Thursday, May 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
[INTRO] In every interview I do, I am always asked 'Where do you get your inspiration' I can honestly say there is no one source, it is continually changing & evolving - and that is the way I like. How dull if you were only inspired by the one thing? .An Unsuspecting Muse is the current collection that is in stores now. I have tried to put into words where my inspiration for this collection came from & have included some photos I have taken in my travels that appear thru out the look book for this collection.....
I am lucky enough to be able to travel the world with my job. This is not something I ever take for granted, I always try to take in as much as possible of the surrounds of my temporary city, and sometimes have to actually ask myself if I am really there experiencing so many cities, because the concept of being able to travel the world, experience cultures I had only read about, see things I had only seen in movies and get paid to do so, just seems so obscenely indulgent.
Inspiration can come to me in so many varied forms... The concept for an entire collection could be conceived from the detailing on a beautiful teacup used in a cafe in Paris; a vintage lamp sitting on the bedside table in a Bungalow Suite at LA’s Chateau Marmont. From a watch that hasn’t worked in years but somehow found its way into a stall at London’s Portobello Road Markets. Other times the inspiration comes from the story behind an item... The artesian who hand cured the design on the teacup, who spent many a night at the Moulin Rouge in the 1940’s. Or the romantic, tragic & mysterious whispers of the happenings that took place behind closed doors at the Chateau in the 1960’s. Or even the memories that the watch holds after having been passed down through multiple generations.
I often find myself looking at things that could be perceived by some as ‘common’ or ‘everyday’. The door handle featured left is a perfect example. The moment I saw this door handle in a boutique hotel I was staying in at Santa Monica, I was mesmerised. Here is a snapshot of what went through my mind when I glimpsed it... The juxtaposition of the metal, so masculine; sharp, defined & an aggressive shape. Reminds me of New York’s Chrysler building. The Chrysler Building. Art Deco. New York. 1930’s... 42nd St... Collection possibilities: we could incorporate blood red jewels, set romantically in vintage metals. Earrings, we’ll do drop earrings, with dark jade & Swarovski crystals which we can match back in a cocktail ring that would stop traffic! ... The exquisite, vintage crystal-esque handle. Beautiful detailing, soft & feminine, glamorous yet not too flashy. The handle reminds me of a chandelier, circa 1940’s. We could take the shapes of old chandelier crystals & modernize the piece by wrapping in metallic chains. The door handle is aged, probably used to open & close the door thousands of times, over many decades. The people that have walked through the door, the things that have happened on the other side of this door. Love; young love, unrequited, lustrous affairs, parting love. The secrets that have been shared & have never left the room. The laughter, the tears, the memories people have of their time there; some would reminisce about it every day, others only once in a blue moon. Guests staying on business, on holiday, staying at the hotel to escape from something, find something or some may have even been staying in this very room with beautiful views of Santa Monica Pier to just... find themselves. All of these people & so many more entered through this door & turned this door handle... And that’s how I saw it. Its beautiful aesthetic inspired me; the colour, the shape, the varied materials, but it goes beyond that. This door handle was ironically the door to so many other things both past & present.
Other than accessory design, photography is one of my other passions in life. I love to look at photographs & I love to take photographs, I am rarely, if ever, without a camera. As much as it saddens me that film has been made redundant with the takeover of digital, it is a blessing in the way of saving space, as I just was running out of room to archive all the photographs I have taken over the years. When travelling, my camera is as important to me as my passport. Where I go, it goes with me. So I photograph objects... Like door handles in my hotel or beautiful windows that bring so much more than light to a room; tiles in underground tube stations or ‘stage door’ entries to an old theatre tucked away in the back alleys of New York City. I am excited to be able to share some of the things that have inspired this collection with you, through a series photographs featured throughout this look book. I have only explained my train of thought on the door handle photograph, the other images I hope will speak to you themselves & you may see a completely different story to what I saw. As with our collections, we design pieces for you to wear how you wish, you cannot define the style of the SW girl & we would never want to. Her style is completely her own, ever evolving & unique, diverse & adventurous. She sees each piece differently to how you or I see it, & that, we believe is the beauty of accessories.
Enjoy the photographs, but more importantly, if you have time, allow yourself to become immersed in what you see in each image & take the journey...
The most beautiful inspiration is often found in the most unusual of places. The Unsuspecting Muse - SW
Thursday, May 6, 2010
[FAR TOP] Vintage brooches at NYC Flea Market
THROUGHOUT the week, it is just one of NYC’s many underground parking lots.
Located on 24th St, between 6th & 7th Ave. As all the cars clear out on a Friday afternoon, no cars are allowed to park in their till the following Monday morning as the underground Parking lot turns into a Vintage flea market called GARAGE MARKETS.
Rugged up like I was embarking on Antarctica, I had read about this market in a NY ‘Things to See’ Guide & made my way underground to check out what the GARAGE had to offer. As I walked down the cement ramp, I could see across the entire market, vintage brooches, cameras with worn leather casings from the 1970s, one gentleman had old newspapers that where yellowing from age, each had a history defining front page , ‘MAN WALKS ON MOON’, ‘JFK SHOT’, 'MARILYN MUNROE FOUND DEAD IN HOME’. It as like an emporium of yesteryear.
As I wandered around the market, I stopped & looked at the different stands, I listened to the conversations being had between customers, between stall holders, bartering & the craziness of all of it put together into a huge cement carpark, usually idle with waiting cars & now alive with people & conversations.
I spent some time looking at a stall that had four large tressel tables, each with ends touching to form a square. Allowing no table space to be seen, the tables where covered with vintage brooches, earrings, necklaces & charms. I circled the stall for about 20 minutes picking up charms to have recast into our jewellery ranges, vintage animal brooches & random coins.
I held out my selection of jewels to the man behind the tables. He was probably in his mid 70’s, had on a grey sloppy joe with an old, worn navy parker over the top. His beanie was like the one Rocky wore when he was running in the snow & as he took the jewellery from me, his hands looked like they had lived a full life, scuffed & scratchy with dirt under his fingers nails.
‘I’ll take these’ I said.
‘Good choice Blondie.’ He said in the most authentic old school New York accent I have ever heard, ‘Where you from?’
‘Australia’ I replied.
“Thought so. I used to be in love with a girl from Australia. She was bew-udiful ,’ He said instantly transported to his affair with the Australian woman. ’God that was a long time ago, must have been the late 50’s, or, wait, maybe it was the early 60’s. She was over here, trying to make it as a singer. ‘ I smiled at him. ‘We were so in love, absolute love of my life, Blondie.’.
‘What was her name?’ I asked.
‘Elaina... or Evette, or was it Evetta...?’ He trailed off trying to recall the love of his lifes name. ‘You remind me a bit of her, she was tall & blonde too.’
I smiled at him, secretly amused at his clear passion for this woman from his past, yet unable to recall her name. “We spent one night together.’ He continued, ‘She was singin’ in a bar I was workin’ in, givin’ me the eye all night from the stage you know?’ as he raised an eyebrow in my direction, I didn’t know, but nodded anyway. ’So when her set was over, she came up to me & said ‘I’m new in town, would love for you to show me around’ I couldn’t believe it, she was like goddess. We walked & I showed her the city. It got to about 4 o’clock in the morning & I asked her where she was staying so I could walk her home. She took my hand & looked up at me & said ‘I’m staying at your place’.
By this stage, He was so transported to that night with Elaina, or Evette or Evetta, that I don’t even think he remembered he was talking out loud. ‘We spent the night together, it was amazing. Best f#%k I have ever had in my life.’ Hoping he had some concept he was still talking out loud & was not going to give me a run down of their bedroom antics, he continued, ‘We fell asleep as the sun was waking the rest of the city up & when I woke around lunch time, she was gone. And that the last I ever heard from her.’ His voice trailed off to silence. There was a pain in his voice of loneliness. Of loneliness then & loneliness now.
‘What’s your name Sir?’ I asked interrupting his trip
down memory lane.
‘Harry’ he said as he handed me the jewels in a crumpled paper bag.
‘Nice to meet you Harry, My name is Samantha.’ I said looking him directly in the eye.
Nice to meet you to Blondie" he said, clearly not one for names.
Hey Harry,’ I said as I started to move to the next table.
‘What is it Blondie?’ he said raising his eyebrows as if he could take or leave what I was about to say.
‘Elaina, Evette, Evetta.. Whatever her name was, to get to spend if only one night with you, she was one lucky gal.’ I looked at him a wry confidence spread across his face. ‘Thanks for the jewels,’ I said as I jiggled the crumpled bag.
‘Your more then welcome Blondie.’ He said with a twinkle in his eye.
I smiled at him as I walked away. - SW