plot neatly over three hours, inserting a new character at just the right point in the story.
As the episode reached its climax, a horde of extras took part in a behatted stampede, underscored by Zadok the Priest, when word got out that the Prince of Wales’s car was driving towards Tilling town centre. This flag-waving glee summed up the spirit behind the whole series. Everyone seemed genuinely, infectiously pleased to be there.
With Lucia’s decision to settle permanently in the town, Mapp was left to grimace as she dug in for the battles yet to come. I very much hope to see these future rumbles on screen, as I’d sit through another dozen rounds at least. Not goodbye then, but au reservoir, as they say in Tilling.
Christmas 2014: Can a new TV take on E F Benson’s cult Mapp and Lucia novels compare with the sublime 1985 series?
GERARD GILBERT / Saturday 06 December 2014 / http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/features/christmas-2014-can-a-new-tv-take-on-e-f-bensons-cult-mapp-and-lucia-novels-compare-with-the-sublime-1985-series-9905930.html
Students in the mid-1980s may have bonded over many things – their opposition to the Thatcher government, perhaps, or their collection of albums by The Cure – but comic Edwardian novelist EF Benson?
Such was the unlikely beginning to a beautiful friendship between Mark Gatiss and Steve Pemberton, when they first met at a drama college near Wakefield .
The gay son of a Victorian Archbishop of Canterbury , Benson remains best known for his Mapp and Lucia novels, a series of social comedies about warring upper-middle-class ladies in interwar Sussex . Hardly the sort of stories one might expect to grip the imaginations of northern working-class youth, then – and yet capture Gatiss and Pemberton they did. “When Mark came to my room and he spotted them [the novels] on my shelf we started coming out with all the catch phrases… ‘au reservoir’… ‘Quai-hai’… and the like”, says Pemberton. “That’s right”, agrees Gatiss. “To be sitting here doing it 30 years later is absolutely bizarre really, but brilliant.”
“Here” is up a cul-de-sac in the picturesque Old Town of Hastings in East Sussex , on the set of Pemberton’s new three-part adaptation of the novels, co-starring his old League of Gentlemen mucker, which is a centrepiece of the BBC’s Christmas schedule. The series has been filmed around the county, though the chief location is nearby Rye , Benson’s home town and the model for Tilling, the fictional seaside community that is the setting for a game of social one-upmanship (or womanship) between newcomer Emmeline “Lucia” Lucas and resident queen bee Elizabeth Mapp.
As Pemberton knows, his version has a lot to live up to – namely the sublime 1985 Channel 4 series starring Prunella Scales as Mapp, Geraldine McEwan as Lucia, and Nigel Hawthorne as McEwan’s consort Georgie Pillson, a role now taken by Pemberton. “Anyone who has fallen in love with the books by way of that adaptation will possibly find it hard to accept different people playing those roles”, says Pemberton, and – as one of those people – I can only concur.
Scales’s Mapp was terrific, bustling Sybil Fawlty-like around Tilling with her shopping basket, in a constant fury at once again being out-manoeuvred by Lucia. And McEwan, with her cod-Italian phrases and eyes swivelling mischievously, has never been funnier. But it was Hawthorne ’s Georgie who was the comic tour de force – fussing over his embroidery and delighting in the latest catty gossip. “It’s a huge pair of shoes to fill”, admits Pemberton, seated beside me in a Hastings side street, sporting a blazer, auburn toupée and moustache. “But I put that from my mind; he was superb in the role and I’m just trying to enjoy myself and be true to what Benson wrote as well.”
Pemberton has also been wise in his choice of leading ladies, Anna Chancellor, as Lucia, and an eerily Scales-like Miranda Richardson as Mapp. “There are not that many actresses who can do the drama and the comedy… it really isn’t easy to get that lightness of touch”, he says. “And physically they complete each other so well. It should feel like a boxing match where you don’t know which one is going to win.” “Anna looks like she comes from this period and she just slid so perfectly into this role”, says Gatiss. “I met her just before we started and she said ‘The terrible thing is that I think I am Lucia.”
Gatiss himself plays Major Benji, “ex-Indian Army major who drinks too much and talks about bagging tigers” and is given to yelling the aforementioned catch phrase of “Kway-hi!” (to be said when downing a dram), while of the supporting cast, Game of Thrones actress Gemma Whelan stands out as “Quaint Irene”, a pipe-smoking painter whose art outrages Tilling society more than her sexuality (Benson apparently based her on the Well of Loneliness author Radclyffe Hall, who also lived in Rye).
In fact the Mapp and Lucia novels were remarkable for their time in having two rather obviously gay characters – Georgie and Irene. “Benson’s entire family were gay [at least two of his five siblings were believed to have been]… that’s a sitcom waiting to happen”, says Gatiss. “It’s always had a massive gay following… quite rightly because it is very ahead of time… and Quaint Irene is absolutely in love with Lucia, and it’s just out there, while Lucia and Georgie that’s definitely a fag-hag relationship. But the weird thing about Tilling as a society is that they’re actually very accepting of their strange little foibles. And for the time that’s quite a foible.”
Other “foibles” include a flirtation with fascism. “They’re all in love with Germany and Italy and it’s that Miss Jean Brodie thing of half-admiring Mussolini”, says Gatiss. “There’s a whole unused plotline where they all become blackshirts, just because it’s fashionable.”
As filming wraps in Hastings , we’re driven the 12 or so miles back to Rye . Many of the locations being used will be familiar to fans of the 1985 series; the bonus this time, however, is, that the National Trust granted permission for filming to take place in Lamb House – the home of EF Benson (and before him of Henry James) and the model for Mallards, the house so fatefully rented from Mapp by Lucia,
Benson served as mayor of Rye , as does Lucia in Tilling, a perfect vantage point for observing the petty snobberies of this particular section of small-town life. “It’s absolutely timeless”, says Gatiss. “In fact a resident apparently approached the production team and murmured darkly that ‘If you want to know who the queen bee of Rye is now, I can tell you’.
“We’ve been filming in the church square and it’s so confined and tiny, everyone’s in and out of each other’s lives”, continues Gatiss. “Philip Roth was talking about why the life of academics is so riven with pettiness and nastiness and he says it’s precisely because the stakes are so low; that’s kind of what this is about.” “My kids are at primary school and it made me think of how that politics of the playground worked,” adds Pemberton, “which parents wanted to be the class reps and so on. I think it’s a universal situation. You had it in shows like Desperate Housewives.”
The triumph of EF Benson’s novels, as well as the 1980s adaptation, is that while we’re invited to laugh at these characters, we also feel for them, and it’s an attribute Pemberton hopes his version achieves as well. “Something we used to pride ourselves on in The League of Gentlemen was to bring pathos into it”, says Pemberton. Is Tilling another variation on Royston Vasey? “I suppose Tilling is the genteel version of Royston Vasey”, he says. “Vasey-by-the-Sea.”
‘Mapp and Lucia’ will be screening over Christmas on BBC1
In 1950 the widow of Henry James's nephew gave Lamb House to the National Trust. Today the house is administered and maintained on the Trust's behalf by its current tenant. Some of James's personal possessions are on display, and there is an extensive walled garden, designed by Alfred Parsons at the request of Henry James, which is open to the public along with the house.
During summer 2014, Lamb House was used as the fictional "Mallards" for a new BBC TV adaptation of E.F. Benson's Mapp and Lucia. A temporary replica of the Garden Room was constructed for filming.
Lamb House was built in 1722 by James Lamb, a wealthy wine merchant and local politician. In the winter of 1726 King George I took refuge at the house after his ship was washed ashore at nearby Camber Sands. James Lamb gave up his bedroom for the King, while Mrs Lamb gave birth to a baby boy during the night. The child was named George and the king consented to be the boy's godfather.
A detached Garden Room, with a large bay window overlooking the street, was built at right angles to the house in 1743, and originally served as a banqueting room.[2] Both Henry James and E. F. Benson later used the Garden Room as a base for their writing during the summer months. The Garden Room was destroyed by a German bomb in 1940.
Benson wrote lovingly of both the garden and house, which he renamed "Mallards", in his popular Mapp and Lucia novels. Lamb House is the subject of Joan Aiken's supernatural book The Haunting of Lamb House (1993), comprising three novellas about residents of the house at different times, including James and Benson (both of whom also wrote ghost stories).
Other tenants have included, the novelist Rumer Godden, the author and academic A. C. Benson, the author and politician H. Montgomery Hyde, the publisher Sir Brian Batsford, politician William Mabane, 1st Baron Mabane, the literary agent Graham Watson and the writers John Senior and Sarah Philo.
In the summer of 2014 Lamb House was transformed to become part of the set for the BBC's new adaptation of E F Benson's novel Mapp and Lucia. Having written the series at Lamb House and based it in
The three part drama written by Steve Pemberton, also stars Miranda Richardson, Anna Chancellor and Mark Gattiss, to name but a few, with the help from some locals taking part too.
The production company with the help of conservation teams at the National Trust designed a set fit for Miss Mapp's exacting standards and Rye stepped back in time for a fun few weeks.
Recreating a piece of Lamb House history
Bombed during the Second World War, the garden room at Lamb House was recreated for the filming of Mapp and Lucia. The convincing set gives viewers a window into the history of the house. It's hoped that with the help of fundraising, boosted by the filming, Lamb House might one day be reunited with a garden room once more.
Visitors to Lamb House in the spring of 2015 will be able to find out more about the making of Mapp and Lucia thanks to a small display made possible as the result of location fees for the filming. The house also has personal possession belonging to Henry James on show.
Mapp & Lucia (1985–1986)
The television series based on the three 1930s books, produced by London Weekend Television, was filmed in Rye and neighbouring Winchelsea in the 1980s, and starred Prunella Scales as Mapp, Geraldine McEwan as Lucia, Denis Lill as Major Benji Flint, and Nigel Hawthorne as Georgie. There were ten episodes, (which aired in two series of five) broadcast on Channel 4 in 1985 and 1986.
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Mapp & Lucia (1985–1986) |
MAPP AND LUCIA / BBC / 2014
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The Museum of London's Sherlock Holmes Tweed
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The Museum of London Tweed / Sherlock Holmes inspired tweed / Norton and Son's, Tinie Tempah models bespoke London Tweed suit
Tinie Tempah has a final fitting with head cutter Stephen Allen at Savile Row tailors, Norton and Sons
“This month, to coincide with London Collections: Men AW15, we’ve been lucky enough to work with iconic Londoner and musician Tinie Tempah to bring both the three piece suit and tweed bang up to date in a special collaboration.
The museum’s London Tweed design takes its inspiration from Sherlock Holmes, a character famous for wearing a tweed deerstalker and cape, and subject of our latest exhibition. The fabric’s colour palette was chosen following a close analysis of three sources:
The use of colours in the original Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (blue and yellow accents, against an urban grey)
Late Victorian tweed and hat fashions found within the Museum of London ’s fashion and textile collection
The latest menswear trend forecasting data”
http://blog.museumoflondon.org.uk/london-collections-men-tweed-tinie-tempah/Sherlock Holmes inspired tweed to launch in October
8 August 2014 / http://www.museumoflondon.org.uk/corporate/press-media/press-releases/sherlock-holmes-inspired-tweed-to-launch-in-october/
This October the Museum of London , in collaboration with Christys’ Hats and Lovat Mill, will launch a brand new tweed inspired by Sherlock Holmes to coincide with the opening of the museum’s next major exhibition about the famous, fictional detective.
The fabric design takes its inspiration from Sherlock Holmes, a character famous for wearing a tweed deerstalker and cape, and will be revealed in October. The colour palette was chosen following a close analysis of three sources: the use of colours in the original Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; late Victorian tweed and hat fashions established by cross-referencing the Museum of London’s fashion and textile collection with Christys' historic catalogues held in the Stockport Local Heritage Library; finally the latest menswear trend forecasting data, along with Lovat Mills’ modern dyeing and finishing techniques.
The tweed will go on sale, initially as a Christys’ deerstalker and other hats, in October 2014 to coincide with the opening of the major Sherlock Holmes exhibition at the Museum of London . The range will be available from Liberty , Christys’ and the Museum of London shop and online store. The project marks another milestone in the GLA and BFC supported project to position London as the home of menswear through London Collections: Men.
Sean O’Sullivan, Interim Director of Enterprise at the Museum of London , said:
“Partnerships such as this give us a fantastic opportunity to create products which inspire a passion for London ’s history, a story that the Museum of London is uniquely placed to tell. This new tweed woven by Lovat Mill is a sophisticated, contemporary design rooted in our extensive knowledge of London ’s menswear heritage. Without a doubt it will look stylish as a Christys’ hat and work well in future product ranges, within fashion and other categories.”
Steve Clarke, MD of Christys’ Hats, said:
“Christys Hats was established in London in 1773, not far from the current site of the Museum of London, and has been connected to the capital ever since. The Museum of London was very specific in its desire to develop a deerstalker hat and a tweed that Sherlock Holmes might have worn were he alive today - combining a classic profile with a contemporary edge - which is pretty close to our design ethos and has ensured great synergy in this collaboration.”
Sherlock Holmes opens at the Museum of London on Friday 17 October 2014 and runs until Sunday 12 April 2015.
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Notes for editors
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The Chesterfield Overcoat .
Phineas Cole Fall 2013
The
It was named after the Earl of Chesterfield.
No waist seams or front darts (up until then, those were the standard)
Single-breasted fly front
Short, notched lapel
Velvet collar (optional)
Straight side pockets – it looks like a flap pocket but it could be a jetted pocket
No cuffs
Single back vent and an otherwise plain back
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Inside 4 Princelet Street, Spitalfields, VÍDEO SEE BELOW / London, 27th January 2010
Nos. 2 and
Formerly Nos. 1 and 2 Princes Street
These two houses, on the south side of the street, were the last of the original houses to be built in Princelet Street . The builder was Samuel Worrall of Spitalfields, carpenter, under ninety-nine-year leases granted by Wood and Michell on 27 January 1723/4, the houses having by then been built. (fn. 64)The site had been vacant in Feb ruary 1721/2. (fn. 65) The leases also included No. 6 Wilkes Street , which was built at the same time. The lease of No. 2 was witnessed by Marmaduke Smith, carpenter.
In June 1724 Worrall assigned his leases of No. 2 and of No. 6 Wilkes Street to a glover for £756. (fn. 66) No. 4 was occupied in 1724 by Benjamin Truman. (fn. 43)
No. 2, the south-west corner house,contains three storeys and a roof loft. The building is one room deep and has a frontage four windows wide, with the doorway in the second opening from the left. Although the original fenestration pattern remains, the front has been refaced, or altered, and covered with stucco, probably around 1860. The ground storey is channel-jointed and the upper part coursed in imitation of stonework. The door way, and the one opening on to Wilkes Street , have cornice-hoods resting on moulded consoles. The interior appears to be largely original. The hall is lined with plain rebated panelling finished with a box-cornice, and the dog-leg staircase has closed strings, turned balusters, column-newels, and moulded straight handrails.
As originally built, No. 2 was uniform with No. 4 which survives in a much less altered state. Each of the upper two storeys of No. 4 has four evenly spaced windows, with a blind window against the party wall to complete the even rhythm across the two fronts. The ground storey has a stucco facing of about 1820, with Doric pilasters supporting a plain entablature. The rest of the front is of yellow brick, with red brick jambs and high segmental arches to the windows, which now contain wooden casements with hoppers. A brick bandcourse underlines the parapet which is finished with a stone coping. One small hipped-roofed dormer lights the loft. The interior finishings are similar to those in No. 2, but in far better order.
Spitalfields' historic association with the silk industry was established by French Protestant (Huguenots) refugees who settled in this area after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685. By settling here, outside the bounds of the City of London , they hoped to avoid the restrictive legislation of the City Guilds. The Huguenots brought with them little, apart from their skills, and an Order in Council of 16 April 1687 raised £200,000 for the relief of their poverty. In December 1687, the first report of the committee set up to administer the funds reported that 13,050 French refugees were settled in London, primarily around Spitalfields, but also in the nearby settlements of Bethnal Green, Shoreditch, Whitechapel and Mile End New Town.
The late 17th and 18th centuries saw an estate of well-appointed terraced houses, built to accommodate the master weavers controlling the silk industry, and grand urban mansions built around the newly created Spital Square . Christ Church , Spitalfields on Fournier Street , designed by the architect Nicholas Hawksmoor, was built during the reign of Queen Anne to demonstrate the power of the established church to the dissenting Huguenots, who had built ten of their own chapels in the area.More humble weavers dwellings were congregated in the Tenterground.
There has been a market on the site since 1638 when Charles I gave a licence for flesh, fowl and roots to be sold in what was then known as Spittle Fields. The Market currently receives around 25,000 visitors every week.
From the 1730s Irish weavers came here, after a decline in the Irish linen industry to take up work in the silk trade. The 18th century saw periodic crises in the silk industry, bought on by imports of French silk – in a lull between the wars between the two rivals; and imports of printed calicos. The depression in the trade, and thence the prices paid to weavers, led to protests. In 1769, the Spitalfield Riots occurred, where attempts were made to break up meetings of weavers, called to discuss the threat to wages, caused by another downturn in the market for silk. This ended with an Irish and a Huguenot weaver being hanged in front of the Salmon and Ball public house at Bethnal Green.
Price controls on amounts master weavers could pay journeymen for each piece were established. This removed all incentive to pay higher wages during good times. During bad times workers had no work. As the price was per piece, there was incentive for using machinery, as master would have to pay for the machine and still pay the same price per piece to journeymen. By 1822 labour rates were so above market labour rates, that much of the employment in silk manufacture had moved to the country. Remaining manufacture tended to focus on expensive fashion items, which required proximity to court and had higher margins.
By the Victorian era, the silk industry had entered a long decline and the old merchant dwellings had degenerated into multi-occupied slums. Spitalfields became a by-word for urban deprivation, and, by 1832, concern at a London cholera epidemic led The Poor Man's Guardian (18 February 1832) to write of Spitalfields:
The low houses are all huddled together in close and dark lanes and alleys, presenting at first sight an appearance of non-habitation, so dilapidated are the doors and windows:- in every room of the houses, whole families, parents, children and aged grandfathers swarm together.
In 1860, a treaty was established with France , allowing the import of cheaper French silks. This left the many weavers in Spitalfields, and neighbouring Bethnal Green and Shoreditch indigent. New trades such as furniture and boot making came to the area; and the large windowed Huguenot houses were found suitable for tailoring, attracting a new population of Jewish refugees drawn to live and work in the textile industry.
By the later 19th century inner Spitalfields had eclipsed rival claimants to the dubious distinction of being the worst criminal rookery of London with common lodging-houses in the Flower and Dean Street area being a focus for the activities of robbers and prostitutes. The latter street was dubbed in 1881 as being "perhaps the foulest and most dangerous street in the metropolis". Another claimant to the distinction of being "the worst street in London" was nearby Dorset Street, which was highlighted by the brutal killing and mutilation of a young woman named Mary Kelly in her lodgings here by the serial killer known as Jack the Ripper in the autumn of 1888.This was the climax of a whole series of slayings of local prostitutes that became known as the Whitechapel Murders. The sanguinary activities of "Jack" was one of the factors which prompted the demolition of some of the worst streets in the area 1891-94. Deprivation, however, continued and was brought to notice by social commentators such as Jack London in his The People of the Abyss (1903). He highlighted 'Itchy Park ', next to Christ Church , Spitalfields, as a notorious rendezvous for homeless vagrants.
In the late 20th century the Jewish presence diminished, to be replaced by an influx of Bangladeshi immigrants, who also worked in the local textile industry and made Brick Lane the curry capital of London .
Another development, from the 1960s onwards, has been a campaign to save the housing stock of old merchant terraces to the west of Brick Lane from demolition. Many have been conserved by the Spitalfields Historic Buildings Trust. This has led to gentrification, a large increase in property prices and the removal of the last of the vagrants from the area.
Current 'urban regeneration' has also seen the erection of large modern office blocks, between Bishopsgate and Spitalfields Market. These represent, in effect, an expansion of the City of London , northwards, beyond its traditional bounds, into this area. However, a rear-guard action by conservationists has resulted in the preservation of Old Spitalfields Market and the provision of shopping, leisure amenities and a new plaza behind the city blocks.Permission was granted to demolish the Fruit and Wool exchange on the edge of old Spitalfields market to provide office buildings by developer Exemplar.
Since 1998 the area has formed part of the larger Spitalfields and Banglatown local government ward. This decision was considered controversial at the time and still rouses strong opinions on both sides.
Dennis Severs' House in Folgate Street is a "still-life drama" created by the previous owner as an "historical imagination" of what life would have been like inside for a family of Huguenot silk weavers.[20][21] In 2009, Raven Row, a non-profit contemporary art centre, opened to the public at 56 Artillery Lane . Constructed within a pair of 18th century silk merchants' houses, onto which London practice 6a Architects added two contemporary galleries, it stands on the part of the street know until 1895 as Raven Row. Whitechapel Art Gallery is located at the bottom of Brick Lane .
Amongst the many well known artists living in Spitalfields are Gilbert and George, Ricardo Cinalli, Tracey Emin and Stuart Brisley. TV presenter, architecture expert and Georgian fanatic Dan Cruickshank was an active campaigner for Spitalfields, and continues to live in the area. Writer Jeanette Winterson turned a derelict Georgian house into an organic food shop, Verde's, as part of the Slow Food movement.
Spitalfields figures in a number of works of literature, including A New Wonder, a Woman Never Vexed (performed 1610-14; printed 1632) by William Rowley, a dramatisation of the foundation of St Mary Spital; The People of the Abyss (1903), the journalistic memoir by Jack London; Hawksmoor (1985) by Peter Ackroyd; Rodinsky's Room (1999) by Iain Sinclair and Rachel Lichtenstein; Brick Lane (2003) by Monica Ali; and The Quincunx (1991) by Charles Palliser.
19th century Spitalfields was recreated as the setting for the film From Hell about Jack the Ripper. This included a reconstruction (in Prague ) of the notorious Ten Bells pub (still extant on Commercial Street ): alleged to have been a rendezvous of some of the Ripper's prostitute victims, before they were murdered. In the film Johnny Depp (as Inspector Abberline) is seen drinking there with Ripper victim Mary Jane Kelly.
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Luciano Barbera The true “gentiluomo”.
Carlo Barbera is a family-owned high-end textile manufacturer and clothing designer in Callabiana Italy , about 50 miles west of Milan where there is a Luciano Barbera showroom. There is also a showroom on 5th Ave , in New York . The factory is named after Luciano Barbera's father who was 99 in 2010. In 2010 the reported average price of fabric from the Carlo Barbara factory was 41 euros a meter ($48.75 a yard), about twice that of their Italian competitors.
The fabric and clothing manufactured by the firm are generally considered to be of the finest quality; the yarn after dying is rested six months while it regains humidity before weaving. However, in 2010 sales were only about half of their peak in the 1990s and the company had a large debt. Sales have been impacted by both domestic competitors which copy Barbera's methods and manufacturers who import from China and other low wage exporters. Diminishing demand for personally tailored bespoke clothing also plays a role.
Luciano Barbera HOME PAGE
Is Italy Too Italian?
By DAVID SEGAL
Published: July 31, 2010 / http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/01/business/global/01italy.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0
Dave Yoder for The New York Times
The clothier Luciano Barbera in his family’s “spa for yarn,” where crates of thread rest for months. Economists fear that such small-scale artisanship cannot sustain |
“THIS tradition is finita,” says Luciano Barbera, as he opens the door to an underground warehouse. Dozens of large wooden boxes are stacked to the ceiling, containing nearly 80 tons of colorful thread, wound in spools and idling like sunbathers at a beach, absorbing moisture in a cavernous room kept naturally cool and humid by a creek that burbles under the floor.
“I call it a spa for yarn,” explains Mr. Barbera, a lean and regal 72-year-old, who is dressed in a style that could be described as aristo-casual: white linen button-down shirt, brown herringbone pants and brown leather shoes. He is giving a quick tour of the Carlo Barbera mill, named for his 99-year-old father, and destined to be run by two or three of Luciano’s sons.
Mr. Barbera calls wool a living fiber, and he does not mean this metaphorically. After yarn is dyed here, it rests in the spa for as long as six months, recuperating until 20 percent of its weight is water. Then the material undergoes a 15-step process, which Mr. Barbera will not detail, other than to magisterially summarize it as “the nobilization of the fabric.”
Any shortcuts, he says, would harm the fabric’s “performance.”
Wait, performance?
“Yes, performance,” he says in an accent both purring and professorial. “If your suit is not performing well, it’s like being in a car where you can feel every little bump in the road. If a suit is performing well, it’s as though you drive right over the bumps and you feel nothing.”
And thus the paradox.
As insiders of the fashion world will confirm, the bolts of wool and cashmere produced at this mill can indeed be described as high performance, among the finest in the world, sold to dozens of luxury brands like Armani, Zegna and Ralph Lauren.
The financial performance of the mill that creates this fabric, on the other hand, is far from stellar.
Like much of the Italian economy, the Carlo Barbera factory is struggling and for reasons, according to academics, that say just about everything you need to know about what ails Italy .
Since the economic crisis began, this country has regularly turned up on the informal list of Nations That Worry Europe. While its finances are not as precarious as those of Greece , Portugal or Ireland , because it is far larger — the Italian economy is the seventh largest in the world — its troubles are more frightening. As a recent report by UniCredit, a European banking group, put it, Italy is “the swing factor” in the crisis, “the largest of the vulnerable countries, and most vulnerable of the large.”
Study the numbers and you will find symptoms of distress that look a lot like those of Greece . Public sector debt amounts to roughly 118 percent of the gross domestic product, nearly identical to Greece . And like Greece , Italy is trying to ease fears in the euro zone and elsewhere with an austerity package, one intended to cut the deficit in half, to 2.7 percent of G.D.P., by 2012.
But dig a little deeper and the similarities end. The Italians, unlike the Greeks, are born savers, and much of the Italian debt is owned by the Italians. That means that unlike Greece , which will be sending a sizable percentage of its G.D.P. to foreign creditors for a generation to come, Italy is basically in hock to its own citizens.
“I know that in the States, all Mediterranean countries get lumped together,” says Carlo Altomonte, an economist with Bocconi University in Milan . “But Italy ’s problem isn’t that we have a lot of debt. It’s that we don’t grow.”
Like Italy , Mr. Barbera has debt woes — he owes his creditors roughly $5.8 million and says that if his country’s financial system offered the protections of Chapter 11-style bankruptcy, he would have sought it several years ago. But he could also solve his debt problem if more orders were coming in.
Instead, orders are drying up. The Barberas have long been small, niche players, the family that high-end designers turn to when assembling their most fabulous collections. And since 1971, Luciano Barbera has also sold clothing under his own name, made with his own fabric. Today the line is sold in stores like Barney’s and Neiman Marcus, handmade suits that sell for $4,000 and a line of upmarket women’s wear, some of which you can see on Angelina Jolie in the recent film “Salt.”
But sales for Luciano Barbera clothing and Carlo Barbera fabric have drastically slowed in recent years. In the late ’90s, the mill enjoyed record annual sales of what amounts to about $15.5 million, Mr. Barbera says. Last year, the figure was half that sum.
WHEN describing the ills of his businesses, Mr. Barbera tends to focus on one issue: the “Made in Italy ” label. For the last decade, he says, a growing number of clothing designers have been buying cheaper fabric in China , Bulgaria and elsewhere and slapping “Made in Italy ” on garments, even if those garments are merely sewn here.
Until recently, there weren’t any rules about what “Made in Italy ” actually meant, but that will change when a new law goes into effect in October. It states that if at least two stages of production — there are four stages altogether — occur in Italy , a garment is made in Italy .
To Mr. Barbera, this is an outrage, though somehow the word “outrage” doesn’t quite capture the depth of his feelings. He says the law will wreck the national brand, which has long been built on the skill of its craftspeople.
In op-ed articles and an assortment of meetings, he has crusaded against the law, clashing with a nemesis with a familiar last name: Santo Versace, the chairman of the Versace house of fashion. Mr. Versace is also a member of Italy ’s Parliament and a co-sponsor of what is officially called the Reguzzoni-Versace Law.
“It’s a truffa,” says Mr. Barbera one recent afternoon, using the Italian word for scam. “And I am fighting with all my strength to make people understand that this country is destroying itself in order to advance the interests of just a few people who are unfortunately members of the most powerful caste of this country.”
But labeling is just one of many obstacles standing between Mr. Barbera and profitability. To understand why his factory, and so much of Italy , is stagnant or worse, requires a bit of geopolitical history and a look at the highly idiosyncratic business culture here. It is defined, to a large degree, by deep-seated mistrust — not just of the government, but of anyone who isn’t part of the immediate family — as well as a widespread aversion to risk and to growth that to American eyes looks almost quaint.
It has economists here worried not about a looming fiasco so much as a gradual, grinding decline.
“There is no sense of what a market economy is in this country,” says Professor Altomonte. “What you see here is an incredible fear of competition.”
THE Carlo Barbera factory is a series of glass and brick buildings beside a stream about 55 miles west of Milan . Luciano Barbera grew up here, learning the craft from his father, before heading to the University of Leeds in England .
He brought home know-how in textile engineering as well as admiration for British finery, to which he added a flair for color and pattern and which he has turned into a personal trademark. A fashion director at Neiman Marcus once called Mr. Barbera “the most elegant man in the world.” It is not uncommon for strangers to introduce themselves and ask, “How can I look like you?”
“I don’t want to generate people who all look the same,” he says, sitting in his office one recent afternoon. “I am a soloist. You can be a soloist and play in an orchestra.”
His career as a designer began, he says, almost by accident. In 1962, a photographer from Vogue snapped a photo of him in a suit made of fabric he had designed. (In the image, he is leaning against a fence, a cigar in hand, gazing at his horse, Edwan.) Several years later, a man named Murray Pearlstein, who owned LouisBoston, a menswear store, knocked at the Carlo Barbera factory, introduced himself to Luciano and told him that he wanted to sell his line of clothing to the American market.
“I said: ‘Mr. Pearlstein, I have no collection. I have only my own suits.’ He said: ‘You have talent. You should design your own collection.’ ”
At roughly 41 euros a meter ($48.75 a yard), the average price of the fabric that the Carlo Barbera factory produces today is almost double that of competitors in Biella, a town in the foothills of the Alps that has been renowned for centuries as a textiles hub. The problem is that fewer designers have been willing to pay this premium, and factories in other countries have been copying the Barberas’ methods, with results that may not be as good but that cost a small fraction of the price.
There’s a demand-side problem, too: the number of men buying bespoke suits has plunged in recent years, as the workplace becomes more casual. LouisBoston doesn’t carry Luciano Barbera any longer.
“At a certain point, he could have gone to China and opened factories there,” says Mr. Pearlstein, who is now retired. “But mentally, I don’t think there was any way he could do that because he has always been so committed to his hands-on methods.”
Mr. Barbera says he has no qualms about globalization. In his opinion, Italy can’t compete when it comes to low-skill labor and shouldn’t try.
“But I say that Italy , with its 20 million workers, can be the boutique of the world,” he says. That will never happen, he adds, if designers can buy fabric outside Italy and tag it “Made in Italy .”
While his vehemence on this subject is easy to understand, economists here say that Mr. Barbera’s small empire would be teetering even if he could rewrite the “Made in Italy ” law tomorrow.
In a list of what is crushing Mr. Barbera’s balance sheet, they say, the provenance of labels is not at the top.
FIVE years ago, Francesco Giavazzi needed a taxi. Cabs are relatively scarce in Milan , especially at 5 a .m., when he wanted to head to the airport, so he called a company at 4:30 to schedule a pickup. But when he climbed into the cab half an hour later, he discovered that the meter had been running for more than 20 minutes, because the taxi driver had arrived soon after the call and started charging for his time. Allowed by the rules, but to Mr. Giavazzi, utterly unfair.
“So it was 20 euros before we started the trip to the airport,” recalls Mr. Giavazzi, who is an economics professor at Bocconi University . “I said, ‘This is impossible.’ ”
Professor Giavazzi later wrote an op-ed article denouncing this episode as another example of the toll exacted by Italy ’s innumerable guilds, known by several names here, including “associazioni di categoria.” (These are different from unions, another force here, in that guilds are made up of independent players in a trade or profession who have joined to keep outsiders out and maintain standards, as opposed to representing employees in negotiations with management, as a union might.) Even baby sitters have associations in Italy .
The op-ed did not endear Professor Giavazzi to the city’s cab drivers. They pinned leaflets with his name and address at taxi stands around Milan and for the next five nights, cabs drove around his home, honking their horns.
“This is a country with a lot of rents,” says Professor Giavazzi, sitting in his office one recent afternoon, using the economists’ term for excess profits that flow to a business because of a lack of competition. “You need a notary public, it’s like 1,000 euros before you even open your mouth. If you’re a notary public in this country, you live like a king.”
For Mr. Barbera, as is true with every entrepreneur here, the prevalence and power of Italy ’s guilds explains much of what is driving up costs. He says he must overspend for accountants, lawyers, truckers and other members of guilds on a list that goes on and on: “Everything has a tariff, and you have to pay.”
THE protectionist impulses of the guilds are mimicked throughout the Italian labor market. The rules are different for small companies, but in effect, people with a full-time job in a company with more than 18 workers have what amounts to tenure, even if they don’t belong to a union. This makes managers reluctant to hire, especially in a downturn. You are stuck with new employees in perpetuity, whether they’re good or not.
A sclerotic job market is a major reason that the Italian economy has been all but dormant for the past decade, growing far more slowly than its European peers. And this is a country that never had a housing bust or a major bank crisis.
So how does Italy keep going? Given the numbers, you expect it to be flat on its back. But when you visit, there are hardly any signs of despair, even in Biella , where hundreds of factories and warehouses have closed in the last decade. Why?
One answer is the black economy, say economists. Roughly one-quarter of Italy ’s G.D.P. is off the books. When you inquire about the cause and persistence of this longstanding fact of life, people here say that most Italians have little sense of national identity, an obstacle to a system of national taxation. The country didn’t really begin to transcend its clannish roots and regional dialects until after World War II; even today, displays of national pride are reserved for World Cup victories and little else.
Italians, notes Professor Altomonte, are among the world’s heaviest consumers of bottled water. “Do you know why? Because the water in the tap comes from the government.”
The suspicion of Italians when it comes to extra-familial institutions explains why many here care more about protecting what they have than enhancing their wealth. Most Italians live less than a mile or two from their parents and stay there, often for financial benefits like cash and in-kind services like day care. It’s an insularity that runs all the way up to the corporate suites. The first goal of many entrepreneurs here isn’t growth, so much as keeping the business in the family. For a company to really expand, it needs capital, but that means giving up at least some control. So thousands of companies here remain stubbornly small — all of which means Italy is a haven for artisans but is in a lousy position to play the global domination game.
“The prevailing management style in this country is built around loyalty, not performance,” says Tito Boeri, scientific director at Fondazione Rodolfo Debenedetti, who has written about Italy ’s dynastic capitalism.
In the eternal contest between the meticulously honed and the nationally franchised, Italy knows where it stands. As a matter of profit and loss, it doesn’t make sense to store wool in a spa and let it convalesce for six months, but the methods of Luciano Barbera were never destined for a get-rich-quick guide to manufacturing. His business will make sense only to customers, and for them, quality has a logic of its own.
And of course, the worship of growth has its limitations. The American economy is vastly more robust, but instead of family-owned bakeries, which seem to dot every hectare of Italy , we’ve got Quiznos. And for all the efficiency and horsepower in Germany , no character in a movie has ever welled up and sighed, “We’ll always have Stuttgart .”
Despite his cash flow woes, Mr. Barbera is sticking to his plan, even the plan to hand his business to his sons, which according to a national maxim is likely to end in tears.
“We say in this country that the first generation builds, the second generation maintains and the third generation destroys,” Mr. Barbera says. “But my father and I worked together, so I think we were the first generation. My sons are the second generation. So at least they will maintain.”
MR. Barbera can discuss all the quirks and pathologies of the Italian economy, but there is rarely more than five minutes between his monologues about “Made in Italy .” He is reluctant to name the fashion houses he thinks are snookering consumers, in part because they are his customers, and in part because they are acting legally.
“I’m criticizing the law,” he says. “I am not criticizing the people who buy my fabric.”
One name he is happy to mention is Santo Versace, whose purchases — his brand buys a “very small” amount of fabric, says Mr. Barbera — are eclipsed by his role in pushing the new law.
In a phone interview, Mr. Versace noted that there was no “Made in Italy ” rule before the law he co-wrote, which means his rule is a huge improvement on the free-for-all that had existed. Yes, his company makes less expensive products, like jeans, in countries like Croatia and Turkey , but he said every luxury brand does the same.
“Never our top stuff,” he said, through an interpreter. “All of that is made in Italy .”
He sounded skeptical about one of Mr. Barbera’s ideas: a label that simply lays out the origins of a garment, stating where its fabric was made, where it was constructed, and so on.
“You can’t make a label too complicated,” said Mr. Versace. “You need a simplified label. Otherwise you can’t sell things.”
For now, Mr. Barbera is hoping that the European Commission will overturn the law, which it can do. Meanwhile, garments in the collection that bears his name are labeled “Entirely manufactured in Italy .”
Economists said that Mr. Barbera had a point, but they also said that worrying about this issue was like fretting about the head cold of a patient with Stage 3 cancer. They see a country with a service sector dominated by guilds, which don’t just overcharge but also raise the barriers to entry for the millions in ill-fated manufacturing jobs who might otherwise find work as, for instance, taxi drivers. They see a timid entrepreneur class. They see a political system in the thrall of the older voters who want to keep what they have, even if it dooms the nation to years of stasis.
They see a society whose best and brightest are leaving and not being replaced by immigrants, because Italy has so little upward mobility to offer.
To Professor Giavazzi, the future here doesn’t look like Greece . It looks like Argentina .
“Before World War II , Argentina was rich,” he says. “Even in 1960, the country was twice as rich as Italy .” Today, he says, you can compare the per capita income of Argentina to that of Romania . “Because it didn’t grow. A country could get rich in 1900 just by producing corn and meat, but that is not true today. But it took them 100 years to realize they were becoming poor. And that is what worries me about Italy . We’re not going to starve next week. We are just going to decline, slowly, slowly, and I’m not sure what will turn that around.”
Mr. Barbera is optimistic. He is working with a bank to allow him to pay off creditors. After lengthy negotiations with the government and workers’ representatives, he has reduced his payroll to 90 employees from 120.
Best of all, he says he thinks he has found a large group of new customers in an improbable place: China , where he has been talking to a number of distributors. Given that he has been undersold by the Chinese for years, it would be a surprising twist if Chinese consumers became fans of Mr. Barbera’s fabric and his painstaking methods.
“Water from the creek,” he says, as we leave the yarn spa. “Listen. It is the sound of music.”
The sentiment seems so sincere and romantic that it sounds as if he could be kidding. But when the line elicits a laugh, Mr. Barbera’s gentle rebuke makes it plain that he is not.
“You know,” he says, with a resilient smile, “it is a hard world for poets.”
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KINGSMAN / THE SECRET SERVICE by Mr Porter.
Curated British luxury
MR PORTER and director Mr Matthew Vaughn have created a bespoke collection from Ms Arianne Phillips’ costume design for Kingsman: The Secret Service, to be released in early 2015. Each piece is crafted in Britain by heritage manufacturers, from the tailoring to the ties.
Hand-picked collaborations
Ranging from tailoring to eyewear
Exclusive to MR PORTER
How to dress like Colin Firth (by Mr Porter)
Online retailer Mr Porter releases a line of suits based on those from new film, Kingsman: The Secret Service
Posted by
Morwenna Ferrier
Monday 12 January 2015 / http://www.theguardian.com/fashion/fashion-blog/2015/jan/12/how-to-dress-like-colin-firth-mr-porter-kingsman
Sunday evening on the third day of London Collections: Men. From Christopher Shannon to Alexander McQueen, most of the four-day event has been geared towards wit, innovation and bold new directions in menswear, but this evening saw a return to trad tailoring as Mr Porter, the menswear arm of online retailer Net-a-porter, unveiled an entire collection inspired by a film.
Kingsman: The Secret Service, starring Colin Firth as a sort of Bond-esque spy trying to recruit a new team, opens in a few weeks. Based on a cult comic book and directed by Matthew Vaughn of Kick-Ass fame, the film’s premise is a group of spies masquerading as Savile Row tailors; the whole thing is set largely in the back room of a tailor’s shop. As Vaughn told The Hollywood Reporter: “It’s not like the clothes are an added benefit or not utterly functional to the story. They are a big part of the story.” So Mr Porter’s decision to launch a line of Savile Row-style suits makes more than just commercial sense.
The collection includes double-breasted, pinstripe 1980s-style suits, designed by Arianne Phillips, Madonna’s stylist who also worked with Firth on A Single Man, along with sunglasses from Cutler and Gross, cotton poplin shirts by Turnbull & Asser, a rose-gold watch by Bremont and George Cleverley brogues. The entire 60-piece Kingsman collection is British-made.
While product placement in films has been Hollywood’s bread and butter for the past few years – the first Sex And The City movie referenced more than 60 different brands – this is the first time customers have been able to buy all the costumes from a film. It is thought that Phillips designed the costumes with commerciality in mind. Vaughn said: “To be blunt, there aren’t many clothing options for men like me, in their 40s. Suits are cut super-skinny and tight, or they’re very traditional. I realised there’s no men’s line smack dab in the middle.” The collection is relatively limited-edition, but the Kingsman label is already expected to come back for a second season in spring 2015.
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“Polar White” duffle coat discovered in a second hand shop
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On the Wilder Shores of Love: a Bohemian Life by Lesley Blanch
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Lesley Blanch Edited by Georgia de Chamberet Published by Virago, 15 January 2015, hardback, £20.00 There are two sorts of romantic: those who love, and those who love the adventure of loving – Lesley Blanch 'Lesley Blanch was not a school, a trend, or a fashion, but a true original' - Philip Mansel Born in 1904, she died aged 103, having gone from being a household name to a mysterious and neglected living legend. She was writing her memoirs at her death, beginning with her very odd Edwardian childhood. Her goddaughter, who was working with her at the time, has now collected that piece and many others, some never published, some published only in French; some letters, some Vogue articles to create On the Wilder Shores of Love: Sketches from a Bohemian Life which captures the essence of a rich and rewarding life spanning the twentieth century. Lesley Blanch chose to 'escape the boredom of convention' and having first worked as a theatre designer, she became Vogue's features editor during World War II. In 1946 she left Lesley Blanch is renowned for her bestselling book The Wilder Shores of Love, which has been translated into over a dozen languages. Her other works include Round the World in Eighty Dishes, The Sabres of Paradise, Under a Lilac Bleeding Star, The Nine Tiger Man, Journey into the Mind's Eye, Pavilions of the Heart and Pierre Loti: Portrait of an Escapist. She was the editor of Harriette Wilson's Memoirs. She died in 2007. Georgia de Chamberet was an editor at Quartet Books before founding her own London-based literary agency, BookBlast Ltd. Georgia is a committee member of English PEN's Writers in Translation programme. She is Literary Executor for the Estate of Lesley Blanch and is Lesley’s goddaughter. @lesleyblanch For further information please contact Emily Burns, Publicity Manager, Virago, 020 7911 8086, emily.burns@littlebrown.co.uk |
On the Wilder Shores of Love: a Bohemian Life by Lesley Blanch, review: 'deliciously readable'
Lesley Blanch’s writings reveal a woman who never ceased to be the star of her own life
By Jane Shilling9:00AM GMT 19 Jan 2015 / http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/bookreviews/11347881/On-the-Wilder-Shores-of-Love-a-Bohemian-Life-by-Lesley-Blanch-review.html
A common complaint among modern women is that in our early 30s we stop being the stars of our own lives, relegated from the spotlight to the chorus-line by the daily slog of grown-up responsibilities. Anyone bemusedly wondering how that unglamorous demotion came about will find a compelling role model in the author, journalist, artist and traveller Lesley Blanch, who died in 2007, aged 103, having never for an instant ceased to be the star of her own life.
If Blanch led a charmed life, it was one of her own determined making. She was born in Chiswick to parents who were vaguely perturbed by her arrival. “I don’t think we are quite used to you yet,” they would sometimes remark. But from earliest childhood, she was captivated by the notion of an exotic beyond: “I never remember a time when I was not obsessed by a longing to travel, to reach some remote horizon,” she wrote.
Blanch trained as an artist at the Slade, and worked as an illustrator and theatre designer. But it is for her writing, especially The Wilder Shores of Love (1954), an impressionistic account of four glamorous female travellers, that she is best remembered.
Blanch published 12 books on subjects as various as the courtesan Harriette Wilson and imperialist Russian rule in early-19th-century Georgia . The sensibility she brought to her subjects was so distinctive that all her writing was essentially autobiographical, but her only book-length memoir was Journey into the Mind’s Eye, a highly scented account of distant travel and lost love.
In her last years, Blanch began to write about her Edwardian childhood, and also produced an account of her marriage to the novelist Romain Gary, who left her for the actress Jean Seberg. These substantial fragments of memoir, together with a selection of her travel writing and journalism for Vogue magazine, have been assembled into an account of her life by her god-daughter and friend Georgia de Chamberet.
Blanch’s great passions were travel, exotic objects (preferably in combination – “travel heavy” was her motto), and a mysterious figure, identified only as “The Traveller”. His real identity – he was the Russian theatre director and designer Theodore Komisarjevsky – is hidden in plain sight in Journey into the Mind’s Eye, and de Chamberet confirms it: “I asked Lesley about Komisarjevsky the last time I saw her in 2007. She answered: 'Peggy Ashcroft took him off me.’ ”
Komisarjevsky was a friend of Blanch’s parents and a beloved visitor from her earliest childhood. His unpredictable appearances brought a whiff of the steppes to suburban Chiswick, and his extraordinary gifts, including a Fabergé egg, fuelled Blanch’s lifelong passion for singular possessions.
When she was 17 and “The Traveller” was 39, he invited her to Paris and, under the eye of her inattentive chaperone, seduced her, to the intense satisfaction of them both – while it lasted. That love affair left her with a taste for dramatic, interesting, unreliable foreign lovers. (Shirley Conran once asked her, by way of research, what it was like having an Arab lover, and was briskly told to get her own.) Blanch was 40 when she married Gary, who qualified on all counts, and her memoir of their marriage is a nicely acidulated contrast to the crème Chantilly narrative of Journey into the Mind’s Eye.
Observing that “like all good storytellers, Lesley plundered her life and her passions and turned tragedy into beauty”, de Chamberet compresses into a lengthy footnote the melancholy episode of Blanch’s teenage pregnancy and the daughter given up for adoption to family friends: “ 'I don’t want to dwell on it,’ she said with a closed, distant expression.”
For a generation raised on therapy and the assiduous pursuit of emotional “truth”, there is something disconcerting about the contrast between Blanch’s intensely sexy femininity and her quasi-masculine ability to compartmentalise emotion. Sooner or later, no doubt, a formal biography will dismantle the rococo stage set on which she chose to present herself, to reveal a reality that is bleaker, but not necessarily closer to the truth.
Blanch wrote that “learning how to deal with pain is the most important thing in life”, and this volume, edited with affection and grace by de Chamberet, is a deliciously readable monument to a writer who combined a steely resilience and capacity for hard work with an elegant frivolity and a voracious appetite for love, beauty and adventure.
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The LODEN Overcoat.
To produce Loden fabric, strong yarns are woven loosely into cloth which then undergoes a lengthy process of shrinking, eventually acquiring the texture of felt and becoming quite dense. It is then brushed with a fuller's teasel and the nap is clipped, a process which is repeated a number of times until the fabric provides good warmth for the weight, and is relatively supple, windproof and extremely durable.
Johann Georg Frey started his Munich weaving business in 1842 and soon invented loden, a boiled-wool textile similar to felt. Thirty-six years later, Frey Jr improved on his father’s invention by developing napped loden, a water-resistant version of the original. The thick, warm fabric and the classic coats traditionally made from it have become the de-facto costume for alpine men wanting to protect themselves from the region’s weather, and Loden Frey is still the place to get them.
Maffeistrasse 7
80333 Munich
http://www.lodenfrey.eu/men/history.html
Lodenfrey was founded in 1842 by Johann Georg Frey, a young skilled weaver. Frey, at the age of 21, moved to Munich and purchased his first weaving license for 250 gulden, a "Webergerechtsame."
Frey was awarded the first prize at the Vienna trade exhibition for the production of simple and smooth woolen clothes on 10 looms. Frey continued to adapt his methods of production to the needs of the time and thus gained mass recognition.
In 1855 Frey received a gold medal for the world's first water-repellent loden cloth from the World Exhibition in Paris .
In 1862 plans were made for a mechanical spinning mill for sheep wool in a cloth and woolen factory at "Dianabad," in the English Garden of Munich . The location and availability of water-power provided everything needed for the production of loden, the washed and fulled loden left out to dry in the open.
In 1870 the war against France began and a recession was overcome with the help of the Bavarian royal court.
Details were arranged for a new factory in Munich . The popularity of loden cloth has grown internationally with the nobility in Germany and Austria , especially emperor Franz Joseph I (1830-1916), leading the trend. In royal courts, loden cloth is now worn during hunting parties and thus making it court acceptable.
In 1872, the founder's son, Johann Baptist Frey, develops the first truly water-repellent loden cloth called the "napped loden," a cloth that is raised to form a nap and is impregnated. This marks the birth of the loden coat that will ultimately become a classic as it is still to this day.
In 1928 Georg Frey member of the third generation, joins the family enterprise. This same year marks the beginning construction of the "Zugspitzbahn," a rack-railroad leading to Germany 's highest mountain, the "Zugspitze ." The rack-railroad workers wear the loden coats of Lodenfrey to protect themselves against the rough climate. The construction of Lodenfrey's own clothing factory enables the mass production of ready-to-wear loden coats that are later supplied to retailers. Due to an expansive business policy, the Lodenfrey's turnover increases despite an economic crisis on the rise in the early thirties.
The Lodenfrey history during the Nazi years 1933 till 1945 was researched by a professional team of historians.
Lodenfrey conquers the market across the world from 1948 onwards. Lodenfrey opens a branch in the United States and shortly afterwards opens another branch in France . During the fifties, Lodenfrey is exporting respectively to more than 40 countries.
In 1950 Herbert Frey and in 1959 Bernhard Frey enter in the fourth generation into the company. In 1956, a Lodenfrey branch is opened in Bad Ischl in Austria .
In 1964 the construction work begins for a large-scale factory in Bad Ischl. Shortly afterwards, the Austrian branch is one of the most advanced operations of its kind in the world.
Lodenfrey receives the "Comitè du Bon Goût Français" cup, the coveted Oscar of the fashion world in 1968.
In 1977 Lodenfrey opens a factory in Malta .
The company is awarded the City of Munich Fashion Prize in 1979.
Lodenfrey makes a fashion statement in 1983 with its new idea of casual clothes and transforms a tradition into a fashion.
The years between 1991 and 1995 mark a change of generations for the Lodenfrey Company. Dr. Sabine Frey (1991) and Dr. Peter Frey (1995), the fifth generation, take over management and ownership of the company.
In 1995 the new management introduces "Country Frey," a trendy lifestyles collection. Lodenfrey is ready at the turn of the century with the combination of classic functionality and tradition with modern trends.
In 1996 Lodenfrey takes over the traditional Bavarian company "Jakob Zeiler" in Geisenhausen. Zeiler is the ideal supplement to Lodenfrey's traditional loden collection with specialization in the production of high quality leather clothing in a casual, yet traditional dress style.
Lodenfrey built a new developing and logistics centre in Garching near Munich in the year1998.
2003 marks the creation of "Poldi," an exclusive collection created jointly with H.R.H. Prince Leopold of Bavaria .
2005 Lodenfrey is getting into the area of wearable electronics. They also designed "Multimedia Tracht". Now it becomes possible to hear music and to telephone with a Lederhose.
Lodenfrey receives an innovation voucher for the development of a heated loden coat from the Free State of Bavaria in 2010.
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Do Homem / Diniz&Cruz
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Tim Collins Photography and Do Homem / Diniz & Cruz present "The Lisbon Connection."
The Lisbon Connection - Making Of (Short Version) from ZOF on Vimeo.
“JEEVES” was born in Lisbon …
It is with extra enthusiasm that I present also in “Tweedland”, The Lisbon Connection.
Votos às Produções Do Homem / Diniz & Cruz, do Maior Sucesso e Felicidades !
António Sérgio Rosa de Carvalho / JEEVES .
Architectural Historian.
Tim Collins Photography :
“At over 100 years old, DoHomem - Diniz&Cruz is one of the oldest tailors in Lisbon . I loved being in there! Attention to detail was evident everywhere. I was told "We used to dress the poets here, Eça de Queirós and Fernando, and after that we dressed the politicians". "Originally the fabric was brought back from Perrys in London - and it was said that our way of dressing people was a doorway to the world".
One thing that makes this place so special is that one of the tailors working there is currently 87 years old, and he's been working there for 40 years. It was a pleasure to watch Mr Horácio, and the other tailors at work dressing our Lisbon 3, in the finest attire.
Models:
Marco Neto, Nuno Silvailva, Francisco C.
Project Development/Stylist: Sven Signe den Hartogh The Stranded Sailors
Location:
@DoHomem - Diniz&Cruz - Dalmata Lisboa
Clothes and shoes:
DoHomem - Diniz&Cruz - Dalmata Lisboa
Botas D'Ornellas
Stylist: Patrícia Oliveira
Make-up & Hair: Miguel Molena
Make-up assistent: Daniela Homero
Video: ZOF, Creative Film Production (Miguel Marques e Ricardo Figueiredo)”
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Pope Francis says families should put aside their iPhones and Twitter feeds and talk to each other / VÍDEO : Stop Looking At Your Phones ('The Britishes')
"Pope Francis says families should put aside their iPhones and Twitter feeds and talk to each other."
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Maggie Smith at 80: 'a walking, talking flame' / VÍDEO Gosford Park (2001) - Maggie Smith : "It must be hard to know when it's ...
Maggie Smith at 80: 'a walking, talking flame'
Jean Brodie, Hedda Gabler, Downton’s Dowager … Maggie Smith has been a luminous and witty presence in film and theatre for six decades. Tessa Hadley writes about her astonishing career
Tessa Hadley
Friday 23 January 2015 / http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2015/jan/23/maggie-smith-six-decades-actor-stage-screen
If you’re an actor then the physical creature you are – your given physique and face and voice and range of gesture – is your fate, with which your talent must negotiate. No, it’s probably closer even than a negotiation: I suspect your talent arises, as with a dancer, from out of the body you have, and is inseparable from it (so different from the relatively bodiless act of writing). You may have the gift of transforming yourself, but that transformation too can only come out of your bodily repertoire; you have to have it in you. Maggie Smith the actor is all in those dragged-down enormous eyes with their Watteau irony and melancholy, and in the fine-boned long face with its visible play of nerves, so that it seems to change and move even when she’s striking a pose, putting on a look. Her nostrils actually do flare. And when she was younger it was in the lean long body and the angular, clowning wrists and elbows and knees (Watteau again). The whole story of Jean Brodie (1969) is expressed in her nervous long ankles as she kicks away from the pavement on her bicycle in the opening title sequence. Once launched, she sits ludicrously upright on her bike, signalling with a so-straight arm. Smith’s body is wittily intelligent in itself, and all the absurdity and appeal and vulnerability of Jean’s character is expressed before she’s even opened her mouth to speak.
Although, when she did speak, how much she enjoyed the crisp delivery, facial tension and rhetorical flourish of Jean Brodie’s Edinburgh brogue – so much so that it can often be detected in her subsequent roles. (She isn’t always a gifted mimic: her Tennessee Williams sounds shaky in the filmed version of Suddenly Last Summer, 1993, as does her Anglo-Irish in The Last September, 1999.) And you can hear in her voice a twang that might beLondon and might be Oxford : the Smiths moved there from Ilford in 1939, when she wasn’t quite five – her father, a hospital lab technician, was posted to work in the Oxford School of Pathology. At any rate, it isn’t quite a toff’s accent, however many toffs she has played across the decades. She plays them like a petite bourgeois interloper in a toff’s world, performing the upper-class performance. The role, however perfectly felt, doesn’t quite fit skin-tight, it’s always something assumed – like Watteau’s Gilles dressed up in a Pierrot costume.
Just as Gosford Park (2001) worked so well because Robert Altman saw that upper-class universe from outside, through American eyes, making it strange, so Smith’s toffs (in Gosford Park she is Constance, Countess of Trentham) work because she isn’t a natural, she’s always putting it on. She acts these women performing themselves as women. Because she wears their costumes like dressing-up clothes, she wants to fiddle with them, sometimes to great effect – adjusting her scarf against a white chiffon evening dress, she’s the most stylish thing in a tedious film of Neil Simon’s Murder By Death (1976). Sometimes she fiddles to excess, flipping and flouncing her grey fur boa like mad, for instance, in the opening minutes of Shaw’s The Millionairess (1972, a BBC Play of the Month). There’s always a little hysterical distance – of comedy, of desperation – between the actor and the role. When she plays working-class women I don’t think she’s ever quite as good, her scrutiny doesn’t have the same ruthlessness. Laurence Olivier apparently thought Smith was “common” as Desdemona in his more or less unwatchable Othello (1965). But what makes us wince now (along with the makeup, needless to say) is that he is absurdly grand, lost inside his idea of himself in a noble role. Smith’s Desdemona, by comparison, seems luminously truthful.
Smith’s whole life has been her career. Her 80th birthday – and the completion of her sixth decade working as an actor – is celebrated this month by a retrospective at the BFI. She went straight from Oxford high school for girls, which she didn’t like much, to the Oxford Playhouse School of Theatre, and was singled out by excited critics from the beginning. “Miss Smith is a walking, talking flame,” wrote Bernard Levin. “And I swear she never puts foot to ground throughout, but floats a yard above the stage.” In the stories that come down about her frugal, Presbyterian childhood, there’s a whiff of something bleak, with hints of violence – the children were punished hard. He unsympathetic mother didn’t think her daughter had much chance of succeeding as an actor, “with a face like that”. Her father Nat, who later devotedly kept albums of his daughter’s cuttings and memorabilia, seems to have been painfully unfulfilled, and had his own thwarted theatricality. He is supposed, when he retired, to have offered the jottings and pamphlets of his medical researches to the Bodleian, and then, when they were rejected, made a bonfire of them in the garden.
As a little girl, Smith was entranced by a series of children’s books about the theatre, The Swish of the Curtain. The idea of acting fused, at some crucial point in her development, with intimations of possibilities beyond the limited life she knew. She entered into a larger self through acting it out, and then her work became the whole world for her. “A much better world,” she said once to Nancy Banks-Smith. “I’m never shy on stage. Always shy off it … It’s the real world that’s the illusion.
It is notable how many talents in theatre, film and literature, at that moment of exceptional social mobility in the mid-20th-century, came out of the same pinched lower middle-class. A generation reacted against everything meagre, respectable and inhibited in their Victorian- or Edwardian-born parents’ lives, in an explosion of free possibility, opportunity and new politics. And sex, of course. Smith’s private life has had the requisite tormented love story at the heart of it, in the shape of Robert Stephens, who played Teddy Lloyd to her Jean Brodie, Vershinin to her Masha, and Benedick to her Beatrice, and was father to her two sons – Chris Larkin and Toby Stephens, both actors. Stephens was charismatic, irresistible and impossible. It may have been a problem that, although he was a seriously good actor, his success was never quite on the scale of hers. In a happy ending that belongs in a film script, Smith got together then with screenwriter Beverley Cross, who had always been devoted and was still waiting in hope. They were married until his death in 1998.
From the beginning, Smith has worked in both theatre and film, and seems to transfer easily between them. The tension in the sexy, witty physicality of her stage performance carries over into closeups of the expressivity in her face. These two aspects of an acting career are carried forward lopsidedly into posterity: only the film performances are captured and kept, and for the live theatre we have to rely on hearsay and description.
“I like the ephemeral thing about theatre,” she has said, “every performance is like a ghost – it’s there and then it’s gone.” (There are some films of her in theatre, such as the Othello, or TV films-of-a-play such as Tennessee Williams’s Suddenly Last Summer, where she’s a not unpredictably neurotic and smothering mother.) Although they famously didn’t get on, Olivier invited Smith to become part of his new National Theatre soon after he formed it in 1962, where she appeared, among other things, in Chekhov, Strindberg and Much Ado. She is supposed to have been wonderful as Rosalind and Beatrice, Shakespeare’s boyish-girls, which isn’t surprising, considering her leggy androgyny. Peter Hall said she resided “on the cusp of camp”, and she is fairly often tipped the whole way over into it. Kenneth Williams was a lifelong close friend, and he and Smith have the same stiff shoulders, the same yawing slippage up and down the vocal range. She seems to camp up Coward sometimes – it’s difficult perhaps to do much else. And there’s certainly nothing much else to do with Downton.
But at her best Smith is a sharp, smart comedian – it’s not hard to imagine how good she was in the Restoration comedies that were so fashionable in the 60s and 70s, and in Wilde and Shaw. No doubt she brought the cool of a comedian, too, to roles not always imagined as comedy – apparently she made a wonderfully disenchanted Masha in Chekhov’s Three Sisters. And what wouldn’t one give to have seen her in the 1970 London theatre production of Hedda Gabler, directed by Ingmar Bergman, Smith’s own favourite performance. In the photo stills it looks like heady stuff, everything just right for Ibsen’s stark angst – the skinny wrists and gesturing cigarette and tight black dress; the stiff, unhappy bent back; the Munch-scream-shaped white face. There’s not much in film that captures this aspect of her range; interesting to wonder how different Smith’s career might have been if British film of the last 50 years had been less cheerful and parochial and middle-brow – if it had taken itself with anything like the seriousness of Swedish film, with a Bergman exerting his magnetic pull.
When British cinema tries for angst it ends up all too often with empathetic and mawkish – like The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne. And empathy isn’t really how Smith’s acting works: it’s cooler and crisper than, say, the more heartfelt warmth of her contemporary and friend Judi Dench. Dench can usually find something to feel with in the least promising part, whereas Smith is always at her best when the words are good. She was wasted as Lady Naylor in The Last September because the adaptation wasn’t true to the great talk in Elizabeth Bowen’s original novel. She’s good as Lady Trentham because the writing is funny and clever (the script is by Julian Fellowes who writes Downton, but he’s delivering something different for Altman’s film). She’s good with Shaw’s words and Muriel Spark’s, and in A Room With a View, because Ruth Prawer Jhabvala’s rendering of Edwardian oddity and otherness is so note-perfect. Her best performances don’t ask us to identify with what’s most familiar in people, they show us what’s most strange.
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INTERMEZZO / "Remains of the Day" with Hardy Amies .
№ 14 Savile Row
On 12 November 1945; Virginia, the Countess of Jersey (erstwhile Hollywood film star and the first Mrs. Cary Grant), who had been a former client during Hardy’s days at Laschasse, financed Hardy Amies move to Savile Row. The following January, Amies established his own couture fashion house business: Hardy Amies Ltd. Although Savile Row is the home of English bespoke tailoring, the Hardy Amies brand developed to become known for its classic and beautifully tailored clothes for both men and women. Hardy’s business quickly took off in the postwar years when customers, who had been deprived of couture for the preceding years, snapped up his elegant, traditional designs. Hardy was quoted at the times as saying, “A woman's day clothes must look equally good at Salisbury Station as the Ritz bar”. Amies was vice-chairman of the Incorporated Society of London Fashion Designers from 1954 to 56, and chairman from 1959 to 60.
Hardy Amies is located at 14 Savile Row besides Cad & the Dandy.
Amies was successful in business by being able to commercially extract value from his designs, while not replicating his brand to the point of exploitation. Amies was one of the first European designers to venture into the ready-to-wear market when he teamed up with Hepworths in 1959 to design a range of menswear. In 1961, Amies made fashion history by staging the first men's ready-to-wear catwalk shows, at the Savoy Hotel in London . The runway show was a first on many levels as it was both the first time music was played and for the designer to accompany models on the catwalk.
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