Usually it’s a designer that seeks a muse to embody their aesthetic and vision for life. The pairings are famous. Most recently we had Tom Ford with muse, Carine Roitfield, as they shaped the house of Gucci in the late 90’s and into the beginning of the new millennium. But in our current age of mashed up visions, cross referenced time periods and styles, and nostalgia for an imagined innocence, the role of designer reaching out to muse is changing. And there is no better example of this than Alexander Wang.
Florence + The Machine
Like a screaming harpy accompanied by a harpist, British singer Florence Welch flew into NYC on Monday for the first of two shows here. I was eager to see this woman, whose brilliant opus of a record, Lungs, is one of the best, and hardest to classify debut albums ever. In it I hear, and call me crazy, Concrete Blonde, Kate Bush, Siouxsie Sioux, Cocteau Twins, and Sinead O’Connor. She yelps. And screams. And sings her heart out.