Nurturing, inspirational and full of personality. Those are some of the words that Isabella Blow’s friends repeat the most when talking about her, so it is no surprise that they can also be used to describe the exhibition “Isabella Blow: Fashion Galore!” that has just opened at Somerset House.
The space, curated by Alistair O’Neill and Shonagh Marshall, is a celebration of her life and her vision put together by some of the people who loved her the most. It goes beyond fashion. It is a way of gathering, celebrating and giving back to her, of proving that she still matters and influences the fashion world, six years after she took her own life.
Daphne Guinness bought Isabella Blow’s wardrobe in its entirety in 2010 just after finding out that it was going to be sold at a Christie’s auction. She was refusing to let her confidant’s identity be divided and spread, because she felt that her clothes were her DNA, her life and her art. Later on, together with help from Central Saint Martins and the Isabella Blow Foundation, the project started to take shape. The collection features over a hundred pieces, mostly of talent she had discovered and helped to launch. Because Issy, as her dear ones called her, liked to wear clothes from the people she loved. There are over 90 Alexander McQueen dresses and 50 Philip Treacy hats, surrounded by pieces from Hussein Chalayan, Julien McDonald, Manolo Blahnik and Jun Takahashi, as well as videos and portraits by Mario Testino, Sean Ellis and Karl Lagerfeld.
Everything is styled the way she would have put it together. There are even worn out and damaged pieces, shoes missing heels and burnt hats, which help to create a story. They make the clothes seem real, demonstrate how she lived in them, how they were part of her everyday life. In summary, they capture her essence. There is a sense of eccentricity, humour and wit that is intrinsic Isabella. Because, after all, the exhibition is nothing but a celebration of her persona and life.
Accompanying the showing there is a catalogue shot by Nick Knight which tries to place Isabella and her clothes in the present. We can see her, albeit through models that she never worked with, but that she would have booked if she was still alive.
WeTransfer recently announced that it has broken through the 1.5 million transfers a day milestone and is still growing. Since its formation in October 2010 now have 15 million monthly active users worldwide
WeTransfer was originally set up in 2009 by Bas Beerens and Nalden as a means to save courier costs and to speedily distribute photography, video and other documents. WeTransfer enables anyone to easily send large files, via email or URL, without any complications, lengthy sign-up forms or banner advertising. Bucking the trend of intrusive banner adverts, the company continues to prides itself on the quality, imagery and experience of the service, highlighted though WeTransfer’s long-standing support and involvement with creative communities across the globe.
This technology – the internet and the cloud, particularly - has not only altered what we believe creativity to be but redefined creativity’s barrier to entry. Creativity was once exclusive to people with art school educations and creative agencies but now any kid can learn to code. They have creative production at their fingertips. Technology gives anybody the opportunity to take their creativity from mere ideas to execution.
WeTransfer is a file transfer service first and foremost. It was built to get files from A to B with no hassle, no stress and no charge. But it is much more than that. At its heart is a global exhibition of creative talent. Since the beginning Wetransfer have offered half of their annual advertising itinerary, free of charge, to the creative industries. It is this creativity which underpins the entire business. It is this exciting creative talent which attracts global brands to our advertising platform and makes it such a success. The structure of the site means wetransfer are able to offer this exhibition space to artists and photographers, start-ups and illustrators all over the world. If they were operating in the world of static print this would be impossible. As Nalden explains ‘We simply couldn’t afford it. It is this technology which makes our network and community truly global.’
WeTransfer uses digital ‘wallpaper’ ads to bring the beauty of billboard advertising online. For young creatives as far afield as as Asia and the USA to be exhibited alongside creative leaders such as Nike and Google is a truly exciting thing to see. I doubt the industry could argue with that.
The Face magazine (Hell’s Angels Cover) - no. 77, September 1986
It doesn’t feel a coincidence that the David Bowie exhibition at the Victoria & Albert is being followed by “Club to Catwalk: London Fashion in the 1980s”, a tribute to the underground club scene of the decade which demonstrates the influence it had –and still has– in fashion. Club to Catwalk is all about freedom, expressing yourself through theatricality and, above all, reinvention.
Installation image of From Club to Catwalk: London Fashion in the 1980s
The so-called Blitz kids, who would party in the legendary Blitz club in London after it opened in 1979, would spend most of their week making their outfits and preparing themselves to wow their friends. Steve Strange, the prominent and nightclub host (prior to his success as the lead singer of the band Visage) had the power to let them into the venue. Getting in proved that they looked like somebody –rather than being somebody, which was completely irrelevant back then. Even Mick Jagger got the boot.
At Subway - 1986
Rusty Egan, who was also part of Visage, was DJing inside while the array of art students surrounding him helped to define the New Romantic movement. The elitist crowd that could get in came mainly from St. Martin’s and Central School, due to proximity, and iconic names paraded their extreme, unique and androgynous looks around the club, such as Isabella Blow, Stephen Jones, Boy George, Marilyn and, of course, David Bowie. He even recruited some club regulars, including Strange, to appear in the music video of his number one hit “Ashes to Ashes” (1980).
Trojan and Mark at Taboo - 1986
The truth is that it was as much a catwalk as a dance floor, you were there to be seen and stand out, to tell a story through your looks. As the New Romantic movement expanded, more clubs opened (such as Heaven, Cha-Cha, Taboo, Club for Heroes and Camden Palace), more subcultures emerged (Goth, Fetish and High Camp) and more people joined the party (like Leigh Bowery, Scarlett Cannon and John Galliano, to name a few). London was buzzing with creativity and in 1984 British fashion earned its rightful place on the map with the opening of the first official London Fashion Week.
Sketch for Levi Strauss & Co. denim jacket, ‘BLITZ’ by John Galliano - 1986
Denim jacket, ‘BLITZ’, by Levi Strauss & Co., customised by Vivienne Westwood - 1986
The decade is being celebrated in an exhibition curated by Claire Wilcox, the V&A’s Head of Fashion, which showcases over 85 outfits, including pieces by Betty Jackson, Katharine Hamnett, Wendy Dagworthy, Vivienne Westwood and John Galliano. The vibrancy of London’s club scene is explored through bodysuits, slogans, experimental suits and customised garments that prove that the 80s were more than shoulder pads and leg warmers. It is a homage to the individuality and free spirit of those that reinvented themselves every night and planted the seed to the innovation and revolution of the decades that followed.Not everyone stayed alive in 85, as Hamnett’s emblematic t-shirt said, but there is no doubt that the 80s are still alive.
Silk T-shirt, designed by Katherine Hamnett - 1984
Yet unattainable for most, Haute Couture might be more relevant than ever. And not only because the Autumn-Winter 2013-2014 collections have just been presented. With industrialisation rapidly decreasing in favour of craftsmanship, Parisian ateliers remain a beacon of the French savoir-faire, luxury and attention to detail. This was also one of the key points of the recent exhibition “Paris Haute Couture”.
It all started in 1858, when Charles Frederick Worth, who is considered the Father of Haute Couture, opened Worth and Boberghs, a studio in the Parisian Rue de la Paix. He would create sample dresses and clients had to either attend a fitting or discuss the ideas with him, so that afterwards a team of seamstresses could make up the final piece. By 1873 over 1,200 people worked for Worth and Boberghs and over the next decades many designers copied this concept, such as Poiret in 1903, Chanel in 1915 and Schiaparelli in 1935.
In 1911, the Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture was established, a body that regulates the guidelines of couture and accepts requests from designers and fashion houses to join this elitist and meticulous world. To be part of it, the designs must be made-to-order after at least one fitting, following Worth’s procedure, and the team must be composed of at least 15 full-time artisans. Their magic is presented to the world twice a year in Paris in no less than 35 runs of both daytime and evening wear that still represent today the epitome of luxury, design and craftsmanship.
Last week, the 10 permanent houses that still stand showed their collections in the French capital. This exclusive group is comprised of Christophe Josse, Christian Dior, Alexis Mabille, Giambattista Valli, Chanel, Stéphane Rolland, Atelier Gustavolins, Maison Martin Margiela, Frank Sorbier and Jean Paul Gaultier. They were joined by 5 correspondent members (Versace, Armani Privé, Elie Saab, Valentino and Viktor&Rolf) and 8 guest members (On Aura Tout Vu by Yassen Samouilov and Livia Stoianova, Iris Van Herpen, Julien Fournié, Alexandre Vauthier, Bouchra Jarrar, Yiqing Yin, Rad Hourani and Zuhair Murad).
Maison Martin Margiela 2013
Although the number of houses has dramatically decreased (in 1946 there were 106), the excitement and creativity surrounding haute couture week does not seem to have deflated. Romanticism is always present, especially in shows like Giambattista Valli, who sculpted blooming gardens over transparencies hugging the female body. However, there is a new sense of change and modernity, as reflected in the main topic of the Chanel show: a transition from an Old World into a New World with added touches of science-fiction. The Raf Simons for Dior show was surrounded by an aura of freedom that allowed him to decontextualise couture from Paris. His designs were not only European, but also American, Asian and African, all sharing the same diverse and global catwalk. Margiela continued playing with anonymity and the whole show was a transformation -reutilising fabrics, remaking pieces, restoring garments- explaining how something new and artisan can be created out of vintage.
Gianbattista Valli 2013
More varied, transgressor and probably more difficult to delimit than ever, there is no doubt that couture is the quintessential of fashion.
Youth and innovation, the eternal analogy. When in the late 50s haute couture started to lose its supremacy, it was because the young changed the rules of the game. Street style had made it into couture for the first time, and also for the first time, tables had really turned, putting designers, the youth and avant-garde movements on the same page. This is the starting point for “La moda imposible” (Impossible Fashion), the current exhibition in the Museo del Traje, in Madrid, which showcases the innovation and renovation of the last five decades.
It all started when Mary Quant opened her first boutique, Bazaar, in 1955, feeding the mods and other London subcultures with her easy to mix and match garments, a complete antithesis to couture. Five years later, the new generation of Parisians were all over Yves Saint Laurent’s iconic last collection for Dior, “Beat”, with head to toe black and unorthodox materials. Courrèges, Ungaro, Cardin and Rabanne followed and became the archetype of the Space Age, covering bodies with unthinkable materials such as plastic and metal, transforming the wearers into futuristic warriors ready to fight a war against conventionalism.
Paco Rabanne (1970) short dress made of cut out acetate
Come the 70s, the emphasis was put into meaning and communication, triggered by the emergence of urban subcultures. Some of them followed fashion, while others rejected it and aimed to use textiles and materials as a way of achieving social exclusion. Boutiques like Sex (renamed Seditionaries in 1977), owned by Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood, helped to define the punk movement and share its elements not only with London, but with the world. This was the birth of anti-fashion, with a batch of Japanese designers carrying the flag. Issey Miyake, Yohji Yamamoto and Rei Kawakubo brought a new vision to Europe and the States, based on traditional geometrical proportions, not dictated by gender or body shape, and dusted with a heavy dose of intellectualism. It can be seen in pieces such as a Comme des Garçons parachute-rucksack dress, with a bag at the back “for decorative purposes only”.
Issey Miyake for Bergdorf Goodman (1986)
But if there was an epicentre of cutting edge renovation during this decade, it was Italy, where fashion was equated to art. This was done in the most diverse ways, with brands like Missoni and Fiorucci playing with colour, Roberta di Camerino focusing on the meaning of garments, Pucci experimenting with psychedelia and Capucci and Krizia developing new shapes and materials, to name a few.
It is no paradox then that two Italians were the kings of the 80s, even though each of them stayed on the opposite side of the spectrum. Armani and Versace dictated the major prêt-á-porter trends of the decade elevating it above couture, which was making a comeback thanks to names like Moschino, Lacroix, Gaultier and Mugler. Fashion became plural, readily available for everyone, and made it further than just clothes, inundating films, music, food and a large array of products. Excess in every sense.
Thierry Mugler (1986)velvet follicle of polyamide
This excess was contrasted by the 90s minimalism that planted the seeds for more radical approaches, such as the Antwerp Six, lead by Margiela. Their design was a melting pot of Japanese intellectuality, Italian strategy, British pragmatism and French craftmanship, that can be seen in pieces like an upside down cotton jacket with hooks, by Margiela.
Maison Martin Margiela (1989)
W< (1990) dress in polyethylene terephthalate
From left: Comme des Garçons (1983) - Yohji Yamamoto (1989) - Helmunt Lang (1998)
In the 00s the boundaries continued to diminish as designers persisted to reach the impossible. Technology became part of clothing with the work of Helmut Lang and Chalayan, while Galliano made his own recreation of history, McQueen’s vision provoked extreme reactions and Lagerfeld reinvented Fendi using polyurethane to build their iconic leather jackets.
Saint Laurent Rive Gauche (2001) leather body
With four main sections, Materials, Colours, Structure and Message, the exhibition is an outstanding trip throughout five decades of reaching the unattainable.
La moda imposible (Impossible Fashion) is a temporary exhibition of Museo del Traje that will run in Madrid until the 16th of June.
When Public Enemy released ‘Fear of a Black Planet’, they were, of course, talking race and not a certain point on the colour spectrum. That was just as well, as a scientist might point out - since it doesn’t emit or reflect light on any part of the visible spectrum, like white, black hardly counts as a colour. Black is more, as Leonardo Da Vinci had it, like the absence of colour. But taken figuratively - with all that colour suggests of joy, fullness, vibrancy - it is perhaps no wonder that, as Chuck D accidentally suggested, some people find black more than bleak. They find it upsetting. There is even a term for it: melanophobia - fear of a literal black planet.
Most cultures would appreciate why such a fear exists - by association, black has a symbolic potency that has accrued over millennia. While in Japan black might be associated with honour and nobility, this is an aberration. While many colours may have different meanings, depending on where and when you are - yellow, for example, by turns suggests royalty and light, but also illness and aging - black offers the strongest universal associations of all colours. And black most often speaks ill. The Romans, for example, who rather coveted black ceramics, had two words for the colour - niger and ater - and both of them also meant ‘sad’, ‘ominous’, ‘dreadful’ or ‘malicious’. It’s not so bad if you’re dreaming: in the second century CE the Ancient Greek Artemidorus Daldianus wrote that while black is a symbol of slavery, in a dream it represents only “minor misfortunes”. So dream on.
But black - as an obsessive Queen Victoria made clear for 40 years - is, after all, the colour of mourning, and typically of death. It is more than because a tell-tale sign of infection was black spots on the skin that the bubonic plague of 1348 - which wiped out an estimated half of all Europeans - became known as the Black Death. Or that the occult adopted black as its most potent colour - leading it to become, via mythologies and fairy tales, the shade of choice for witches, vampires, ghouls and trick-or-treaters. The unlucky cat crossing your path? Black, of course.
Black, it seems, is the opposite of white’s wedding day dress virginity - and time and again culture has set the two in opposition. Indeed, in one experiment Enivrance, a company that specialises in new concepts for the food industry, devised a black milk. General repulse indicated just to see how rail-roaded our thinking is by our expectations about colour. Milk, of human kindness of out of udders, should be pure. It should be white.
And it goes deeper still than what we are taught to associate with black. At a fundamentally, primevally human level, black is also the colour of night, the colour of your childhood bedroom when the light goes out, the colour - even moreso, oddly, than the equally blank white - of nothingness and emptiness. Perhaps this is because, as the latest research suggests, 80% of what we assimilate through the senses is visual - and so black the colour of our most potent sense deprived. No wonder it scares the bejeebers out of some of us.
But not so fast, says the Goth, the product designer, the marketing executive and the fashionista. How can it be that a colour so deeply imbued with negative connotations can also be so, well, cool? Or, in other words, be set in an opposition on itself - good black versus bad black - as much as it is set in opposition to white? Could it be that, for every panic-attacked melanophobic, there are more chromophobics sharing society’s extreme if no less illogical prejudice against proper colour, regarding it as essentially infantile (think candyfloss), cosmetic (think rouge), superficial (a hindrance to seeing the ‘truth of form’ beneath, as Aristotle reckoned) and, above all, vulgar or cheap?
Black’s absence of colour may not be down or depressing - as in talk of black moods, black sheep, blackmail or Black Mondays - so much as liberating: the freedom to express one’s personality without the interference of colour. Black may have a message but perhaps it still speaks it more softly - or, appropriately, more obscurely - than, say, hot pink, serene green, flamboyant red, zesty yellow or mystical blue. Or, conversely, maybe it is because black has such dark overtones - literally and figuratively - that it is also the most powerful of colours. When the monolith appears on the Moon in Stanley Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’, it is, of course, a foreboding, impenetrable black. What other colour could the monolithic be? Our earliest images were made in the black, deep inside caves. Millennia on, Caravaggio understood there was no light, or emotion, without shadow.
Black’s presence has clearly been understood when it comes to clothing. It has been recognised by the unlikely company of priests and nuns, in their vestments; bikers, with their black leather jackets; fashion designers - who, for all their insistence on wearing the colour of the season, rarely stray from the dark stuff themselves; country and western singers, as with Johnny Cash’s ‘Man in Black’ persona; and Nazis, whose elite insisted on the blunt menace of black uniforms. Even aliens come dressed in black - one of the most frequently recoded types of alien close encounter is with unusually pale and tall men in black suits claiming to be government employees, their choice of colour presumably aiming at anonymity, the flip-side to black’s stark ostentation.
Certainly black has long been the colour of the ominous power of the state, of the man whose personality is effaced to become a tool of authority, from Mosley’s Black Shirts, to Mussolini and the Gestapo, but long before them too: in the 1560s, Ivan the Terrible of Russia was building his personal guard, the black-clad Oprichniki, or ‘men apart’. Be it real, the executioner, or fictional, like Dracula or the bad cowboy in a western, evil does not wear leaf green or a nice sky blue.
When Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel created a sleeveless, pin-tucked and draped black crep-de-chine dress based on the simple lines of a chemise - austere when dresses were all flamboyant frills, short and comfortable when they were floor-length and disabling and, most notably, dour and mournful when they were wearable rainbows - Vogue declared that it was fashion’s answer to the Ford Model T.
That was a compliment, meant to suggest that the little black dress - dismissed by Elsa Schiparelli as “widow’s weeds” - was a statement of being above or outside of the fleeting whims of fashion (because, darling, classics rarely come in bright colours). But, of course, it was also a nod to Henry Ford’s own, commercial dictim that a customer could have his Model T “painted any colour that he wanted, so long as it’s black” - despite then launching the car in four colour options, none of them black.
Men too have long felt secure in the dark, suggestive as its power is of sobriety and self-control, traditionally masculine traits. Beau Brummell, the 19th century ‘tailor’s dummy’ responsible for killing the flamboyant in men’s dress - for, yes, men of rank and wealth once flaunted it by dressing as colourfully as clowns - stressed that a lack of ornament in fashion placed the emphasis on the serious calling of cut. This “penitential garb of soot”, as Dickens, himself a dandyish fan of black clothing, put it in Little Dorrit, cuts through the flim-flam. It defines. Edward VIII, the Duke of Windsor and men’s style pioneer, insisted that his black-tie dinner dress actually be made in a midnight blue fabric, because, he had observed, in evening or low-light conditions it looked blacker than black. And who would you rather do business with: a bank manager in sharp black suit, or one dressed like a pina colada?
LBD or Reservoir Doggish black two-piece, the colour, or lack of it, is a last line of defence, a sartorial armour against all the challenging moments that life might throw at you. But black goes further and deeper. Red may take the prize for overt sexiness - with its hints of blood flush and primed labia (though how odd, perhaps, that it should then also be the choice of Catholic cardinals) - but black wins on the more understated, mindful, teasing kind - the black of classy lingerie perhaps. “With the common blackbird and even with one of the Birds of Paradise, the males alone are black,” noted Charles Darwin in The Descent of Man. “And there can hardly be a doubt that blackness has a sexually selected character…”
Nature, as Herman Melville noted, “paints like a harlot”, but we prefer to imbue the man-made with finesse, refinement and a sense of correct composure by removing colour altogether, as though colour was a distraction from the quintessence of a thing. Colour matters - the majority of people make an initial assessment of an environment, or even a person, based on its colour; it’s more important than the way a product feels to our assessment of it.
And, it would seem, right now our culture esteems the monochrome more highly, imbuing it with sophistication and contemporaneity. That is not an entirely new idea. When the Spanish court of the 15th century first made black fashionable throughout Europe, it was because the quality and quantity of dye required to achieve a proper, deep black also made the garment hugely expensive. Indeed, before dyeing techniques improved in the 14th century, black was considered an ugly colour in stylish circles, strictly for the peasantry. The advent of printing helped too, re-imagining the gaudily illuminated page seen by the few as the black on white one seen by the many more - books opened up a more intensely personal black and white world in parallel to the full spectrum all around.
Six centuries of appreciation on, we regard black’s minimalism as somehow the hard pinnacle of civilisation, even if our history is weak - minimalism originally embraced the commercial colours of pop art, just as those classical Greek statues were once arrayed in dazzling hues. Black, for instance, is the best-selling colour for prestige cars, because it speaks of luxury, and even of prestige cows - the livestock industry will pay more for black-hide cattle than any other, regardless of the fact that it has no bearing on the meat and the bon viveur will remain blissfully unaware when sat before his steak.
Similarly, the bubblegum iMac has given way to the black iPhone or iBook, with glossy ‘piano black’ currently the electronics industry’s go-to choice when seeking to package its products as premium ones - the dream bachelor pad is all black leather, high-shine lacquer and hi-fi. Black and white photography and film aspire to art and high drama, trashy, flashy colour only to the disposable Kodak moment, musicals or fantasies - in fact, when Technicolor, the first ‘natural’ photographic colour system to be commercially successful, was introduced to cinema in the late 1920s, still it took four decades to eliminate black-and-white, so deeply ingrained was the association between colour and spectacle and the absence of colour with narrative. Black even suggests permanence or the heft of quality: faced with two identical boxes, one white, one black, most people will make the assumption that the black one is heavier.
No, black cannot be ignored, despite - or rather, perhaps, because of - its conflicting attributes. The polarity that black expresses - on the one hand the gloomy, on the other, the potent - is as stark as that between black and white, its age-old nemesis. Is any colour quite so ambivalent, while also being so absolutely sure? Is any colour so loaded with association with all that is important in human society? Is any colour so chillingly, thrillingly visceral, so magical as black?
The photo documentary “Tokyo Girls” captures thirty young girls from all over the world, united in Japan to perform striptease. To fully capture the bizarre reality of multicultural striptease, Nathalie Daoust displays each woman through Lenticular technology. The Lenticular prints make the images appear animated: as the viewer moves around the gallery, the women dance, vamp and primp, caught in a perpetual loop of seduction and solicitation.
Nathalie Daoust’s project, Tokyo Hotel story, continues her exploration of female sexuality and subversion of gender stereotypes. Spending several months in the Alpha In, one of the biggest S&M “love Hotels” in Japan. Daoust photographed 39 women in their private rooms, surrounded by the specialist equipment and dressed in the regalia that define their trade. Her work takes the viewer beyond taboos while showing the universal human desire to escape reality and create fantasy worlds that often oscillate between dream, reality and perversion.
Fashion show of Kaffe’s 1st collection designed for MISSONI
“Life enhancing”. Those are the words that Kaffe Fassett repeats the most during the interview. And it does not come as a surprise since the knitwear designer is extremely devoted to enhancing his and our lives through the use of colour.
His passion began on a train ride back from Scotland where he was taught how to knit by a stranger. Then came his first design, that graced the glossy pages of Vogue, at a time when, in his own words, “the industry was more adventurous than it is now” and he was “very free and loose”. He was encouraged by his friend, the then art director Barney Wan, whose team would send the garments to big photographers such as David Bailey.
In 1969 the Missonis contacted him and invited him to work with them. I naively ask if they made him stick to certain assignments or let him improvise, and he bursts out laughing saying “Darling! It’s me! They had to let me improvise!”, which really summarises his free creative approach. He lovingly describes the tones he first worked with, sophisticated plums and blacks, and how he created Biblical stripes that then made it into jersey dresses. After that he thought of the colour grey while talking with Rosita Missoni and they came up with a grey collection inspired by a book he had seen about Afghanistan. He was very prolific and provided them with many designs before moving on.
Kaffe’s early design for MISSONI
Since then he has designed ballet outfits, gardens and theatre costumes and sets, as well as travelled the world teaching in knitting and patchwork workshops. He gets emotional remembering his first big scale piece, a huge quilt hanging from a tower in Holland and how “the colours melted with the bricks of the tower”. This is his new ambition: going big.
But if something really triggers his emotions, it is proving how life enhancing colours are. In dark times, like the current economic situation, we could do with some Fassett therapy. As he has observed, the most colourful places in the world are usually incredibly poverty-stricken, so if they can “put on magenta, yellow, sky blue and step out into the world making everybody else feel good”, why can we not do the same?
Kaffe’s first ever knitted design
His next exhibition, “Kaffe Fassett - A Life in Colour”, will run from the 22nd of March until the 29th of June in the Fashion and Textile Museum, London.