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A.F.F.A.

AFFA

First: I’m not qualified to speak about AFFA. I don’t know that much about it.

Second: The muddled impression I can offer is definitely not sanctioned by AFFA’s creators.

–But, I was moved literally to tears by a mere sketch of the endeavor so fuck-it, I guess I’m willing to be the unauthorized guy getting it wrong in print. Apologies to the core group more expert on the subject if my account diminishes the thing in anyway.

For a short time I had the privilege of lending the crew at Visvim a helping hand. Nothing of any fundamental importance, but they let me tag along on some projects here and there. I was occasionally in Tokyo for the purpose.

Once during a Visvim VIP (Friends & Family) collection-launch in a rented space down the boulevard from Cow Books Hiroki Nakamura indicated that Hiroshi Fujiwara had a project I might be interested in seeing. I’ll confess I get a little nervous around people of genuine stature and I had been sorta star struck the very few times prior when I had interacted with Fujiwara. Sorry for that. I’m just that uncool.


I joined Hiroshi at his coffee table where he explained that he had just received a galley-proof of a new hardback book he and Jun Takahashi were producing to compliment a special series of garments they had created under the series label, A.F.F.A. This was to be presented at Dover Street Market.

Anarchy Forever, Forever Anarchy.

I had no idea what he was talking about at first but assumed if I paid attention and kept up my concentration I would be able to decode what was taking place in real time.

Since it was a galley proof, Hiroshi flipped the pages for me himself. It took me way too many page-flips to put it together. My self-consciousness slowed down my analytical skills maybe.

Every page featured a gorgeously lit full-bleed photograph of a laydown of a garment from the Westwood/McLaren SEX & Seditionaries collections. Page after page after page. Specimen after specimen.

Once he sensed that I was starting to get the conept Hiroshi explained that both he and Jun had been avid collectors of used Westwood/McLaren designs. Both he and Jun had traveled from Tokyo to London to acquire items and had either paid for them or traded the work of Japanese designers in exchange. –And both he and Jun had begun this practice way back when they were in their teens. They had clearly been Otaku on the subject because this was a very very thick book.


Now I understood. These images were of used/worn/distressed/loved/personal artifacts from a small army of mostly anonymous British traders over the years who had met either Hiroshi or Jun and whose grip on their own gear had been loosened by the charm and trading skills of the then very young Japanese aficionados…. And by their willingness to invest. (When I later shared the story with Simon Armitage he laughed and told me he was one of those traders back in the day. A much more reliable source than Damien fell victim to).


It was at that point the pure passion of the thing began to rumble off the pages through the airspace above the coffee table and softly pummel my lower stomach. The image (boyish, romantic and doubtlessly factually inaccurate on my part) of Westwood and McLaren crafting these designs decades ago… -The thought of the raw force and culture-changing impact their efforts constituted imprinting itself on the minds of two Japanese teenagers before the Internet, before mobile phones, before the fucking fax-machine. These and a host of other thoughts filled my head so fast that they began to jam down into my neck and shoulders. I was standing there trying to remain calm while my entire body was filling up with thoughts swimming in a strange brew of sentiment. Did this lead to me? Was I at that point-in-time standing on that location talking to this man because of the work of Westwood and McLaren?


I think I said, “they remind me of images of the Shroud of Turin,”. Yeah, except there’s only one shroud. Multiply an oddly similar blend of divinity, mystery, boro-filth, tactility, texture, urgency, naivety and beauty by hundreds of lushly printed pages of punk-shrouds and guess what happens?

What happens is that you end up fighting back the tears.

Then I think I said; “do either Westwood or McLaren know you are doing this?”. Hiroshi said; “I don’t think so, I hope they wouldn’t mind,”.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and assert that they probably know by now since this all occurred three years ago. And I’m going to assert that they wouldn’t (shouldn’t) mind. Not a goddamn bit. On the contrary, this project and these photographs represented explosive testimony as to the unforcastable achievement of their early efforts. This testimony educated me immediately and directly. In a flash, by the last page-flip, I understood. I could see the whole dramatic and socio-historic arc in which we now work.

An astral mist swirling tighter and tighter until it entered the hearts and informed the impulses of Westwood and McLaren launching back out of them like a Big Bang. Sending out thousands of new trajectories among which we are still navigating today.

Seeing these pictures of these clothes in this galley proof made me feel absolutely as if I was part of it. Not a big or important part, but a small gravel-chip propelled by Westwood and McLaren’s orginal sin following the dead straight path ordained by that kind of inertia. Never before having realized to what I owed the originating momentum. Never before seeing the whole thing in quite that way.

Part of Hiroshi’s retrospective fascination is that he had not known Jun during the time they were both collecting. Their natural bond was fortified further by the discovery that they had both shared such a specific (and exotic) mutual interest simultaneously but without conspiracy, pretense or plot. That simple fact contains the DNA of the same sensations I was having.  A simple eureka of; ITS ALL CONNECTED.

EPILOGUE
A year later I met Malcolm McLaren. He was manning his own stand at Bread & Butter Berlin. I did the lame thing and introduced myself as a fan. He was representing a project in kidswear whereby he was using highly pixilated graphics to create allover prints for Italian textiles. We talked briefly about this. I didn’t ask him if he had heard of the AFFA project.

Then something very fucked-up happened. Hiroshi appeared together with Hiroki. There in Berlin. At the show. They thought I might be around and were swinging by to say “hi”. I told them about McLaren’s attendance and they went over to his booth to rap with him. It was explained to him that Hiroshi was a famous DJ, but I don’t think they brought up the AFFA thing with him.

THERE OUGHT TO BE AN EXHIBIT
I have no influence with anybody who could make this happen, but there really should be an exhibit of this project somewhere in the West. In my mind’s eye I can see it clearly.

The MoMu, The V&A, F.I.T, here in the Netherlands.,… -Somewhere. Hiroshi & Jun’s beautiful archive photos blown-up giant. Maybe 180% of actual size. Shot with the love that each issue of WeAr magazine receives. Mounted on high-grade transparency chromes and backlit. Big dark rooms full of them. Standing like monoliths from Kubrik’s 2001, glowing like the truth. –On the floor the actual garments used for the photos lying in shallow glass boxes, pin-spot-lit like a tiffany window. The real things. The artifacts. The relics. The proof. Big rooms full of them like the opposite of a graveyard. A birthyard for our still current obsession.

All I saw were the pages, one-by-one as Hiroshi flipped them forward for me. And I can tell you that nobody who gives even the slightest shit about the work we do could make it ten yards into an exhibition like that without having their melon permanently twisted and fountains of catharsis well up in their eyes. –Or, said another way, you all would be weeping like a bunch of school-girls at the first sight of it. Trust me.

NOTE:
According to Wikepedia AFFA is a four-letter acronym which can stand for:

>  Angels Forever, Forever Angels, a slogan of the Hells Angels
>  Avengers Forever, Forever Avengers Motorcycle Club
>  Association of Football Federations of Azerbaijan
> Agriculture, Fisheries, and Forestry - Australia
>  Australian Film Fighting Academy

There is no mention of SEX, Seditionaries, Westwood, McLaren, Jun or Hiroshi.

More diatribes this way.

RIMOWA SALSA

"SALSA luggage never gets bent out of shape.  The nearly indestructible polycarbonate cases return to their original shape as soon as the pressure is released.  This is one of the features that impressed the testing organization TUV Rhineland.  In a large-scale test series in 2004 and 2005, Salsa was rated as 'the lightest and best' and crowned as test winner."  - rimowa.de

CABIN TROLLEY IATA 856.52

DIMENSIONS:  55 X 40 X 19.5 CM

WEIGHT:  2.9 KG

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CABIN TROLLEY IATA 851.52

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CABIN MULTIWHEEL 871.56

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TROLLEY 856.63

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NICE COLLECTIVE S/S 09

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SUMMER SUEDE JACKET

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2009!

BAXTER OF CALIFORNIA

"FLAMMABLE"  SOY WAX SCENTED CANDLES

in collaboration with Joya

Available in "Jasmin Noir," "Tubereuse Noire," 

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Secret Service Sunday with Legion Los Angeles

Secret Service Sunday with Legion Los Angeles

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LX331010-L - Black/Orange Dial, Brushed Black PVD Case/Bezel, Black Italian Calf Band ($425)

LX551010 - Black/White Dial, Brushed Rose Gold PVD Case, Brushed Black PVD Bezel, Black Italian Calf Band ($425)

CV331010 - Black/White Dial, Polished Black PVD Case, Brushed Black PVD Bezel, Black Italian Calf Band ($475)

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LX331911 - Champagne/Black Dial, Brushed Black PVD Case/Bezel, Lt. Brown Italian Calf Band ($425)

CV331911 - Champagne/Black Dial, Polished Black PVD Case, Brushed Black PVD Bezel, Lt. Brown Italian Calf Band ($475)

KZO and Legion Los Angeles

KZO Pop-up Store

Join us this Thursday, October 23 as KZO debuts a pop-up shop inside of Legion showcasing their Autumn/Winter Collection. The pop-up will last through Sunday, October 27, and there will be much to see, so, be sure to visit sometime this weekend before it pops no longer.

Here's a little more info, courtesy of the LA Times:

"Joel Knoernschild, whose father founded Billabong and Hurley, is the creative force behind KZO, which was chosen this month by Gen Art as a local "Fresh Face" to kick off Los Angeles Fashion Week. KZO's fall looks at Legion will include its motorcycle-zipper hoodie ($180), duffle coat with leather piping ($580) and quarter-leg navy biker-inspired pants ($250). Presented on monitors, the "Manzanar" menswear collection for spring mixes urban and outdoor apparel stalwarts updated with an L.A.-inspired palette of red, blue and charcoal."

[story]

Liam Maher, a charter member of the Legion Alliance, founder of Young Meagher, researcher on The Militant Guild of Rural Tailors and soon to head up design at DENHAM slipped us a copy of the original English language interview currently appearing in French in Digital Temple Magazine (Liam doesn't speak French. He can barely hold on to English). However, by the time the post was complete DT had mounted their own English version so we added some value by inserting the relevant links in our transcription. 

For the full text, use the LINK

FRENCH

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[story]

Corre & Barnzley put up their Dukes

Joseph Corre and Simon "Barnzley" Armitage have been busy with their misty new magazine, The Daily Terrorist.  Beautiful, well-crafted, confrontational, manic, truthful, irresponsible, juvenile, smart, opinionated, stylish and long overdue... 

-but what more would you expect from this duo. The offspring of Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood, founder of Agent Provocateur united with legendary Face stylist, original Stussy Tribe member and creator of People's Wardrobe, Needful Things, Acupuncture and more... With help from designer/illustrator Sichi they state their case in imitable fashion.  Like everything they're doing now, it will only be avaliblye in their London shop, A Child of the Jago.

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Moncler

The Buffalo Down Jacket
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[story]

MORE FROM OUR BROTHER-AT-ARMS, MR. MAHER:


STEAMPUNK, OTAKU & THE CHURCH OF QUALITY

THETOYSURPRISEINSIDE
My dad’s English. I spent all but three years of my childhood in an American suburb in the Northeast but the family culture was agitated by a few anglo rituals including the mostly unwanted appearance of rice pudding at Christmas. Positively the only reason for a kid to draw-spoon on a serving of this stuff is the minor excitement generated by the tradition of submerging a sterling silver charm within the otherwise tasteless paste. No doubt there will be an episode of Mad Men in season two where some junior account exec takes inspiration from this as he conceives the Toy Surprise Inside promotion for Cracker-Jacks or the American breakfast cereal we all scarfed down as kids.

Those toys were always cheap. Poor quality.

I’ve struggled with how to triangulate my orientation to this subject. –How to assemble the few ill-fitting fragments of a dimensional impression that may turn out only to be a phantom anyway. A phantom born of wishful thinking at worst. Sue me proceeding half-cocked.

STEAMPUNKQUALITYBYTHEPOUND
Steampunk is a subgenre fiction. The term denotes works set in an era where steam power is still widely used—usually the 19th century, and often set in Victorian England —but with prominent elements of science fiction, such as fictional technological inventions. (Torn and shredded from Wiki).

Since we’re interested in fashion, we’ll take the liberty of extracting a visual and tactile atmosphere from the genre. It’s warm and textured with tradition and forthrightness. It features a naturalistic patina, cobbled and improvised inventiveness and it manifests a form of nostalgia unstained by cloying sentimentality. It can be sinuous and feminine; think of Ruth Myers’ gorgeous costume designs for The Golden Compass, or funky and clunky; think of Wieden & Kennedy’s animated journeys through the world inside the Happiness Factory Coke machine. It’s exciting, mysterious, haunting, sexy and reassuring.

Couldn’t I be describing some of the rough tailoring and artisan denim labels that have continued emerge in the last decade? Terrorist from Corre and Barnzley, Paul Harnden, Trovata, Carpe Diem, Corpe Nove, Nomme de Guerre, SvSv, Engineered Garments (and now Woolrich), Rag & Bone, Casey Vidalenc, Forme d'Expression, Sruli Recht, Kmrii, KZO … -And all sorts of artisan denim concepts; Rogan, Prps, Ernest Sewn and RRL from the American East. Antik Denim, True Religion and People for Peace from the American West. Denham, Alelier la Durance and G-Star from the Netherlands. Imperial and Tsubi from Autrailia. Couldn’t I also be describing the most compelling retailers? A Child of the Jago, Dover Street Market, Freeman’s Sporting Club, Sidney’s Ontario, Odin, le Claireur, Undercover, Number Nine, Mano, Find Taiwan, UTH, Atelier, Legion LA, etc.

Not to mention the more obvious trends in design disciplines normally expressed in steam era mainstay’s of steel and leather. Bell & Ross square-face watches (and the clones and even those questionable U-Boat wrist-weights and their clones). Bianchi Pistas and (even more-so) more genuine and labor-won fixed gear custom velocipedes (with leather and copper Brooks saddles and the like). Bottegga furniture (Steampunk Moderne).

The thing about looking backward toward steam or Victorian England in order to look forward toward contemporary design is that we’re bound to gain weight on return trip. We pick up some heavy souvenirs of our retrospection. Those were days when both technology and quality could be detected on a scale.



A solid gold pocket-watch (its solidness being key) to a massive new steam-engine. Solid brass. Cast iron. Saddle leather. Milled oak. Gearwork, springcoils, bored cylinders… They’re all blessed with good old-fashioned weight. Hell, the rigid, squatting and earthbound industrial thrust of the Eiffel Tower was a study in weightlessness by comparison. What elese has weight? Lanolin-rich wool, Harris tweeds, oilcloth, Irish linen, drill-twill, gabardine, horsehide and, of course, denim and the vintage American shuttle-looms in Japan on which the connoisseur’s choice is woven. So do shank-buttons, rivets, bone, Bakelite and copper findings. Hard wear and heavy metal.


When every relationship that matters is imprinted on micron-thin silicon chips in our iphone or Blackberry, maybe the heft of the jacket or jeans we stash them in is the only thing left to help keep us grounded. Quality split in two. Simultaneously shedding all worldly form in favor of speed, versatility and capacity and all but evaporating weightless into the ether while it regains its lost substance re-rendering itself in a more substantial drystuff on our backs and asses. Gaining weight as we loose it.


The fact is that quality can still be measured in pounds. Substantial craft and materiality usually does weigh more. –So it might be a steampunk esthetic that has ushered it in, but the force spilling out of this Trojan (or Victorian) Horse is a surprise attack of quality. It doesn’t matter what leak it flows from as long as it’s rushing our way. Quality seems to be the Toy Surprise Inside.


OTAKUFROMTHOROUGHNESSCOMESQUALITY
The western equivalent of an Otaku personality is the 40+ year old guy fussing nightly over the train set in his basement “hobby room” which has taken him 14 years and 28,000 dollars to build. It’s not an image that has any charm. Obviously. Think of the dangerous poindexter Terence Stamp in the horror film, The Collector. And shit, when the subject of Otaku obsession is fashion the picture painted is even scarier. Buffalo Bill in The Silence of the Lambs. Otaku about larva (gag). Otaku about fashion (of the flesh, yikes). Anthony Hopkins invokes Marcus Aurelius in his coaching Bill’s capture. “What does he DO this man you seek?”. The crystalline chill slicing through Jody Foster’s answer, “… He COVETS” is the tenor of pure fear. So no, Otaku’s covetous behavior in the West is not normally thought of being cool.

In Japan it is actually no cooler. But there are important exceptions. Jun Takahashi was Otaku in his admiration for Vivienne Westwood. Hiroshi Fujiwara is Utaku in his passion for street culture in general. Hiroki Nakamura is Otaku relative to authentic outdoor brands. Hidehiko Yamane was Otaku in his approach to vintage Levi’s. The crew at Buzz Rickson’s are Otaku in there commitment to reproduction military, and so on… Nigo famously admitted his hope was to be a “cool Otaku” indicating this combination would represent an unlikely achievement.


Otaku behavior in my mind is partly indicated by a completist’s desire to achieve 100% thoroughness. To complete the collection. To have a thorough knowledge. Of course the more the Otaku learns about his obsession, the more there is to possess in the form of material exemplars as well as knowledge.


The growth in Otaku behavior in the East and West seem to me to represent a second Trojan Horse of quality. That’s because quality is the result of being thorough. To examine every detail. To look closer and closer and closer. Is the garment authentic? Is its fabric authentic? Is its construction authentic? Is its detailing authentic?

From an Otaku perspective, all must be authentic. Where you can’t always treat authenticity and quality as synonyms, I’d posit that the one will often at least lead to the other. You can test it by replacing authentic with remarkable. Is the garment remarkable? Is the fabric remarkable? Is the construction remarkable? Is the detailing remarkable?


No that surely sounds like quality is again the Toy Surprise Inside.

FAITHASRITUALANDTHEEMERGINGCHURCHOFQUALITY
Meditation, Repetition, Practice and Suffering

What about all those rivets holding together 2007’s Steampunk Treehouse at Burning Man?

Pre-silicone science. When science meant industry, industry meant industrious, and industriousness required repetition. Hundreds of rivets holding together machines from the future. Wax On/Wax Off. Meditative repetition leading quality.

What about the steam era’s artisan himself? The clockwork inventor. Equal parts mechanical visionary and dexterous magician wielding manual precision earned over years of practice. Wax On/Wax Off. Repetition leading to an increase in skill and personal ascension. He lived through mistakes en route and suffered in his pursuit of personal ascension. The higher he ascends, the more quality he was able to conjure.

We’re talking about nothing less then the repetitive ritual and faith-based devotion. The ritual of meditation. The ritual of suffering toward personal ascension. But in this case the church is a church where progress and quality are forever entwined.

What about the hours of study in the life of the Otaku?

The studiousness of the zealot. Like a monk with his scripture. Closer and closer inspection, deeper and deeper understanding, more and more thorough invocations. The line between completing a collection and constructing a reliquary nearly completely erased.

We’re talking about nothing less than study as an act of worship with knowledge of quality as the outward indication of divine achievement.

WASTEASORIGINALSIN
I regret not being able to steam-rivet these impression together with the otaku thoroughness required for them to manifest the levels of quality they are attempting to describe.

I’m only moved to share these impressions because I’m not sure the transfer of faith at least in part to a new church of quality is such a bad thing. Surprising but what would be worse, infinitely deplorably worse, if the transfer to faith to pointless undisciplined and wanton consumerism. If quality is the virtuous byproduct of a next evolution, then waste is surely its damnable next original sin.

Time will tell. Maybe the pilgrims will continue to convene within this millennium’s new virtual catacombs. Maybe denominations will multiply. The steampunkists, the otakuists, the new rough-luxuryists and the artisanists. If their emergence can stem the tide of global wastefacturing then God bless them.

I myself am still a sinner. I still sometimes consume without discipline. I’m resolved to take a lesson from these events and invest in more better instead of much more.

Can I get a witness?

Amen.

[special blame goes to William Gibson and Buzz Rickson’s for superimposing the disparate worlds of steampunk and otaku for me. Thanks to them also for collaborating on the finest MA1 jacket ever made]

More diatribes this way.

Gilded Age

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