J.B. Taylor

Dimming all the Lights.

"One day in Berlin, Eno came running in and said, 'I have heard the sound of the future!' . . . he puts on I Feel Love, by Donna Summer. He said, 'This is it . . . look no further. This single is going to change the sound of club music for the next fifteen years.' Which was more or less, right."

                                                                     —David Bowie

Still trying to process the passing of Donna Summer, who provided the soundtrack to endless  childhood lip-synching routines, awkward Bar Mitzvah slow-dances, and teenage pre-rave warm-up parties (we always listened to Sunset People on the way to map points). It was to Last Dance that I got drunk for the first time at age 10, hiding under a table drinking champagne at my aunt's wedding (marking the end of my career as flower girl). In jazz class at age 13, we passionately rehearsed a Bad Girls routine, pretending we were hookers (Appropriate? No . . . Educational? Of course).

I first discovered the magical princess of the night when my dad brought home the die-cut gatefold of 1978's Live and More, resulting in hours of staring at Donna's rainbow sparkle gown on the back cover. She became an obsession, and for many years the poster from On the Radio, was pinned to my Marimekko castle wallpaper (see the shot below, and take note of the cartoon heels!)

Her Moroder collabs are some of the sexiest and most influential moments to ever occur in modern music. I'm regretting never having made an effort to hear her otherworldly voice live. Here's hoping she'll have a gig when we arrive at the never-ending disco in the sky.

Recommended viewings in honor of Donna . . . Thank God it's Friday (1978) and Foxes (1980). Recommended Summer reading  . . . writer Jon Savage and DJ Ewan Pearson on the catalytic power of I Feel Love.

And in other sad disco news . . . adieu to Robin Gibb. Looks like God really loves to Hustle.

Sassooning, with tears in my eyes.

Devastated to hear about the passing of hairdressing legend, Vidal Sassoon. My husband & I have actually been trying to emulate his positive lifestyle after viewing the wonderful 2010 documentary, How One Man Changed the World With a Pair of Scissors. It took my breath away to watch footage of him doing yoga beautifully at age 81 . . . still full of creativity, ambition, and humour. He seemed to be nothing less than radiant, and his self-made success story should be an inspiration to any creative or inventive soul.

Above: Sassoon (middle) with his debonair London salon team, c.late-1960s. Below: Model Suzy Parker in Chanel, getting tousled gorgeously by Vidal, c.early-1960s.

After years of experimenting with old fashioned '50s bouffants in London, Sassoon took a trip to New York city, and after falling in awe with the varied architectural landscape, he had a revelation that hair needed to be modernized for the fast-paced lifestyles of stylish metropolitan young babes.

Above: Vidal's first salon in London, all chrome, smoky mirrors and velvety browns, c.late 1960s. Below, L: Vidal's UK staff on their first visit to NY, where they were received like rock stars. Below, R: Vidal and his Beverly Hills salon staff, c.early-1980s.

His first famous experiment was in 1965, when he snipped model Grace Coddington's crimson locks into the sculptural "Five Point" cut for a story in Vogue. After seeing the photo, all the long-locked dollybirds came running into his futuristic-Deco London salon for cropped new 'dos. Designer Many Quant took notice of Vidal's magic talents, and inspired by each other, they revolutionized the modern look in unison . . . Quant giving girls monochromatic mini skirts and pop art accessories, and Sassoon giving them the look of cool, plus freedom from hairspray and weekly salon visits.

Above: Many Quant in her Sassoon bob, c.mid-1960s. Below: Vidal and Grace Coddington in her "Five Point" cut, as shot by David Bailey (?)

Now because we all look good, you'll always look good, Vidal Sassoon.

Faithfully.

I remember once hearing a record shop owner being asked by a customer who Marianne Faithfull was. His reply was "just some Rolling Stones groupie", and I immediately wanted to punch him in the face. Never just Mick's muse (he chased her, btw), or a stunning '60s dollybird . . . she was, for a long time, the spirit of The Stones. If it weren't for her, they would never have worn brocade, bought castles to fill with Persian rugs, taken LSD, tried to emulate the god Pan, or read Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita . . . which inspired nearly all of Beggars Banquet. She was rock 'n roll's first decadent, bohemian royal queen. Not only that, but she continues to contribute her own wonderful art to the universe . . . wildly entertaining memoirs, acting roles, and deliciously relevant music (collaborating with the likes of Nick Cave, Damon Albarn and Jarvis Cocker, to name only a few).

During a shamanistic convergence in my early-20s (aka; a really crappy time), I spotted a copy of Faithfull's autobiography at a used bookstore in Hollywood, and once I began reading about her glamourous, tripped-out and troubled journey, my soul applauded. I'd encountered a kindred vagabond spirit, and she's been a major source of inspiration ever since. It's also my belief that you haven't truly lived until you've seen her preform The Ballad of Lucy Jordan live. Next time she's in town, make it a life priority.

In a lovely tribute to her highness of cool, the Tate Liverpool has given Faithfull access to their collection, and she, along with gallerist John Dunbar (her first husband, also known as the man who introduced John to Yoko), have curated an autobiographical show featuring pieces she feels represent seminal periods in her colorful life thus far. The show, entitled Innocence and Experience, includes pieces by: Richard Hamilton, Nan Goldin, Man Ray, Lucian Freud, Francis Bacon (a close friend of Faithfull's), Robert Mapplethorpe, Pauline Boty, Rene Magritte and Sir Peter Blake, among others. I'm hoping to catch the show before it closes on September 2nd.

More about Marianne:

– She has the distinction of being the first person to say the word Fu*k in a motion picture (1967's I'll Never Forget What's'isname)

– Jimi Hendrix's The Wind Cries Mary is about her.

– She divides her time between an apartment in Paris, and an Irish castle with a ballroom made entirely of seashells.

– She co-penned the lyrics to Sister Morphine, and Jagger wrote Wild Horses about her . . . probably his most beautiful love song, ever.

– She recorded reggae with Sly & Robbie and Serge Gainsbourg.

– Marianne's great-great uncle was Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, author of the fetishtic book, Venus in Furs (1869). The concept of "Masochism" was later named after him.

– Her best friend is Anita Pallenberg.

– She basically invented hardcore gangster rap.

– She turned down Bob Dylan.

*Faithfull collage by me, J.B.T. Please do not reproduce without permission. Merci.

Desk Set.

Never one to pass up a good double-dare, I'm acting on a challenge posted here by Cat Party editrix, Chelsea Fairless, where she asked fellow bloggers to fearlessly post a screenshot of your insane desktops. So here for your viewing curiosity, is a peek into my digital brain . . .

I'm hereby passing this dare along, so don't break the chain, s'il vous plaît. If I can admit that I'm pre-planning a trip to the Trader Joe's in Danbury, you can too! C'mon and feel the liberation of sharing your deepest, darkest, nerdiest folder titles with the universe ; )

Knit Wit.

My dark and rainy morning was made infinitely more inspiring after discovering these tripped-out videos of performance artist and mother of re-purposed textiles, Evelyn Roth.

In the 1960s, before the concept of recycling was of any global importance, Evelyn began collecting old sweaters, unraveling the soft wool, and re-knitting the yarn into large scale cocoon-like shelters, provocative clothing and political wearable art. She is also known for collecting old rolls of TV film (found in newsroom trash bins), and crocheting it into clothing, car covers, and performance art costumes. When viewing the videos above, be sure to watch the awesome Arts 74 interview, wherein she performs a rad dance piece, playing with physical movement while completely encapsulated by one of her soft mollusk-like sculptures.

Above, top L: Roth c.1970s in a capelet of recycled feather dusters. R: In a crocheted fur and leather ensemble. Below, L: Moving sculpture happening in Vancouver. R: Recent portrait of Roth in a wheatgrass cape and recycled tape gown.

Roth has always found it bizarre that any person would choose to wrap their own skin in synthetic fabrics and textures, knowing that humans have the freedom to swath their bodies in any fabric available on Earth. Through her art, she wants to help people understand the physical and emotional effects brought on by the textiles we surround ourselves with, both healthy and non. Clothing and shelter are both intensely tactile and sensory experiences, to be considered with care, creativity and sustainability.

Above: Sea mollusk performance piece c.early 1970s. Below, L: Making a call from "The Family Sweater". R: Roth chilling out inside "The Environment for Living Recycled from 110 Sweaters".

I'm off to find a set of driftwood needles so I can whip-up a living room teepee and knit a sweater for my husband, Pug and I to wear simultaneously.

Levon, ramblin' on.

Saddened to hear about today's passing of legendary multi-instrumentalist, Levon Helm. Most known for being an intrinsic member of The Band, he is also beloved for his rip-roaring Midnight Rambles . . . star-studded concerts he regularly hosted on his property in Woodstock, NY. We live only two hours away from his barn theatre, and have always planned to attend a Ramble, but are deeply bummed that we waited much too long.

Above: The Band's 2nd album, c.1969, Levon, second from left.

Though I love the poetic down-home brilliance of The Band, my most favorite thing that Levon left to this Earth, was his gorgeously tragic and sensitive performance opposite Sissy Spacek in Coal Miner's Daughter, playing Loretta Lynn's hardworking, ever-loving father. If you haven't graced your eyes and heart with this film . . . do yourself a favor tonight.

Here for you to enjoy is my favorite song by The Band (of off 1968's Music From Big Pink), as well as Elton John's gorgeous tribute to his dear friend Levon, c.1971. 

(Flower) Pot Head

A few weeks ago I wrote about a lost 1968 Shirley MacLaine film I've fallen in deep crush with called, The Bliss of Mrs. Blossom (currently streaming on Netflix), which features fantastical, psychedelic dream costuming designed by Jocelyn Rickards, who was also responsible for Jane Birkin's kimono and butterfly tights in Wonderwall.

While getting inspired by photos of the recent Spring 2012 Couture shows, I spied a chapeau by Alexis Mabille that instantly made me think of something Mrs. Blossom had rocked decades before, and was curiously similar. Also during my vintage research/procrastination session, I spotted a 1970s look by Claude Montana for Lanvin that too reminded me of said floppy floral topper . . .

Mabille Photo: Allessandro Viero

Hang time.

I'm in the midst of a major Spring cleaning, switching out my Winter pullovers for warm weather caftans, and attempting to organize my Hoarders-worthy vintage jewelry collection into one single chest. This is a major feat, considering I have hat boxes full of baubles collected throughout my life, including every bangle purchased in the '80s, a lifetime of band pins (one never knows when they'll feel like breaking out their Adam Ant buttons again), and swag scored from all the glam grandmas I've known. Also highly coveted are my Zuni pawn and old Mexican artisan silver pieces, '50s trading post copper, African beads, '80s Ralph Lauren and '70s Elsa Peretti.

For years I've been hanging all my necklaces on a hook in my closet, but they were constantly becoming tangled up in each other. So, on a recent antiquing trip to Beacon, NY, I spotted a pair of antlers ($30), an item I previously found to be overused decor-wise and swore I'd never buy, but realized they'd make the perfect jewelry hanger. All it took was one nail, et voila! Also purchased was a 1920s tool chest edged with copper ($75), that I lined with camel colored wool. It's made accessorizing so much easier!

The Adamson Family.

After becoming an item in the '70s, my parents moved from their Westwood apartments into a beachside love-nest in Malibu. Yet they were sad to find, that after a while, the morning commute to their fashion jobs in Downtown L.A. via the tortoise-paced Pacific Coast Highway became unbearable. This probably had to do with the influx of celebs moving to the old Movie Colony, as well as the retro re-discovery of teen cruising, and the surfing revival, birthing a million Spicolis in search of babes and waves. So they bought a quiet house in The Valley, but took my sister and I every weekend to the 'Bu, to visit their old haunts, and let us swing on the Country Mart's jungle gym.

I have memories of building sandcastles in the Malibu Lagoon as a little girl, and being curious about the beautiful tile-worked "Adamson House" sign on the road nearby. It wasn't until reading about the home in Martha's Living, that I became aware of what an architectural gem was sitting right there on our shore.

After years of curiosity, we finally took a tour . . . exploring every nook & cranny of the castle-like tile shrine. Land developer Frederick Rindge and his enterprising wife, May, originally purchased the land on which Malibu sits in the 1800s, and after his passing in 1905, his wealthy widow began leasing surrounding property to Hollywood stars, creating the infamous Malibu Movie Colony. With that income, she invested in the founding of Malibu Potteries (c.1926), and in 1930, May's eldest daughter Rhoda married Merritt Anderson,and together they founded the successful dairy farm, Adohr (Rhoda spelled backward). after that success, they began to build her dream home on her family's property, designed under the supervision of architect Stiles O. Clements, and utilizing the talents of pottery artisans like Rufus Keeler. Though the tile factory only existed for 7 years, closing due to the Depression, the works it produced are timeless jewels that still adorn many of California's most beloved landmarks, including; City Hall, the Mayan theatre, and Hollywood's Roosevelt Hotel.

The preservation efforts are astounding . . . the family's original furniture exactly where it was placed in the 1930s, and the eye-dazzling array of colorful tile motifs all in tact, each piece hand-painted and fired using the traditional Spanish cuerda seca glazing technique. Every detail hails from that bohemian era when folks first began fantasizing about traveling to exotic locales. As a result, the decor is an eclectic blend of Spanish colonial architecture adorned with Moorish, Moroccan, Pueblo Deco (my new obsession) and Mediterranean details. Also noticeable are hand-painted Scandinavian wooden pieces, as well as gothic Nouveau-style touches (make sure to catch the iron spider web gate). Real rugs were unneeded, as Malibu Pottery artisan William Handly created full-scale custom Persian carpets made entirely of tiles for the floors. There is even an outdoor tiled tub room solely for washing the family hounds. Also not to be missed are the whimsical children's rooms, covered in fairy tale and Maritime illustrations, not to mention the tiny upstairs "snack kitchen" for guest, and the Egyptian Revival style pool house.

The Adamson House & Gardens

Tours Weds.-Sat. 11am-2pm

23200 Pacific Coast Highway, Malibu, CA

Photos: Me and Martha Stewart's Living

Fathomers Unite.

I'm thrilled to be a new contributor to the world's most bitchin' travel site, FathomAway.com. My first two pieces are now live . . . one on the whimsical Parisian tzotchke boutique, Au Petit Bonheur La Chance, as well as a questionnaire with some of my favorite travel memories and rituals.

More Fathom musings to be posted in the near future, and for a ramblin' soul whose Filson duffel never seems to make it back into the closet, this feel like a marriage made in vagabond heaven. So jazzed!

Enjoy the tips and tales, and happy trails to you!