New York–based retail phenomenon Opening Ceremony turns ten next year – though its founders, Humberto Leon and Carol Lim, have known each other for much longer than that. Best friends as well as business partners, their unique vision has seen them challenge the traditional concept of retail fashion and establish themselves as the undisputed king and queen of collaboration — they count the likes of Chloë Sevigny and Spike Jonze as co-conspirators. As they prepare for the next chapter (or next ten years, at least), Alice Cavanagh put them to the test in Oyster issue 94 to find out how well they really know each other.

CAROL ON HUMBERTO
Alice Cavanagh: When did you first meet Humberto?
Carol Lim: The first time I met Humberto was at my apartment in Berkeley. I was studying and in my pyjamas, and he convinced me to go out in them — to go dancing in San Francisco.

Do you remember what he was wearing?
Pendleton flannel and Levi’s 517 cords.

Where were you the day you decided to work together?
We were in the subway of Hong Kong, I think at the Tsim Sha Tsui subway.

Who decided on the name Opening Ceremony?
We decided we needed a name that would be inspiring. Our friend Shannon Han suggested Opening Ceremony after she heard about what our concept was, and we loved it.

Who is the better dancer, you or Humberto?
Definitely Humberto.

OK, so now the real test begins: if Humberto were an Olympic athlete, which event would he compete in?
He would be a figure skater, or maybe a basketball player. Either way, he would design his own uniforms.
[Humberto’s answer: Definitely ping-pong or mud wrestling.]

If Humberto had a soundtrack to his life, what would it be?
The soundtrack would involve Depeche Mode doing a Robyn cover.
[Maybe Mariah Carey’s Daydream album or Morrissey’s Viva Hate.]

What is Humberto’s favourite kind of food?
Chinese, especially any pork products.
[My mom’s food is my favourite; Chinese is my absolute favourite.]

What is Humberto’s favourite travel destination?
Asia.
[I like what Carol likes … Anywhere if there is a beach, sun, water — both ocean and pool.]

What are some of Humberto’s best attributes?
He is always ready to try anything — that, and he has a wicked sense of humour.
[My karaoke skills; my ability to try almost all foods once; my love of collecting things.]

What are some of Humberto’s worst habits?
Maybe hitting the snooze button one too many times?
[I don’t like making my bed.]

If Humberto could meet anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?
River Phoenix.
[Madonna or Robert Mapplethorpe.]

What is Humberto’s greatest extravagance?
Art and books.
[My magazine collection — so heavy.]

What would be Humberto’s career highlight so far?
Creating Opening Ceremony.
[The first day of Opening Ceremony.]

What is Humberto most afraid of?
Rats, and maybe mice.
[Ghosts; rats; dead mice; durian; no toilet paper left in the world.]

What is guaranteed to make Humberto laugh?
Me falling down in heels.
[Me!]

HUMBERTO ON CAROL

Alice Cavanagh: When did you first meet Carol?
Humberto Leon: I met a girl named Cynthia in my painting class and we quickly became friends. After a couple of after-class smoke breaks she invited me back to her apartment on Wheeler St in Berkeley, California. That is where I met Carol.

Do you remember what she was wearing?
She was probably wearing pyjama bottoms and a tank top. I think that she was sitting in the kitchen with their other roommate, Tina, who I thought Carol was tutoring, but then I found out she was actually an adult.

Where were you the day you decided to work together?
We had loosely talked about it during our lunch breaks, when I worked at Burberry and she worked at Bally, but more like teenagers dreaming about professions you would have in the future. It became more realistic when we travelled to Hong Kong and realised how much fun it was to travel together and shop, eat and play all day.

Who decided on the name Opening Ceremony?
Actually, this credit has to be given to our architect friend Shannon Han. She helped work on the layout of our store and we were struggling to come up with a name. We knew all the things that inspired us so once we said all that, she said, “What about Opening Ceremony?”

Who is the better dancer, you or Carol?
Depends what you consider to be better — is funny better? Then that would be me. Carol is probably longer-lasting.

OK, so now the real test begins: if Carol were an Olympic athlete, which event would she be in?
Definitely tennis, or swim-relay racing.
[Carol’s answer: I would choose swimming.]

If Carol had a soundtrack to her life, what would it be?
Maybe the soundtrack to Dune, or the first Belle and Sebastian album.
[Arcade Fire doing a Cocteau Twins cover.]

What is Carol’s favourite kind of food?
Well, for sure Korean, and if Fungus could be a country, then Fungean.
[That is tough, but I have to go with Korean.]

What is Carol’s favourite travel destination?
She loves travelling to new places and learning about the culture in that place.
[Asia.]

What are some of Carol’s best attributes?
Her kindness, her intellect, her honesty, her love of food, her sense of calmness and her ability to end all texts with the letter K.
[I can be convinced to try anything, and I like to laugh.]

What are some of Carol’s worst habits?
She has this trick where she can predictive speak… It’s the worst for others, but for me it’s fun.
[Making someone eat the last dumpling on a plate — I hate wasting food.]

If Carol could meet anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?
Anthony Bourdain.
[Bob Marley.]

What is Carol’s greatest extravagance?
Her crochet and silhouette collection — it’s out of control.
[Food.]

What would be Carol’s career highlight so far?
The first day of Opening Ceremony.
[Working with Humberto.]

What is Carol most afraid of?
Unexpected screams, maybe ghosts.
[Ghosts.]

What is guaranteed to make Carol laugh?
Me!
[One of Humberto’s jokes.]

A hot June day in Paris brings the kind of sweltering heat that can make you feel a little bit drunk (not necessarily a bad thing). I’m at a café near La Madeleine, tucked away in a corner and trying to be discreet. You see, I have a rendez-vous with Sébastien Tellier, France’s electro-pop playboy, and I have arrived early to cool off, quite literally — my shorts are stuck to my legs. “Not to worry,” I think, sipping on my Perrier, “he’ll be late.” At 4:30 pm on the dot, however, a tall, very hairy man breezes in and talks amicably with the waiter, before heading back outside to sit down. I sigh (shorts and legs are still as one), knock back the rest of my drink and walk over to introduce myself.

The first thing of note is that Tellier is much more attractive in the flesh than I had expected. He’s stylish — not in an ironic way like in his videos — and behind all that hair there is a very handsome face, with a pair of extraordinary blue eyes that light up when he is amused. This happens often over the course of our two-hour chat, though I can’t take any credit. No, Tellier is one of those wonderful people who can laugh at themselves. Perhaps this is too obvious a point to make to anyone who’s ever watched his clips or seen him perform, but for those who haven’t, let’s recap: for his Eurovision entry in 2008, he decked out his female back-up singers in fake beards, gyrated around on stage and sucked on a helium-filled ball, all while an off-camera wind-machine fanned his locks. This was, however, a toned-down Tellier for the masses. While conducting my research, Vincent Vendetta, of the Midnight Juggernauts, relayed a more typical performance: “We once played a gig together in the north of France which concluded with him rolling on the floor and making love to the monitors on stage. It’s funny watching an audience respond to a man caressing a large, inanimate speaker-box for five minutes.”

Read the rest here or in my published section.

Imagine being born with an innate sense of superiority; not just a ‘cash money’ sense of superiority, but the royal kind; the kind that comes with great responsibility and — in most cases — a luxurious lifestyle. Historically, this meant that while you lived in a palace, rode in a carriage and had your privates washed for you*, you were also ignored by your parents, lacking certain social skills and in constant fear of being usurped by an ambitious relation — or your dissatisfied populace. Is it any wonder, then, that King Henry VIII insisted on having six wives, King George III was committed to a straightjacket, or that Queen Elizabeth I was often heard making the threat: “I will make you shorter by the head”? These people, deprived of a regular existence, became deranged.

In modern times — in the Western world, at least — the threat of revolution and treason has subsided, as has the importance placed on the monarchy. Accordingly, as the British Royal Family loses its relevance, it would be fair to assume that the drama would abate as well. Not so! Sure, we can see how stylish and ‘human’ the blue-blooded are when they grace the covers of magazines. But those brilliant smiles and receding hairlines are unable to conceal one indisputable fact: despite their dignified upbringing, they love a scandal. Take, for example, Princess Stéphanie of Monaco, who ran off with a Portuguese trapeze artist; or the incomparable Sarah ‘Fergie’ Ferguson, who drunkenly betrayed her ex-husband to the media; and, of course, let’s not forget Kate Middleton’s uninspiring taste in fashion — all have committed crimes that have lost them the respect of their people. Although, at least they have drawn the line at inbreeding: if you ever want to feel normal, just look up King Charles II of Spain, whose grandmother was also his aunt. Yet, however disturbing their behaviour might be, we will never tire of the tales of royal shortcomings. Perhaps we find it reassuring that these people, despite all their pomp and ceremony, are just like the rest of us — sans privacy.

* As seen in Coming To America.
Image: George Condo (‘Insane Queen’, 2006).

Romance Was Born

majestic old room
surrounding books, daylight lit
the show started late

an endless front row
I wanted to sing along
‘Goodbye Horses’

models looked like
Princess Leia on acid
their shoes, they were flat

prints, lace and colour
it was all in the detail
Cate Blanchett was there

over the top theatre
the clothes, the make-up, the hair
not good for the beach

each look dramatic
some we found puzzling
but liked all the same

voices softly sang
‘Never Ending Story’
there was loud clapping

http://oystermag.com/rafw-review-in-haiku-romance-was-born

It’s been too long!

A nice, ripe hunk of Munster — or ‘monster cheese’ as it is often called — can bring about either moans of delight or shouts of horror from any given individual. To evoke the smell, think of someone you know who does a lot of sport, or wears sneakers without socks. Even better: think of someone who does both these things. Now, imagine bringing their sneaker to your nose and inhaling. Slowly. That odour could be likened to the smell of the Munster and yet die-hard fans are unswayed by such comparisons.

The Greeks like their cheese — most notably feta — salty and sharp in flavour. The Cypriotes have haloumi: a cheese that is best fried before being eaten. Genius! The Italians have their mozzarella, Burrata, Tellegio, Gorgonzola… all cheeses that can stand on their own as a dish. And then, of course, there is France — the land of cheese. As President Charles de Gaulle put it during his reign in the sixties, “How can anyone govern a nation that has two hundred and forty-six different kinds of cheese?” To which we say, “But Monsieur de Gaulle — consider the perks!” (Just what type of cheese the Moon is made from, scientists have not yet determined.)

Cheese was first made around 10,000 years ago and was an important addition to our diet. High in calcium and protein, cheese is essential for bone development and (should you need it) weight gain. For a long time, cheese production was a simple concept — the product of a bucolic life — until the Romans turned cheese making into an art form and the consumption of quality cheese became the ultimate luxury. The curdled milk of (for the most part) cows, goats and sheep, all cheese boasts the same humble
beginnings, however there are as many processes as there are types. Consider the Roquefort: a blue cheese, aged in the Combalou caves in the South of France, given its name by the fungus it houses — Penicillium roqueforti. The texture is at once smooth and crumbling, and the taste, like having sex with an ex: a little bitter at first, yet creamy, and afterwards there are the remnants of something almost sweet. Not many of the things that we eat can evoke this kind of response.

Sex is a tricky topic to write about. Many a great writer has tried and sadly failed. So many, in fact, that the UK’s Literary Review has even created an award for Bad Sex in Fiction.

Yet whilst there’s nothing worse than the squeamish feeling one associates with reading an awful sex scene, there’s also no better feeling, than that which comes whilst reading a great one. Enter Anais Nin, the Grand Dame of erotic literature, who said, “Eroticism is one of the basic means of self-knowledge, as indispensable as poetry.”

Nin’s heyday was the bohemian life of Paris in the 30’s, where she had a passionate affair with fellow writer, Henry Miller. Evidently the liaison was inspirational and in the years that followed she began writing her erotic tales. Published as a collective in Little Birds and Delta of Venus, her stories examine lust, obsession, fantasy and desire through a variety of sexual encounters. Far from being perverse or pornographic however, her deftness with language and prose affirms her role as a true artiste.

As seen in The ART issue of Russh, August-September, 2010.

Michael Vandino makes his bed every morning. I know this because I called him on it after watching him hang his Sydney exhibition, That’s Cool But Can You Make It More Sh*t. Despite the haphazard, lo-fi aesthetic of his work, Vandino was meticulous in his approach to the presentation, carefully piecing together the hundred-plus pieces of paraphernalia, he had selected from the archives of his work for LCD Soundsystem and DFA Records. As well as admitting he was an “organised creative” (a rare breed), Vandino took time out to give me the low down on his company BUREAU™, and his work with one of the hottest record labels on the planet.

Read the rest of this interview here http://www.theblackmail.com.au/art/this-is-happening/

The world wide web has been taken by the storm that is JTL, or Johnny The Lad to those who don’t like to use acronyms. He is a man of wisdom, with a truckload of sneakers; and in his blog http://www.seasonofsneakers.com/ he cleverly combines the two.

Me: What motivated you to start your blog? 
JTL: Having more than enough shoes that I could easily wear a different pair each day for a whole season.
Me: Your blog has become much more than just about sneakers, was this always your intention?
JTL: This wasn’t my intention, I was expecting a question or two every few days but not this. The majority of questions aren’t even about sneakers, I can’t believe how many questions get asked.
Me: You’ve become something of a Modern Guru, have you considered talk back radio? Or doing an Agony Aunt style column in Cleo?
JTL: I haven’t considered this, but when winter 2010 comes to an end if there is some extra work out there that I could do i’d be interested, hit us up.
Me: What’s the hardest question you’ve been asked so far?
JTL: The Stones or The Beatles?
Me: What is your motto in life?
JTL: I did get asked this question before and said: just be yourself and don’t worry what other people think. But I’ll give you another one: what is life if you don’t have fun.
Me: What is the one talent you wish you had?
JTL: I wish I could dance like Michael Jackson.

I would rather be ashes than dust!
I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The function of man is to live, not to exist.
I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.

Jack London

This week I attended a close friend’s wedding, and had to give a speech. It was a baptism of fire – so to speak – into the world of public speaking, and it would be fair to say that I crashed and burned. Despite being quite prepared, it quickly became apparent that carefully planned content, does not equate to a crowd pleaser. The fathers of the bride and groom, along with the brothers of the happy couple, mopped the floor with my rookie attempt; so after reflecting on their tactics, I have put together some fail-safe tips on giving a speech at a wedding.

1. Talk about yourself.
This approach was taken by the brothers of both the bride and the groom. Apparently self depreciation is the best way to break the ice, and will make you come across as a stand-up human being.

2. Use comedy.
An obvious point to make, but one I managed to miss.

3.To take the heat off yourself, pick on a few members of the audience.
The opposite of heckling, whereby you heckle the crowd.

4. On the topic of heckling, strike up a deal with a few friends and ask them to make encouraging noises at regular intervals.
This is sort of like “shill bidding” at an auction, as the crowd are fooled into believing your speech is better than it really is.

5. It’s all about the finishing note.
The best way to finish is with a toast. Any excuse to knock one back, always goes down well.

6. Hide behind the microphone
Contrary to popular belief, speaking loudly into the microphone is better than having people call out at regular intervals – “Speak up.”