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Directors Gia Coppola, Peter Marcias, Susanna Nicchiarelli hosted at Corradi Cinema Lounge at Venezia

Filed by Lucire staff/September 6, 2020/23.03




Iosip Mihail

The Corradi Cinema Lounge at the 77ª Mostra internazionale d’arte cinematografica di Venezia, the Venice Film Festival played host to Gia Coppola, niece of Francis Ford Coppola, and Romola Garai and Susanna Nicchiarelli (Miss Marx) on day five.
   Coppola directs Mainstream, which she calls a ‘satirical fable’ about young Angelinos who aim to create viral content on YouTube, with parallels to earlier films such as Network.
   Director Peter Marcias (Nilde Lotti, the Time of Women), film critic Nick Vivarelli, and Brazilian singer–songwriter Caetano Veloso (Narciso Em Fèrias) also had stints at the Lounge.


Iosip Mihail

 


New Zealand labels Ketz-ke and By Mishco show off designer masks

Filed by Lucire staff/August 31, 2020/23.12


Top and above: By Mishco’s limited-edition masks have proven to be strong sellers. Below left: Ketz-ke’s bold mask designs.

New Zealand label Ketz-ke, featured in Lucire KSA’s September 2020 issue, has, like numerous other fashion labels, created designer masks. Masks—as predicted in Victoria Whisker’s recent story—have become a fashion item, and Ketz-ke’s more than qualify, with their bold designs. They’re retailing at three for NZ$36·50.
   They’re not alone. A new label set up in August reached a milestone when it sold 50 limited-edition masks per hour. By Mishco, founded by Ayla Bligh, set up to provide work for six women made redundant or suffered reduced hours because of COVID-19, sold out of its limited-edition lines within a week.
   Bligh referred to recent statistics that revealed that over 90 per cent of the 11,000 redundancies in New Zealand during the second quarter of 2020 were faced by women. It was her aim to empower women and keeping production local.
   By Mishco has scaled up production of its cotton–linen blend masks to meet demand, and is launching a line of children’s masks. Locals can collect using contactless methods. The company sold through a Facebook group called Chooice and more information can be found at bymishco.co.nz.

 


Putting the brakes on fast fashion

Filed by Jack Yan/August 15, 2020/9.10

Lucire is UN Environment’s first fashion industry partner.

Abigail Beall’s statistics in a recent BBC report about clothing recycling make sobering reading. She writes, ‘Around 85% of all textiles thrown away in the US—roughly 13 million tonnes in 2017—are either dumped into landfill or burned. The average American has been estimated to throw away around 37kg of clothes every year. And globally, an estimated 92 million tonnes of textiles waste is created each year and the equivalent to a rubbish truck full of clothes ends up on landfill sites every second.’ Her other statistics show that only 12 per cent of the material for clothing gets recycled, and that the fashion industry is responsible for 10 per cent of all greenhouse gas emissions and 20 per cent of global waste water.
   Meanwhile, on the consumer end, our need for gratification (at least in the UK) has seen us buy 60 per cent more clothing than we did 15 years ago, and no one wants to wait six months after seeing something on the catwalk.
   Beall says that recycling is difficult because while there may be one dominant material, such as cotton, threads and labels are made from other materials. Jeans are usually made of cotton yarn blended with elastane. This makes them all difficult to recycle, and sorting textiles into different fibres is still usually done manually. Techniques to chemically separate blends without losing either natural or synthetic fibres are not yet scalable.
   And what’s donated to charity shops is now of poor quality, with most reaching Oxfam’s Wastesaver plant unsellable, and six tonnes a week are torn up to be used as cloths or stuffing.
   Many fashion labels are recognizing these difficulties, especially as consumers realize the harm the industry is causing the environment. Some have been choosing recycled materials, including ocean plastics that have been turned into new materials in clothes and shoes—over the years Lucire has devoted plenty of space to these. Others are inventing new, sustainable materials.
   There is some hope that the lockdowns that various countries have had to endure during the COVID-19 crisis might wake populations up to the preciousness of the environment. Many enjoyed watching nature return, something covered in an earlier issue of Lucire KSA. And, with many now opting to work from home—and companies adjusting to the new reality of allowing staff to work remotely—the need to dress up for the office has diminished. Casual clothes are very much the norm in many societies now. In such cases, people might not be quite as willing to push for the latest in attire if it isn’t going to be seen in public, and only in the virtual world. Might we embrace quality over novelty once more?
   Beall shows that the rise in consumption is a relatively recent phenomenon, something within living memory for most consumers. It can only be a good thing for the planet if we reduced our clothing consumption to the levels they were at 15 years ago, and even then labels were making money in the clothing business.
   We weren’t so obsessed with fast fashion, and while retailers like H&M and Zara were making headway around the world with cheaply made garments, there were still enough consumers happy to pay more for quality. Until 2004 there was a difference, too: high-end designer style hadn’t been democratized, not until Karl Lagerfeld began the first of many designer collaborations with H&M, giving rise to what this magazine called ‘accessible luxury’.
   We also weren’t as obsessed with the new. When Lucire was first established, some fashion labels were deeply wary of allowing online media to cover their catwalk shows. They were scared of counterfeiters: the sooner they could see something, the sooner the knock-offs would appear. The designers were used to having the advantage, and old media were willing to comply. Lucire, for its part, never ran the catwalk stories live: internet connections weren’t that great then, and neither was digital photography. By the time the film and prints got to New Zealand, and everything was manually laid out, there was a delay. But as coverage democratized, and as designers themselves delighted in showing every­thing live, often to “influencers” who beamed the shows instantaneously via social media, consumer demands also shifted. In an Instagramming generation, being seen with the latest is more vital than before—yet, again, one hopes that the perspective we’ve gained with the pandemic will put the brakes on that.
   We’re not exactly in Luddite position or pining for a return to the past. We’re excited about the innovations, such as Bionic, a polyester made from recycled shoreline waste that H&M, recognizing the shift, has promoted [Natalia Vodianova modelled one such dress three years ago, shown at top]; and the new sustainable materials that our clothes could be made from. But we would like to see the end of the race to the bottom which fast fashion and the insistence on novelty have driven, where garment workers are paid less and less to satisfy the profits of some brands and the appetites of some consumers.
   If we value good design, ethical sourcing and quality over novelty and low prices, then we may be able to reverse some of these frightening statistics. It might even be unfashionable, as the pandemic affects certain countries worse than others, to flaunt the fact you’ve been able to head out shopping (real or virtual) to get the newest. Influencers will need to find something else to promote.
   Even filmmakers are sensing it. The Michael Winterbottom-directed Steve Coogan–Isla Fisher comedy, Greed [covered earlier in Lucire], is a satirical tale about a thinly disguised version of Sir Philip Green, the head of Arcadia Group, who stood accused by British government committees of plundering British Home Stores while under his company’s control. Sir Philip also did not escape criticism in this magazine.
   Coogan plays Sir Richard ‘Greedy’ McCreadie, who spends his adult life pushing suppliers in Sri Lanka (with India standing in for the country in the film) into a race to the bottom. The last act wraps up the film neatly: namely that for all the lessons that we might have learned, the fictional McGready family ticks on, little changed. No, the outcome isn’t funny, but it is a call to action—it’s Winterbottom exercising pathos. Showing statistics about fast fashion, the income gap, and the single-digit earnings of Asian garment workers takes that one step further. Are we choosing to fund these lifestyles and the fast-fashion machine, or should we opt for the sort of designers often championed by this magazine, who work with Fair Trade, eschew seasons, and emphasize quality?
   With such a film part of our 2019–20 Zeitgeist, then it appears that we should call time on the excesses the industry has created, opening the door to those independent designers, many of whom have appeared in this magazine, who invest heart, creativity, and time to make quality fare.—Jack Yan, Publisher

 


The Body Shop and Wā Collective help get period products to Kiwis in need

Filed by Lucire staff/July 20, 2020/10.23


The Body Shop is teaming up with Wā Collective to provide free, medical-grade silicone period cups to people and schools in need in New Zealand.
   The New Zealand Government is already tackling period poverty by providing free menstrual products in select Waikato schools, but, as the Body Shop points out, this is only as starting-point and the only products available are tampons and pads.
   The Body Shop supports the use of period cups for environmental reasons, among others: each lasts 10 years, reducing waste going to landfill, and can save the individual a considerable amount of money.
   Currently one in three menstruating students have had to skip class because they do not have access to menstrual products.
   As Wā Collective founder Olie Body points out, ‘Nobody should miss out because of being born with a mighty pair of ovaries.’
   Wā Collective has established women’s health collectives and other contacts to help with distribution.
   It estimates that through its work, it has prevented 2·4 million disposable products going to landfill over the past year, saving people NZ$800,000.
   The campaign will go live in 25 Body Shop stores around New Zealand from August 4.
   Customers can support the initiative by purchasing items from Wā Collective (www.wacollective.org.nz), using the code BODYSHOP for free shipping, or simply donating at any of the Body Shop’s stores nationwide or online at www.thebodyshop.co.nz. Each Wā cup sold subsidizes another for someone in Aotearoa.

 


Letter from Venezia, July 2020

Filed by Lucire staff/July 15, 2020/12.49





Stanley Moss

The experienced traveller returning today will discover the Venice of 40 years ago.
   It is amazing, starting with uncrowded passageways, the ability to navigate the streets to admire the architecture, and it’s quiet. The droves of Asian visitors have disappeared, nor does one find Americans. Mainly we encounter German tourists, a few French, but mostly Italian speakers. It’s obvious that the rest of the world has shut down. Many of the stores remain shuttered.
   Today I visited the fish market at Rialto Mercato, found Argentine shrimps; went to the produce stand, got a bag of those amazing Sicilian tomatoes; visited the cheese store and got a hunk of Reggiano, some meaty Cerignola olives; and stopped by the coffee store for fresh ground Etiopiano. I went by Rizzardini’s pastry shop and splurged on a pallet of eight pieces to take home.
   I have no problem finding an open table with an unobstructed view, manned by an agreeable waiter, one simply happy to see business reappear. I take out my little watercolour kit, colours, brushes, my postcard-sized pad, order a drink, sketch, then paint at my own pace.
   The weather has turned perfect, and it gets dark around 9 p.m. Venice is the ideal city for getting lost. I’ve been here more times than I can count, but the coolest thing today is the ability to meander down dead-end passages and have to double back on my own steps. It’s too empty to navigate Venice the old way, stop and go, bumping into shoulders, walking downwind of cigarettes, craning one’s neck for landmarks. That Venice has disappeared, and the days of yore are thankfully returned.—Stanley Moss, Travel Editor








Stanley Moss

 


Greed a topical comedy about fast fashion and the practices that support it

Filed by Jack Yan/June 28, 2020/12.01

Greed, the new Steve Coogan comedy directed by Michael Winterbottom (The Trip), is a satirical tale about a thinly disguised version of Sir Philip Green, the head of Arcadia Group, who stood accused by various British government committees of plundering British Home Stores while it was under his company’s control. The phrase levelled at Sir Philip, ‘the unacceptable face of capitalism’, once dealt to Tiny Rowland, is used here at Coogan’s Sir Richard ‘Greedy’ McCreadie, just in case you weren’t sure whom they were parodying.
   Lucire attended one viewing at a packed cinema, where moviegoers were turned away as it proved to be far more popular than anticipated.
   Given the cast—Coogan, Isla Fisher, and David Mitchell—it would be wrong to expect much more than a comedy, and on this count, it delivers, with more topical panache than most films of the genre.
   Up for criticism by the film are fast fashion—McCreadie spends his adult life pushing suppliers in Sri Lanka (the Indian locations are unconvincing) into a race to the bottom—as well as the shallow “unreality” of reality TV, or, as the trade calls it, unscripted drama. Included in the mix are the corrupt practices of modern business and their legal loopholes, and tax havens such as Monaco, where McCreadie’s ex-wife, Samantha, played by Fisher, is resident. Through all of this is the device of the officious bystander, Sir Richard’s biographer, Nick, played by Mitchell, who gets to interview certain parties, which Winterbottom shoots in documentary style.
   Sir Richard’s 60th birthday bash on Mykonos obviously references Sir Philip’s £5 million 50th on Crete in 2002, right down to the togas, and this is where things take a turn that not even Sir Philip’s enemies would wish on the milliardaire. Asa Butterfield, as the McCreadys’ younger son, and Dinita Gohil, as Amanda, a Sri Lankan-born Brit working for McCready, give the film more depth at the points where it’s needed, showing that the farce in which the ultra-rich live have real victims, inside and outside of the immediate family. Whovians will spot Pearl Mackie as Cathy, the director of the reality show in which daughter Lily McCready, played by Sophie Cookson, stars, trying the Method whilst playing herself.
   There’s a sense from earlier reviews—inevitable that we would have seen them given New Zealand’s later release—that the film doesn’t know what genre it is, whether it’s comedy, drama or documentary, an assessment with which we disagree. While the film puts a new spin on the term ‘eat the rich’, the last act wraps up the entirety of the film neatly: namely that for all the lessons that we might have learned, the fictional McGready family ticks on, with little changed. No, the outcome isn’t funny, but it is a call to action—it’s Winterbottom exercising pathos. Showing statistics about fast fashion, the income gap, and the single-digit earnings of Asian garment workers takes that one step further. Are we choosing to fund these lifestyles and the fast-fashion machine, or should we opt for the sort of designers often championed by this magazine, who work with Fair Trade, eschew seasons, and emphasize quality?
   And sometimes it takes a film that is largely entertainment to make us realize just what has been going on. The message could well be lost if this were an out-and-out documentary, which would have had a limited audience; better to have us question our consumerist habits—you know, the ones we still observed as we lavished Amazon with US$11,000 per second as the COVID-19 pandemic panic began—in the form of entertainment, ensuring a wider reach. It’s not the first to do this, and it won’t be the last—it’s a long tradition that includes The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and South Park on television and, more recently, the oddly slow-moving Brexit with Benedict Cumberbatch, and the German feature Curveball. There’s nothing more appealing in the grey depths of winter, with overseas travel not available to us, than sunny, colourful Greek locales. And when you can travel again, pack those labels with a more ethical background.—Jack Yan, Publisher

 


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