“August is vacation month in Europe, and most people in Italy go away. So I chose something very summery that many people are attempting right now: the midriff-revealing crop top. I like the idea of Carlotta’s mixed proportions: It’s a crop top over a skirt that has horizontal stripes and is floor-length. She’s able to wear different proportions but also colour—the metallic blue sunglasses match the skirt and the mini Kelly clutch. I know for most women it’s a bit extreme to be wearing those three together, but I think there’s a lesson to be learned in how to play with colour, pattern and proportion. This is a nice end-of-summer look—it makes you want to go on vacation. When I look at this, I think of St. Tropez or Lake Como.”
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When Marc Jacobs and Sofia Coppola take the stage at the launch for his fragrance Daisy Dream (from $85, Hudson’s Bay) at New York’s Dia Center for the Arts, you want to study them the way a zoologist watches animals in their natural habitat. You’re compelled to scrutinize not only their behaviour but what they’re wearing—she’s in slim, cropped black pants, a coral sweater (both by the designer himself) and black ballet flats, while he’s in a suit paired with dingy Adidas Stan Smith sneakers. Being in such close proximity makes the impenetrable sphere of cool that surrounds them all the more apparent; you fantasize about what their conversations must be about, what clothes he designs with her in mind and whether they share current iPod playlists.
They’ve been friends since the early ’90s, and Jacobs has enlisted Coppola over the years for various projects, from modelling in the ad for his very first fragrance to advising on shoes and bags for Louis Vuitton. He tapped her once again for directorial duties on the TV commercial for Daisy Dream, and it sounds like it was an effortless task. “We have similar tastes in music and photography, so I felt like I knew how to approach it,” says Coppola. “How Marc sees women is something I identify with.” As a feature film director, she embraced the opportunity to not have to deal with dialogue. “I think in the way that a fragrance is sort of abstract, I liked not having to tell a story, but more a mood or an atmosphere.”
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Growing up in my family, tanning was pastime, pleasure and competitive sport. Pale was pejorative. My parents, both great tanners in their youth, lived in East Africa in the early ’70s, before I was born. That time in their lives seemed to me fabulously glamorous—never mind the fact that my sister, a baby then, contracted malaria and nearly died—because for two years, they were tanned. Deeply tanned. Not the amateur-hour suntan you might obtain after a week in Fort Lauderdale, the kind of profound, layered tan that makes you look like another person—an exceptionally well-leisured one.
I remember the four of us in the ’80s, lying on a quartet of loungers and passing the Hawaiian Tropic SPF 4 down the line like a familial baton. If my friends enjoyed splashing around in swimming pools and lakes, I liked lying down next to them, and nowhere in the vicinity of a sun-blocking parasol. Parasols were meant for other people, the ones who took long luncheons in the shade during prime UV time. (I preferred to feast on rays.)
When my sister and I had a productive tanning day, we’d high-five each other as the sun sank into the horizon and our freckles settled into our still-warm cheeks. A tan, like the travel that furnished it, was an escape from our regular selves, a gilded (if short-lived) costume.
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He has clearly just rolled out of his log cabin to forage for berries and slap a tin coffee pot over a fire of loose twigs. His long hair and beard are wild, and he is dressed in things thermal and plaid, with barely laced, modified Kodiaks on his feet.
A maniac living off the grid? Hardly. This was the subject of a recent lush fashion spread in the Financial Times: a manly man “whose hardwearing frontier style is wildly on trend.” Total cost of the new Daniel Boone’s morning attire: $7,925, which includes his Gold Cybele necklace and Wright & Teague rings. Once, this beast-man would have been mistaken for a 1970s pot dealer, a sasquatch or our sexual antithesis. (I have heard so many women long for the smooth, hairless type that for years I assumed all women were looking for male/female hybrids.)
But now—as with another ’70s icon, Burt Reynolds lying bare-ass on a bearskin rug—the woodsman is a bona fide hunk, a highly masculine, testosterone-flaring, sexy wild thing who makes us look and feel so tiny and, well, pruned beside him.
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While many actors and actresses are nowhere near as beguiling as the roles they play, Zoe Saldana—who graces our August 2014 cover—cannot be counted as one of them. Known for nailing roles such as the wildcat Prima Donna of Center Stage, a warrior-princess named Neytiri in Avatar, and Star Trek’s fiercest Lieutenant, Nyota Uhura, Saldana’s is just-as omnipotent off screen. Arriving in L.A.’s Milk Studio for her shoot, alongside her trusted Toto-from-Oz looking dog, Mugsy (who actually tried to pull focus and ran in front of her a couple of times whilst the photographer was snapping), the former dancer-turned-actress/producer twirled, sang and joked during the entire day on set. After busting into Alvin Ailey style choreography and hitting a few Beyoncé high notes while posing for the camera, Saldana sat down with FASHION’s features editor, Elio Iannacci, to chat about the next couple of flicks, which include the next installments to Star Trek, Avatar as well as two new badass roles in Guardians of The Galaxy (as alien martial arts master, Gamora) and Nina, a biopic of civil rights singer/musician Nina Simone, aka the legendary High Priestess of Soul.
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Glistening skin, post-swim hair and makeup reminiscent of azure Caribbean waters—a tidal wave of oceanic influence is upon us. At 3.1 Phillip Lim, the hair was described as “crustaceous” and “shipwrecked” and skin had a pearlescent glow; retro mermaids wore a wash of aqua eyeshadow at Badgley Mischka; and models on the Band of Outsiders runway had damp, side-parted waves meant to replicate “Jan Brady at the beach.” At Kenzo, the save-the-fish message of the collection was echoed by manicures tipped with white crashing waves, while hair was twisted into a seashell shape at Carolina Herrera for a look that was decidedly uptown. Life’s a beach, even if you’re stuck in the city.
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Thought pastels were only for spring? Think again. Add bursts of colour to your summer makeup routine with soft shades that make a bold statement. In this gorgeous beauty shoot from our summer 2014 issue, pastel nails, eyes and lips are perfect for poolside.
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Newsflash: Sunscreen isn’t akin to a hazmat suit. But the power to defend yourself optimally is literally in your hands.
The rules for sunscreen have changed yet again. Yes, you still have to apply it, and not just in the summer or when there are no clouds. But Health Canada says it can no longer be called “sunblock”—it’s not denim, so some UV is getting through—or “waterproof.” (“Sunscreen” and “water-resistant” are allowed.) This will spare us from a false sense of security.
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