Fuck!

Not to scare anyone or nothing but... i think I just met the father of my children!

I Blow at Conde Nast

The last post about Alexander McQueen stirred up some memories that I could not help to share with you.

I work in fashion and everybody thinks that it's incredibly glamorous and we meet fabulous people all the time. Well, one day I did. And her name was Isabella Blow.

Stylist, fashionista, muse but, above all, a lady! I was doing Paris Fashion Week several years ago and I was informed that I needed to go to the Ritz hotel and do the make up for Isabella Blow. I immediately turned white. I hate doing celebrities, specially the ones I admire and this one was making me very nervous. For years she was a figure that I admired for her persona, her style, her poise and her personal look. And now I was being asked to create (recreate) that look.

I headed to the hotel and waiting in the lobby was scary enough. If you went to the Ritz in Paris you know that you can breath aristocracy, wealth and style. I was eventually summoned to her room and all the scenarios were going through my mind. "She is going to be a bitch, she is going to hate my make up, she is going to kick me out of her room, she is going to humiliate me..." I was ready for the worse when I knocked on her door. This very busy woman, with a white satin robe and jet black bob opens the door. "Miss Blow? I am here to do your make up."

"Oh, hello, darling. Am I having my make up done today? I totally forgot you were coming. Come in, sweety. Sorry for the mess but I am packing. You see, I have to go to Italy to do a movie. They insisted that I had to do an appearance on this movie. Apparently it's about this sea explorer like Jacques Cousteau. Anjelica Huston and Bill Murray are in it and the director is just a darling. He did the Tenenbaums. Did you see it?" -"Yes, I did.", I replied. "I loved it!" -"Didn't you? Oh, isn't it just the funniest thing? And smart! Of course, I couldn't say no to him. Shall we go to the bathroom, darling? It's all so short notice but it will do me good, darling. You see..."

"Oh, my God! I'm doing make up for Edina Monsoon!", I thought in my head. We headed for the bathroom and she sat on the edge of the bath tub. I asked what she liked and she just told me to do something natural, with a bit of an eyeliner but nothing too fancy. And she kept talking all the time. She was telling me about herself, about her life, about her husband, about her heartaches... But she was also asking about me. We were actually sharing stories and giving opinions about them. I was feeling like I was talking to a friend, someone that needed to talk about her life but also that cared for the life of others.

While I was doing her make up, she had her eyes closed but she kept saying "Thank you, darling!", "Oh, it's beautiful, darling!", "Oh, I love it, sweety!". Not once she opened her eyes! I was loving this woman and I was feeling like I was on episode of Ab Fab. When I finished her eyes, I asked her to take a look and tell me what she thought. "Oh, darling! It's amazing! I love it! You are very talented! I feel beautiful! I love it!" She was beautiful but not from the make up. From the energy she gave, for this incredible human being that had this simplicity about her that was disarming.

I finished the make up with her signature red lip and started packing up my kit. She was now moving around the room when I ear her picking up the phone. She was calling the concierge "Hello, darling? Oh, I need to leave today and I was wondering if you could send someone up to help me pack. Oh, thank you!" As I entered the room, she is putting the phone down and looks at me "I just don't know where I put one shoe! I'm hopeless! Thank God they are coming up to help me!" I can't help but smile. I ask her if she needs anything else or if she doesn't mind if I go. "Of course not, darling! You have to go to shows, I presume. I loved your work. Do you come to London? You should write me an email and stay in touch. I don't have a business card but it's very easy to remember. iblow@condenast". I looked at her and I laughed. I didn't mean to but it just came out. She looks at me puzzled for half a second and then bursts out laughing as well. "Oh, I know, darling!"

The guy from the hotel was knocking at the door and I take that as my cue to leave. Before I go, she gives me a 20 € tip and wishes me all the best. Months later I find myself in a movie theater watching "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" and I see Miss Blow on the big screen. I smile and I remember those 30 minutes we spent together. You still put a smile on my face, Isabella Blow. May you rest in peace!

Not so much.

3 October. Somewhere on the ghetto of Paris.


Alexander McQueen was always the highlight of Paris Fashion Week for me. The last one I had done was very special as it was a tribute to Isabella Blow, a lady (in all senses of the word) that I was lucky enough to have met. In a way, it was also my chance to say goodbye.


This season I was again on the team and was very excited. Is the make up gonna be fabulous and outter wordly? Is the hair gonna be big and fabulous? Are the clothes be amazing? Is the mise en scène gonna be incredible?
Well... not so much!



The collection was inspired by the planet. The origins of life on Earth, the minerals, the scales of fishes and lizards, the rocks, the lava, the stones, the diamonds. Everything until the evolution of mankind. The runway had a huge sphere on top on which was projected the planet Earth, the Sun and finally, a human eye. On both sides of the runway we had huge stuffed animals, from peacocks, to giraffes and polar bears.



The make up was nothing but a block of eyebrows. Matte foundation and the tiniest bit of blush and that was it. No ghostly pale faces, no cleopatra eyes, no alien like textures, no nothing.
The hair was flat on the head, with a twisted braid on the back, pinned to the head and with a net over the face where meshes of hair were styled to look like swirls across the face. Ok, but the clothes are gorgeous, right?



Same signature silluette, same hips, same boobs but this time covered in fabulous stones. The shine was like no other i had ever seen and they were chunks of stones. The texture was amazing but, for some reason, it was not impressive. It was not McQueen. The shoes was where I could see the old McQueen. On some of them, the heel was made out of clear cristal. It looked like you were piercing the floor with a spear of ice. The others, in flesh tone or in black, were molded into human feet so it looked like you were barefoot but with heels. It was wierd, it was interesting, it was McQueen! Ok, but the show will be amazing, right?



Pure darkness and then, with the sound of insects chirping, the light started apearing in the background, illuminating the runway. Then the models started to arrive, one by one, walking the catwalk. Back and forth. No witches pentagram, no chess game, no wolves...



Great collection non the less but, did McQueen burn the house tonight? Well... not so much.

Oh, my fucking God!!!

2 October. Some tent between the Seine and the Eiffel Tower.

Shitty weather this morning. Grey, cold, rainy. Great way to start the day. We were doing Giambattista Valli with Ellis Faas keying the make up so, at least, it wouldn't be dreadful. She was cheerful and, after the third coffee, so was I. I set up next to this cute hairdresser named Brian and we chatted for a while. He thought I was from New York (how about that!!). As I was talking to him, I started thinking how come there are so many sexy hairdressers in the shows? Just on this alone there was Brian, there was this other baby faced one that i was just in love with and there was this tall french guy with the sweetest eyes and the most sinful lips that asked me to charge his Ipod on my speekers, while gently stroking my back. After he whispered "Thank you" on my ear, I didn't give a shit if he was french! I decided to keep my eyes open and elect the sexiest hairdresser Spring/Summer 09. Results to come soon.

We started the make up demo and I was amazed how come such a straight forward make up could have such a beautiful result. Nice full coverage matte foundation, a mustard poop liquid eyeshadow and a rosie cream blush on cheeks, lips and inner corner of the eyes made the most beautiful look ever! The inspiration was an old photo of a fresco. The girls needed to look prim, innocent, fresh and extremelly chic and this one was just the right make up for it. The perfect look of a subdued sophistication.

All the girls were late so I went to smoke some cigarrettes and see the clothes. Oh, my fucking God! The clothes are absolutelly stunning! Such precision, such detail. Everything is sculpted to create this amazing shape on a womans body. The fabrics are the most exquisit things ever. At one point I was looking at one dress that looked torned and old and burned, like an old piece of parchment and when I looked closer it was this amazing print. It was feminine, it was beautiful... it made me want to have a vagina!

The girls were still late and there was 20 minutes for the show to start. We still had to do a rehearsal and we are half way through. The backstage area is now swarming with photographers and video crews and we have to do make up in hair which means I have to go down on my knees again (and all for the wrong reasons!). Finally make up is all finished and we only need to do last minute touch ups at line up so I decide to have a smoke outside. Here I was, minding my own business when this security guy came to push us away cause someone wanted to pass. Hey, I know I am strongly build (yes, that's the term!!) but let's not get overboard! There is enough room for everyone. So out of this car comes this girl that everybody is staring at and smiling. And me, thick as a board, go "Who's she?!". A girl from production looks at me in awe and answers with boredom "Natalie Portman!". She was french and I wanted to slap her! How the fuck should I know who she is? The only movie I can remember with her was "Closer" and she looked like a cunt in it!

Anyway, show time. We have to do legs, arms and hands, powder every face for the 10th time and touch up on the lips. I was in heaven surrounded with all that gorgeous clothes and we could feel the tension in the air. Everyone knew this show was going to be a huge success and everybody wanted to make it work even better. Even the photographers were behaving, being out of the way of the models and not stumbling into everyone. The last dresses were something out of a fairy tale meaning that any fairy would kill to be able to have one of those. Just one dress alone, with corset and train, weighed around 10kg. It was an absolute wet dream and, like we predicted, the show was a hit!!!!

Oh, my fucking God!

Costume National

1 October. Carrousel du Louvre

Nice and early in the day, we head off to one of the "bathrooms" in the Carrousel. It's always funny go through all the tourists that stare at us with all our suitcases, with question marks on their faces. I set up in one of the corners to find out that i won't be needing my ITouch for music since the hairdressers are in charge of that. Amy Winehouse, New Order, Kate Bush... fucking hell, the man is the best!

The models were all coming from other shows so we had to wait and prepare ourselves for the final rush. Thank God for the great catering (carpacio, tiramisu, panna cota) and a very nice security guy that let us smoke in the fire escape stairs. To one of my visits to have a smoke, I peaked at the Ungaro show happening next door. Clothes were very spring chic but the music... oh, the music. A remix of the new Grace Jones song "This is Life". The diva is coming back and with a vengeance!!! For some reason, everything during this week is ending up in Grace Jones. Should be a sign of some sorts.

The make up was pretty straight forward but working to a tee for the collection. A mix of sober coordinates with a rock and roll twist. Nothing very risky but very wearable.

A nice grey shadow on the eyes nicely placed to mimic a natural shadow, to give it the rock and roll, smokey eye twist but not going over board. Sheer matted skin and paled out lips and voilá!

Nothing memorable but still good! The best of it all was my time with one of the models. I just love her! She's fun and intelligent and we had a nice "up the bum" chat. Just sharing tips and tricks on taking it up the arse. We do get along!!

Manish, or How I Started The Day Shitting My Pants!

30 September. Manish Arora.

I wasn't supposed to be on this show but I welcomed the change. I was having the chance to work with Kabuki again. For those of you who don't know him, Kabuki is, apart from a better phrasing, a fucking genius! He was one of the original club kids of NY, he done modeling for Tierry Mugler, he started his make up job in Sex and the City and now he is one of the most respected make up artists for his vision, creativity and talent. Besides all of this, he is the sweetest person ever and great to work with!

The show was at the Cirque D'Hiver, where I had done McQueen a couple of years ago. When he started the demo, I was like "I'm going home. I'm done!". 19 girls to do and all of them with a different look. The only common thing was the foundation and the lip. Just the foundation alone was making me shiver. If you ever tried to paint a face white, you know that what you see is not what you get. When you take a picture of it, you normally see that there are blotches of coverage that are not seen when you look at it with just your eyes. This means that you have to work in layers and be very precise on what you are doing. Second of all, every girl had a different thing that had to be glued to the face, which went from eye masks to velvet templates that were mixed with eyeshadow blends to create a Daliesque illusion of perspective and depth. None of us knew exactly what we were doing and each girl that came along was a Russian roulette of make up. For every girl we needed a particular brief and, obviously, this took time. All of this with the notion that, once you begin this make up, you cannot go wrong or you have to take it all off and start again. Stress, anyone?!

The clothes were pure Manish! An OTT mash of colours, patterns and textures that, unbelievably... works! I guess you can say that the theme was circus. I mean, I did see a carousel skirt. Yes, a skirt that was a real carousel that rotated and all! It was fun, it was colourful and a joy to do.

Four hours later, the show was over, everybody was happy and I was feeling quite proud of my make up abilities. Me loves me a bit of a challenge!

Kabuki is hitting Europe later this year and the beginning of 09 for some masterclasses with MAC. Catch him if you can because he is worth it!!

Have a look

http://www.kabukimagic.com

Vaseline, anyone?!

29 September. École des Beaux Arts.

One of the most beautiful schools I've ever seen. And an inspiration alone for the countless shows I've done there. I still remember a Dries Van Notten show, all in black, with the girls wearing black magnolias in their hair.

Vivienne Westwood is presenting her Gold Label tonight. After her show last season, totally designed by children, I was quite curious about what was going on for Spring Summer. We were introduced to this rock and roll lady. I wouldn't be surprised if Viv herself was the inspiration for this one. Everything was quite tailored to look effortless, baggy and against the system. We had "cocktales by the pool" hats, purple capes and vinyl overalls. All in gorgeous shoes and boots!

The make up was designed by Pep Gay, a Spanish make up artist, that was inspired by the thirties. Think of a rococo Man Ray... in black. The lips were originally very graphic, with very sharp and straight lines but it kept changing into a more rounded, more Victorian lip. The eyes were lined from within, top and bottom, with a black pencil. No foundation on the face. And when i say nothing, is nothing!

Panic time! The show is suppose to begin and we still have girls to do. Crazy, crazy, girls being stolen for rehearsal with no hair or make up. Here i am, on my knees, doing a girl at hair. Can you imagine doing that lip while her head is being pulled by a hairdresser? And for what? For a 1h30m delay!!!! For fuck sake, why do people have to stress when the previous show hasn't even started?! We just stood there for over an hour doing nothing but smoking cigarettes and eating grapes!

In one of my trips outside to have a fag (we can't smoke anywhere in France now. Fascists!), I spot this tanned, bearded, dead cute photographer looking straight at me. As I pass him, I smile and he goes, in portuguese, "Don't I know you?". In my head I go "Wish you would!!". We started chatting politely, him "Blablabla", me "U-Uh", him "Blablabla", me "Right", him "Oh, I will start going to Madrid regularly", me "YES!", him "My boyfriend lives there", me "Fuck!". We exchanged numbers in the end so, any updates will be informed!

Finally the show is about to start and, of course, it has to be chaos for something to be done so, at last minute, we have to add vaseline on every inch of skin, face and all. Here we are, all stupid at this time (the option would be to shoot ourselves for the time we were waiting), lubing all the models, the girls joining in and putting vaseline on our face... I swear to God, by the end of the show, I could have fisted someone with no problem. I'm sure Viv would have a laugh!

Belgian with a tan

28 September. First official day of fashion week. Yesterday Gareth Pugh was presenting his first show in Paris and I was kicking myself for not being in it. Bloody creative, the guy is. Just look at the dresses he does for Roisin Murphy. Brilliant!! But, I cannot complain! I have a light week but filled with interesting shows.





Had Rick Owens in the afternoon and it was the best introduction to the week mayhem! What can I say about the Nordic aesthetics? Minimal, nice cuts, no excess, clever. This season we saw nuns stepping out of rural painting. Think "Girl with the pearl earring" in light grey. The clothes were absolutely stunning, with the precise cut that we are used to from the designer and the fabrics were light but sharp, creating an interesting silhouette that reinvented body shapes.






The make up, like the clothes, was minimal. Paled faces, toned down brows and lashes. But this time the foundation was thinned down on the skin, creating the perfect texture but still letting the natural skin peer through, creating a haunting livelihood to an otherwise ghostly demeanour. The lips also helped to bring live to the look since they were not paled out but kept in their natural pink tones with just a hint of lip balm for some moisture.


Beautiful show, nice and peaceful with no stresses. Perfect to get our motors warmed up!

Paris, here I come!

New season, new dresses, new cuts. If it's the same for fashion, why not for me?

Checking in at the airport and getting upgraded to business class was a treat. But then sharing plane with Hollywood star Penelope Cruz's sister (it's close enough, God damn it!!) I thought it was a sign from the Universe. I'm going to Paris, I'm travelling in style, I'm rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous (shut it!!)... might this be it?!

Paris was never my favorite city, I'm a London guy. It would be fantastic without the french. But I have to admit that I saw more gorgeous men in half an hour then i had seen in a week in Madrid. A friend of mine asked why do they all have dogs, to which another replied, without a shadow of a doubt "Because they're the only ones who can stand them!" I do have to agree.

I did have my French lover. He flew over for a weekend at mines. Gorgeous body but a fucking complicated asshole! Too much trouble for a shag! But a shag nonetheless so my reply to everything, at the end, was "Shut up and bend over." In French... because i can!

First time I came here (3000 year ago!) i stayed in a nice apartment just by the Seine. We would wave at the bateaux mouche strolling by as we were having parties in each other rooms, drinking champagne and inviting models over. It was also the beginning of my international career of mystery. On my last day of fashion week, I was having a walk and doing some shopping when I saw this cute guy on the street. We looked at each other and continued our business. I did my shops, passed some time and when I was coming back, about two hours later, someone tapped on my shoulder. The gorgeous guy from two hours ago was talking to me in this timid french. I understood everything he said but, not knowing what to do and feeling quite nervous, I said to him, with my best british accent "I'm sorry but i don't speak french" (a little louder and opening my mouth a lot so I'd make sure that i looked like a complete twat!). He just replied "Oh, it's alright then, mate. I'm English!". Gorgeous and with a fucking cockney accent. I got hard right there!

He wanted to have coffee with me, get to know me a bit better because he liked what he saw. "But I am a lady!", I thought. And i was back then. Not international at all and no way mysterious! I told him that i had other things to do but if he would give me his phone number i would give him a call. I was still not believing what just happened while looking at the Seine from my room and specially not believing how thick I had been! Here I am in Paris, a gorgeous man just stops me on the street because he thinks I'm dead cute and I tell him to take a walk?! Now that is just spitting on God's face! Let's just say that I had an incredible breakfast with Oliver the next morning... in bed!

Here I am again doing the shows in Paris, with an open future in front of me. New season, new dresses, new cuts. If it's the same for fashion, why not for me? Now where the fuck can I find Oliver again?

Enough

I do believe! I still do!

Those of you that know me know that Attitude is one of my favourite magazines. I was reading the last issue when I came across a couple of interviews to young British men. Here are a couple of clips that made me smile:

How important are romantic gestures?

“It’s part of what relationships are about. It’s good to know Alex is doing stuff for me without my asking for it. There’s no point in being with someone if you have to tell them how to treat you.”

Steve, 24, Guildford

“I think the smallest gesture can be the best. (…) If he wants to go to an exhibition, I’ll surprise him with tickets, or if he meets me after work, perhaps he’ll have a little picnic set up in St James’ Park. I don’t think it matters how small the gesture is, it’s the thought that’s gone into it that appeals to me.”

David, 21, Upminster

Is commitment negotiable?

“If you’re in a relationship, you’re committed. There’s no way you should be meeting other people, or kissing someone else. I mean, if something were to happen, you’d work around it. That’s more of a mistake, not something that’s allowed.”

David, 21, Upminster

What’s your opinion of open relationships?

“I’m so against that. It’s not a relationship, it’s an agreement. It’s like having a flat mate you can sleep with if you don’t find someone else that night. Usually one person wants it and the other goes along with it, but they’re dying inside.”

Alex, 18, Guildford

What does love mean to you?

“It means unity, trust, you have that connection where they can make you smile just through texting you. When you see them, your heart races, and you hate not being with them… I think that’s it.”

David, 21, Upminster

“I guess it means to commit to someone, and to compromise on things to make your relationship work, and to make them laugh – you’ve got to make someone laugh if you love them.”

Adrian, 23, Liverpool

It’s nice to know they’re still out there. And they’re cute too!!!
Now, can someone like this move to Madrid, please?!

For him

.

.

.

.

He moved out

.

4 steps for mending a broken heart

1-


2-


3-


4-


Either way, I'm fucked!

Disenchanted angry young man

"Dear Dad


Things didn't turn out quite like I wanted them to.


Sometimes i feel like I'm gonna explode."

Turkish delight

I had a Turkish friend come by this past weekend. A really nice guy, hot as a motherfucker!, we got the chance to have a couple of beers together and hit some bars in old Chueca town. In between beers and words, our eyes wondered around the men that were in the places and, of course, the topic of the conversation became sex!

He was telling me all about his boyfriend and I was telling him all about mine but then we got into the pre-bf raunchy stories! How he did a taxi driver (no charge!), how I did a guy in a park, how we both had profiles on the internet and how he didn’t understand why top guys responded to his profile if he himself was a top. I was like “Waaaait! Rewind.”

Why wouldn’t a top hit a top? I remember some wild experiences with top guys. You don’t poke it but you can stroke it! And lick it. And suck it. And… (oh, well!) - when he told me that he didn’t suck dick. In his entire gay life, he only sucked two poor penises! Once each! The words just bursted out of my mouth “Aren’t you a lousy boyfriend!!” I mean, true – when you have sex with someone you expect the old in out but give me some starters please!!! You have an entire feast there, might as well enjoy the whole menu. A nibble here, a nibble there, a… (getting carried away again).

Gay or bi, man or woman (and even lesbians, poor things!) should have some cock in their menu! It’s just plain good! Am I right, ladies? Am I right, ladies (for the real ones, this time)?

It pains me to do it (cause he’s really hot!) but I hereby HAVE to pronounce him, officially… straight!

Introducing...

"Mrmr says:
top or bottom?
P.A. says:
Top. And hello to you to!!
Mrmr says:
sorry. hi.
Mrmr says:
i’m bottom. where r u?
P.A. says:
Madrid.
Mrmr says:
do u have other pics?
P.A. says:
No
Mrmr says:
i like what i see!!! how old r u?
P.A. says:
31
Mrmr says:
hmmmmm…. hot spanish bear!!! other stats?
P.A. says:
First of all, I’m not Spanish
Mrmr says:
u said u live in Madrid
P.A. says:
1,80m, 100k, shaved head, beard, brown eyes, hairy, top
P.A. says:
I live in Madrid but I’m Portuguese. Came here to live 4 years ago.
Mrmr says:
y?
P.A. says:
For work
Mrmr says:
what do u do?
P.A. says:
I’m a make up artist
Mrmr says:
cool
Mrmr says:
i’m going to madrid next week. wanna fuck?
P.A. says:
Sure!
P.A. says:
With my bf!!!
Mrmr says:
u have a boyfriend?
P.A. says:
Yeap! Guess you forgot to ask that one!
Mrmr says:
lol
Mrmr says:
can’t u get away for a quick shag?
P.A. says:
I live with him
P.A. says:
And either you’re joe d’alessandro or I stick to my man
Mrmr says:
who?
P.A. says:
Nevermind…
Mrmr says:
u wanna fuck or not?
P.A. says:
I have a boyfriend!!!!!!
Mrmr says:
so?!
P.A. says:
Fucking hell!!! It means no!!!!
Mrmr says:
fuck you!"

Some people just don't ask the right questions!!