At a release party for V magazine, you might find:

Have a look at the complete collection on style.com

The spirit of Peter Jensen’s awkward, gangly beauty manifests itself this season in the form of Shelley Duvall, the 70s star of Woody Allen and Stanley Kubrick’s films. Fresh with yellows, purples, and greens-the palette popped with the simple colour-blocking of crepe shirts tucked into pencil skirts, scalloped edge dresses and a silhouette that was unmistakably 70s. Long lashes exaggerated on the lower lid seemed to express the candour of a bright eyed ingenue. The mood was bright, atmospheric and pointed towards a season of optimism and youth.

Text and images by Ting Ting Qian

Yesterday, paying a little visit to Mr Hooper I had the pleasure to find there as well my old friend Frank Carter (some of you saw him on the cover of SB 0!). When I met him, he was “just” a tattooer at Frith Street London, but he since became a superstar singer for a band called the Gallows. More than for his music that I must admit not being my “cup of tea”, I always had a big respect for Frank’s extremely good taste in tattooing. The ones he makes and the one he gets. On his head, Frank has an amazing snake by Ian Flower.

I love to rise in a summer morn,
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me:
O what sweet company!

But to go to school in a summer morn, -
O it drives all joy away!
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.

Ah then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour;
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning’s bower,
Worn through with the dreary shower.

How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
And forget his youthful spring!

O father and mother if buds are nipped,
And blossoms blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care’s dismay, -

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?

The School Boy – William Blake

http://patrikervell.com/

Daniel Palillo‘s collections are always full of great pull-overs that make me want to watch The X-Files and perform acts of juvenile delinquency. Spring/Summer ’11 seems so far away now, but before you know it we’ll be lounging around the mall wearing a giant sweatshirt that says ‘I HATE MYSELF AND I WANT TO DIE.’ Truly prescient!