Marc Jacobs nooooooooooo. Why are you picking those Russian faux-lesbians from t.A.T.u. for the face of your new fall line? It doesn't make any sense. Fine, they may be as obsessed about their outward appearance as you, but it's way too late to cash in on their 15 minutes, and way too early to try and make an ironic comeback statement. The reason you sign somebody on the matrix of celebrity is to generate buzz, not because you actually find them inspiring. Sigh. Below, "behind-the-scenes" of Jacobs' new blah-spiration: CONTINUED »
Marc Jacobs, the reborn Louis Vuitton designer who has a thing for playboys and press, is a perfect fit in Provincetown, Mass., the East Coast's gay mecca where he has opened a store. "As you can imagine, when Marc by Marc opened last summer, some Ptown regulars grumbled that it was too snooty for this salty, sexy town and would dilute the charming local flavor. But anyone with a speck of taste would choose the place any day over that irritating Black Dog store down the street." [NYT]
Because nobody else will. The designer's ad campaign with fembot Victoria Beckham was praised, by Vogue, as being "brave" for allowing Ms. Beckham, somebody so controlling of her image, to step into a giant shopping bag while being photographed. Eh, says the Daily Mail's Liz Jones: "Hmmm. To me, these pictures sum up exactly what is so very wrong about 'high' fashion. A small group of people - stylists, photographers, hairdressers, make-up artists, designers - are, I've come to the conclusion, having a great deal of fun, and making a great deal of money at our expense. These people do a very skilled and persuasive job: they bully us into buying more stuff."
In a new Marc Jacobs ad. In unrelated news, Victoria Beckham will not be appearing in the designer's ad campaign for next season. CONTINUED »
Marc Jacobs is so fond of his new body that he's can't help but being linked to more than one guy and spending "most of his time partying until morning in Paris." [P6]
At a Live Out Loud charity event the other night, hosted by Xanadu's Cheyenne Jackson, we ran into designer and Central Park jogger Thom Browne, who was co-hosting the evening, and asked him why, for a fashion guy who's so clearly smoking hot, he hadn't transformed himself into the alternative Marc Jacobs — the Marc Jacobs who obsessively flaunts his David Barton body in the pages of many a magazine.
How come, we prompted Browne, he wasn't out there showing himself off? "Because nobody's asked me!" he replied. Shame!
We half-joked that we were going to call a men's magazine editor and lobby him to commission a Browne spread. Browne coyly said he'd do it if the opportunity arose. Funny, then, that one of the rumors we heard at last night's National Magazine Awards was that a major glossy might be working on something of that very nature.
While Victoria Beckham may star in his ad campaigns, Marc Jacobs isn't one to shy away from the photographers. Whether posing nearly nude for Out or stripping down for Arena, the Louis Vuitton and namesake fashion designer has taken great pride in his post-rehab body.
His latest exposure arrives in GQ's May issue, in the article "Marc Jacobs Doesn't Give a F***," where he describes the allure of eating healthy and staying fit.
So how does he maintain his new regimen?
Easy. Literally, Easy. CONTINUED »
Brooklyn brings out the best in Anna Wintour. We’ve never seen the Vogue editrix look as happy as she did with Marc Jacobs at the Brooklyn Museum’s launch of their Murakami retrospective. We can’t help but wonder what Wintour’s doing with her other hand. Something perverted, probably.
Marc Jacobs sacked boyfriend Jason Preston, but the designer may not be completely over the former rent boy.
Jacobs and his new beau, Austin A, recently flew to Los Angeles, where Jacobs picked up another pal, a Preston lookalike. The arrangement proved to be volatile.
No, this is not an actual Marc Jacobs ad, but it has been captivating audiences like any breath, step, or blink Jacobs performs for his loyal legions. Making its way around the WWW, the ad is actually a creation from Thomas Larsso at creative agency Hart+Larsson. It's also much tamer than those fake Puma ads of lore. CONTINUED »
Glamour's bloggers aren't the only ones getting themselves into trouble with their words. Over at Domino, "Girl About Town" Rita Konig is overjoyed hair salon Jason Croy got the boot from its West 4th/Bank St. location – where rent increased from $15k to $35k/month – to allow yet another Marc Jacobs to pop up. "Some are getting their knickers in a bit of a twist about it because he has so many shops already, and the little hairdressers that was there before…..blah blah blah, yeah yeah yeah," writes Konig (via). "So the bad hairdresser has gone and a troupe of young, charming and hilarious people have arrived all working in Marc's shop selling things one might want rather than a bad Hilary Clinton hairdo."
Her readers aren't thrilled. "I love reading your blog posts, but this one does seem particularly mean spirited and misguided," writes one. Says another: "I thought the tone of that entry was a bit snooty and mean-spirited. I am sure the Marc Jacobs store is fun and the salespeople fashionable and friendly, but it isn't necessary to make the salon that left sound like a tired old place where ladies go for their blow-dried bouffants. That was someone's business, where they put their heart and soul, and to dismiss it without thought–and with malice–is not kind."
Sure, but Konig loves her special magazine discount at Jacobs more! Alleges one commenter: "I know you have to blow Marc Jacobs at every opportunity, given all the swag he undoubtedly sends your way, but is there really a need to take such a cheap and baseless shot at Jason Croy, owner of the salon you're sooo happy to see go? You obviously never set foot in the place before you sent an assistant to the MJ opening party to score a goody bag, the contents of which you had her sell for you on e-Bay, but Rashida Jones used to drop by Jason Croy and I haven't seen her sporting a HRC 'do lately.
Speaking of bad hair (and honestly, aren't references to Hillary's as tired as a Stella bag by now?), you might want to think about updating your head shot. That whole chemical-weaponed-blond-with-the-black-eyebrows look died with Madonna's Sex book." SNAP!
Marc Jacobs is having a big week. First, he's showing his fall collection on Friday, so, ooooh!. (Try getting into that one.) Second, he's rumored to be taking public, at the show, his three-way romance – bear with us – with long-time boyfriend Jason Preston and porn star Erik Rhodes. (Rhodes says they're not dating, but he will be attending the show. As a friend. And Friday just happens to be his 26th birthday.)
And third, well, is that little matter of extortion.
In order to use the 69th Regiment Armory, on 26th Street, to show each season, Jacobs allegedly had to pay off the armory's superintendent, James Jackson, some $40,000 in cash and gifts, including a Bowflex machine. In return, Jackson, who was arraigned on extortion charges yesterday, assured Jacobs the date he needed, early access to the venue, and a breezy paperwork process.
Now New York attorney general Andrew Cuomo is on the case, upset that anyone would ever feel required to pay off a public official to use public space.
Other designers, meanwhile, aren't exactly empathizing with Jacobs. While his payments may have been forced, they may have also secured him exclusive access to the armory during Fashion Week, preventing any other designers from showing there. That doesn't really elicit sympathy.
Marc Jacobs' annual costume party proved to be both entertaining and informative this year! The Arab-themed bash taught us that not even models/fashionistas can pull off nipple tassels and confirmed rampant speculation that the host (above, dressed as "Camel Toe") is, in a fact, a vagina. [NSFW images via Mollygood]
The highlight of the New York Times article entitled "Loving and Hating Marc Jacobs" is potentially the designer's candid (cough) revelation that he's nothing but a good, old-fashioned attention whore. "In the most basic way I can say it,” he said, relighting a cigarette, “coming from a psychological place, what I love more than anything is attention. That is about as honest of a statement that I could possibly make. I want a reaction, because I want the attention.”
Naturally, this deeply personal confessional comes directly after the Jacobs' insistence that he's being maligned by the "bitter and jealous" detractors and (unfairly!) depicted in the press as an narcissistic egoist whose growing obsession with his own public perception—combined with his meteoric rise to fame—has turned him into a poorly reconstructed (or in his case, expertly nip/tucked) version of his former self.
Editorial Director
