I swear the spirit of Carine Roitfeld must be haunting me…. or, at least, her legacy as a stylist before becoming renowned fashion editor at French Vogue.  Awhile ago, I was browsing photographer’s Mario Testino’s über-cool site, going through his archives. I came across his shoot he did for the Calvin Klein Spring 1999 campaign featuring the one and only Kate Moss. (Ms. Moss’ brooding  male counterpart, by the way, is Mr. Colin Branca, who still works in the industry.)  Shortly therefafter, I learned, via the Fashion Spot, that the stylist was none other than Ms. Roitfeld herself. So not only did Ms. Roitfeld shaped my style consciousness via the triumvirate she formed with Testino and Tom Ford in the Gucci era–you can catch the earlier meditation on their work here–but she also influenced me stateside through the architectonic designs of the one and only Mr. Klein.

While an advertising campaign may seem as irrelevant for some, these Testino-Roitfeld images jumpstarted my memory…  though not exactly in a Proustian way. When Proust took a bite of the madeleine, as he recounts in Du côté de chez Swann, he remembered his youth in Cambray, the warm cup of herbal tea.  In contrast, I don’t ever remember seeing  seeing this campaign. But somehow, they capture the spirit of that era, the end of the nineties right before the new millenium and the end of the proverbial party in 2001. I was a sophomore in New York the year that this campaign was put together and released. For me, this  campaign captures what was the epitome of style for me. A bare white room… simple but just so chic clothes… even the chop of Kate’s hair. As a historical document, the campaign succinctly captures a particular fin-de-siècle aesthetic in a minimalist mode. Personally, it’s almost like discovering a photograph from a decade ago that I somehow recognize though I don’t remember ever having taken it.

Interestingly enough, Testino captures what video couldn’t catch. I had already seen this collection awhile ago, via YouTube. All that’s conveyed is a minimalist aesthetic, conveyed in a broad palette of colors. Yes, there’s the music of the era–Massive Attack amongst others–and the stoic expressions of the models. But the distinctive edge that Testino conveys so well just isn’t there. Reduced to a digital feed-perhaps akin to the archival films of yesteryear-the fine details have been lost, and with it, the ephemeral essence of the era.

Moreover, this campaign, under the direction of Testino and Roitfeld, reminded me what I had originally gleaned from the end of the nineties and has remained with me ever since.  No controversy, no fuss, no overt theatrics. Simple but sensual with a razor sharp edge, like that of a finely tailored garment fitted to the body or  carefully sheered locks of hair against the clarity of white.

I’m sure I had heard the name Carine Roitfeld before. I’ve read French Vogue, which Ms. Roitfeld has edited since 2001. But honestly, two years in graduate school (much of which was spent thinking about past centuries forgotten by most) is enough to interrupt anyone’s connection to the outside world. So here’s the photo that brought Carine Roitfeld back to my awareness, glamorous but defintitely enjoying the the Purple magazine party at the Boom Boom Room in New York City (Source).

Now that I am back in the real world and have had a chance to reconnect with the reality I’ve missed for two years, I must say that I’ve become quickly enamored of Ms. Roitfeld. As the name of the site IWantToBeARoitfeld.com suggests, perhaps I am not alone in my admiration. I was particularly amused by the site’s recent posting that the New York  Post has labeled Carine In and American Vogue’s Anna Wintour Out, but I’m sure that many would rather spend an evening out with Carine than with her American counterpart.

But what makes me so fond of Carine Roitfeld ? Her past explains enough for me. Before taking on French Vogue, Carine was a leading stylist best known for her work with photographer Mario Testino and designer Tom Ford. Jess Cartner-Morley summed it up best in the Guardian :

She made her name as one part of a glorious trio, alongside Tom Ford and Mario Testino, who together created a decadent aura of sexual allure around the Gucci brand in the 1990s. Ford designed the clothes, Roitfeld styled how the models wore them, Testino took the photos – the Gucci they created together tapped into a look everyone wanted a piece of. (Source )

Without me knowing at the time, Carine was creating those iconic images that would influence my aesthetic taste. I can’t help but look back at the images from the nineties and think that they are the epitome of cool, or at least of a certain kind. And Carine was at the nexus of the cool. She told the Guardian :

Gucci was totally in my image,” she says simply. “Tom used me as – how do you say? – his female half. He would design clothes, and then ask me how I would wear them. [...] That’s what is important in a picture sometimes: the way you roll up the sleeves of a shirt, the way you handle a bag, the way you cross your legs, these can make the biggest difference.” (Source )

That sense of personal style and confidence is what it’s all about, transcending merely turning oneself into a billboard of consumer consumption by showing off labels. (See what Carine thinks of that obsession here.) Of course, a fashion editor would never outright say that one doesn’t need to be wearing the brands that buy advertising, pages, but isn’t classic French style based upon not what you’re wearing  but how you’re wearing it? Just as one of my professors once commented about literature, tout est dans le style – everything is in the style.

For more of the Roitfeld exprience, check out the recent CNN documentary from 2009 :

Here are some additional articles:

• “Anti-Anna” from New York magazine replete with veiled criticisms in the mag’s typical style.
• An éloge from Hedi Slimane, former Yves Saint Laurent and Dior designer

Brazil has long inhabited its own corner, specially reserved in my imagination, right between powdery, pristine beaches and the perfect 4 am party.  The country’s relaxed sensuality and sophistication has always seemed so mystically familiar, though it’s a place that I’ve never managed to get to… despite years of listening to bossa nova and Brazilian electronica, downing caipirinhas on two continents, and simple daydreaming.

My web wanderings this week led me to Brazil twice. The first time was through one of those great “36 Hours In…” articles from the New York Times, circa 2007. The story was all about São Paulo. Two stunning photos (seen above) caught me by surprise. The first is on top of a totally groovy Paulista hotel, photographed against the city skyline; the other is simply the Brazilian manifestation of my dream coffee house.

The second web adventure, thanks to Made in Brazil blog, led us to photographer’s new book from Taschen, MaRIO DE JANEIRO Testino. Unhibited and sensual. While I don’t share the photographer’s penchant for youth, some of those capture the Carioca vibe. The book is available directly from Taschen ($39.95), and you can (web)browse the book before. (Akahele… FYI, this one is not for the kids, but of course, not all artistic things should be G-Rated.)

Of course, it may seem odd to some to be dreaming of Brazil while living in Hawai’i. But personally speaking, there seems to be a sense of freedom, liberation, and sensuality in Brazil that has been all too often stifled on our own shores, whether it be aesthetically, morally,  or socially. And let me add, I know my ancestors centuries ago were not ashamed of the beauty of the human body and the joy of human relationships… prior to the arrival of a certain group of puritans in the 19th century. After all, sometimes, you need to travel elsewhere—even just mentally, just through a few photos–to see what you are missing or have forgotten to embrace at home. So dreaming of Brazil has reminded me to go outside and enjoy the sun and the Moaʻe, the gracious tradewinds that have returned after a steamy week of vog, and shed some of those stuffy inhibitions that periodically manage to close in and block out the light.