Mediaboss Marketing

London Fashion Week live stream>/noframes<

DAY 2: SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 15

On the schedule today: 9am Jasper Conran/ 10am Emilio de la Morena/ 10.30am Dominic Jones/ 11am Holly Fulton/ 12pm Emilia Wickstead/ 1pm John Rocha/ 1.30pm Markus Lupfer/ 2pm Sibling/ 2.30pm Antipodium/ 3pm Newgen/ 4pm J.W. Anderson/ 4pm Phoebe English/ 5pm Lucas Nascimento/ 5.30pm Joseph/ 6.30pm Belstaff/ 7pm House of Holland/ 8pm Julien Macdonald

ORIGAMI VIBES AT J.W. ANDERSON

ANTIPODIUM'S ARMOUR The green Encyclopedia Britannica possibly got it's first ever fashion reference today, courtesy of Antipodium and its 'digital culture becomes millennial muse' themed show. Times New Roman was the title of the collection, and as such the girls were modern-day centurions, ready for battle in natty pleated skorts, shift dresses and a healthy dose of Chenille (so Nineties). The palette of lava orange, burnished bronze and stony grey kept the ancient Roman theme flowing, as did the collaged print of a Roman bust that kept popping up. Feather-lashed T-bar heels with slouchy mud-coloured socks accessorised every girl, and fast made their way onto many a wish-list. It's certainly clear to see why creative director Geoffrey Finch has recently been snapped up as a consultant by Topshop - he's bang on when it comes to knowing what the cool girls want as their sartorial armour. Bibby Sowray

CLOTHES THAT WOMEN WILL WANT TO WEAR AT 1205

#YouKnowItsFashionWeekWhen PR teams underestimate the size of our bottoms... Photo: Instagram/carrietyler

VIRGINIA WOOLF BEAUTY AT J.W. ANDERSON Led by one of LFW's hottest beauty team we've seen yet (Aaron de May for MAC and Anthony Turner for L'Oreal Professional) this hair and make-up was inspired by Virginia Woolf. "Make-up is fragile and super, super clean, almost anti-cosmetic, using imperceptible concealer, as if a make-up artist hasn't been near their faces," explained de May. For hair, Turner explained how this was J.W. Anderson's version "of a mad woman.This hair was once set, but now she's lost her mind and her ponytail looks just a little bit destroyed. You get the impression there's a lady in there somewhere, but she's just gone a little bit mad."

SIBLING HEADS TO THE RIVIERA

WHOOPS A DAISY Just when we thought we were going to have another addition to our aptly titled 'Models falling over' gallery, this Sibling lady managed to regain her composure. Rather, as the Twitter sphere furiously shouted 'TAKE THEM OFF', she complied and removed the pesky shoes, which (to be honest) didn't even look that high.

Read this article:
London Fashion Week autumn/winter 2014 blog

Id heard many travellers tales about Fiji. The majority had echoed the typical backpacker island theme hungover and too much sunbaking poolside before starting the cycle again in the cocktail bar at sunset.

Now dont get me wrong, Im all for lazy afternoons in the sun, and Pina Colada is actually my middle name. However, I wasnt after a token island-party holiday.I was searching for a real Fijian experience, one that wouldnt fade with my hangover.

At certain times in life, research and preparation really pays off. School exams are one such time, but I wasnt intending on studying anything but coral reefs and coconuts. I was planning to travel Fiji like a local, experience the culture first-hand, and get way off the beaten track.

The small island of Beqa (pronounced Bengga) had already been researched by my boyfriend for its untouched beauty and, more importantly, notorious surf break at nearby Frigates Passage. Covering an area of just 36km, situated 7.5km south of Navua, the closest town on the Fijian island of Viti Levu, there are just nine villages on Beqa, each with a population of about 200 people.

So, after my pre-requisites were added, our search results delivered us an ace beachhouse. Owned and managed by local Fijian-Swiss couple Sam and Christine, the beach house has its own wonderful little beach with world-class coral reefs on its doorstep.

The accommodation ranged from camping to private Fijian-style bures just metres from the shore. This was the place wed been looking for tropical island bliss at an affordable price.

Stepping off the plane, I inhaled my first breath of sweet, warm Fijian air. Nadi (pronounced Nandy) airport was miniscule in comparison to any Id seen before, only one storey high with a few narrow runways lined with tall palm trees.

The rolling green hills were dotted with small basic houses, cows were randomly roaming the fields, and greeting us off the tarmac were three serenading Fijians in bright blue Hawaiian shirts. The smiling trio swayed in unison as they strummed tiny ukuleles, their harmonic melody carrying throughout the airport. Welcome to Fiji.

After a long rickety bus ride from Nadi, down through the lush green countryside to Pacific Harbour, we boarded an old brightly-coloured boat to take us across to Beqa Island.

The afternoon sunshine was dancing on the sparkling Pacific as our boat finally pulled up to the sandy beachfront of Lawaki Beach House, Beqa Island. Owners Sam and Christine were waiting on the shore and waded in up to their knees to help us unload our bags and disembark onto the soft sand.

Read the rest here:
Found in Fiji: Good surf and snorkel spots and warm-hearted locals

Composer, performer, listener. They're what Benjamin Britten once called the "Holy Trinity", the three cornerstones of the musical experience. But we only ever hear about the first two.

Look at the music section of any bookstore, and what you see are rows of books on the people who compose music, and on the people who play it. They are the stars of the show, whose names go ringing down the centuries. Hardly anyone writes about listeners, and yet their story should be told as well, because it's the listeners who complete the musical experience. Their thoughts and feelings are like the blossom at the apex of the rose, or the pleasure the diner gets from all that effort and careful artistry in the kitchen. However, there's a problem with telling the listeners' story.

What composers and performers do is reassuringly solid. They produce musical works, written down on paper, and performers use crafted objects - such as pianos and violins and synthesizers - to bring them to life.

Supporting their efforts is a huge infrastructure of concert halls and publishers and radio stations. Much of this still exists, and those parts which have vanished have left traces behind. So its story can be told. What the listener contributes (apart from buying a ticket) are vast swarms of fleeting thoughts and feelings. Just imagine the thousands or even millions of mental responses generated by one concert. Here the traces are harder to find. They lurk in letters and diaries and oral histories and blogs. There's a further complication, which is that the listener came only late on the scene. For most of human history, music existed to crystallise the meaning of an occasion. Imagine a Corpus Christi procession, or a military march, or a rave in an Ibiza club.

Only a few people are actually making the musical sounds, and their meaning doesn't arise only from the sounds themselves. It arises in some mysterious way from the interaction of the sounds and the social occasion that goes with them. For millennia, this was how music functioned in society. There were no passive onlookers; everyone took part, even if it was only to bow before the Duke as he made his grand entrance during the overture. But little by little, music started to prise itself away from the grip of social function, and go its own way. When that happens, music develops a new, unheard-of luxuriance and complication.

Composers no longer have to think about the dance steps, or the needs of the occasion. They can just indulge their fascination with abstract pattern. And when that happens, music can't be "taken as read", as something that just goes along with the occasion. It has to be understood, and something which needs to be understood can also be misunderstood, whereas the idea of someone misunderstanding a funeral march, when everyone is dressed in black and walking solemnly in step, seems inconceivable. Such a massive change couldn't happen overnight.

Music's first steps into freedom were very tentative, and hardly free at all. In the 1620s and 1630s in Germany, a custom arose of having musical entertainments at the end of a church service. Something similar happened at those new churches built in Italy to fight off the Protestant menace, called oratories. In both cases the music had a definite sacred flavour, and it took decades before these fledging concerts took off and lost their aura of a musical sermon.

At the opposite pole were the tavern concerts given in Fleet Street in London in the 1680s. We're told French-style orchestral music was played there, but it would be wishful thinking to imagine these were concerts in our sense. It's more likely the music was perceived as a pleasingly fashionable and elegant accompaniment to pipe-smoking and chatter about the Jacobite threat. It was in the 18th and early 19th centuries that the practice of listening really took off. It was one of the ways the new emerging middle class defined itself, along with coffee houses, monthly journals and learned societies.

The tavern concerts moved into more salubrious surroundings, and musical societies were formed, some with a definite taste for classic "ancient" music, rather than whatever happened to be fashionable at the time. Towards the end of the 18th century the subscription series, purchasable as a package, came into being, an idea still with us today. Later in the 19th century many of these societies shook off their amateur status and became professional orchestras, some of them creating handsome new concert halls in which to perform.

All this we know about, in great detail. What we know very little about is what the listeners at these new public events were actually thinking and feeling. It's a tantalising question, because any new cultural form tends to produce a certain confusion. Think how puzzled people were when cinema came on the scene. They were used to live theatre, and the idea of "cross-fading" one scene with another must have been bewildering. The same must have been true of concerts.

Go here to see the original:
How did we learn to listen to music?

Much of the basis behind the current state of DJing and electronic dance music came from the first generations of raves. Starting with a Roland TB-303 in Chicago, growing to undergrounds in the UK, and creating all manner of subgenres along the way, the story of the rave scene and the DJs who built it is fascinating. Check out the full story inside, including an exclusive interview with the father of acid house, DJ Pierre.

Raves began as an underground movement, where a group of like-minded people would get together and dance (in an enhanced state of consciousness) to all types of electronic music. Raves created a magical environment where people could dance for hours. Rave was foundedon groundbreaking electronica and innovative DJs, but the scene encompassed more than just that. Laser lights, fashion and open-minded attitudes helped to build and spread the scene. It was only natural that a movement so magical would grow to epic proportions.

Rave:An all-nightdancepartyfilled with electronic dance music (techno,trance,drum and bass)

The Roland TB-303

Chicago in the mid-to-late 1980s was the birth place of house music. After years of jacking a new sound emerged: acid house. The sound of acid house was created on the Roland TB-303, a bass line generator. The machine could sculpt sounds using an array of buttons and switches. The company only produced 20,000 units and by 1985 could be found in second-hand shops for bargain prices. The young Nathan Jones (DJ Pierre) found one and used the 303 in an unconventional way to produce the squelchy sound of acid house.

This new sound began witha record produced by Phuture, a group founded by DJ Pierre, Earl Spanky Smith Jr., and Herbert Herb J Jackson. Newly turned on to the unique sounds of the TB-303, the trio released a demo of Acid Tracks.

DJ Ron Hardy played the track at the famous Chicago club Music Box; he reportedly once played it four times during a set before the crowd responded favorably. After numerous spins, it became a dance floor sensation.Acid Tracks became the defining sound for the new acid house sound coming out of Chicago.

Our exclusive quick interview with DJ Pierre:

Where did you find the TB-303 that you produced Acid Tracks on? What inspired you to create the legendary acid house sound?

DJ Pierre: It found us!This machine had been around for years [...] before we got to it no one actually tweaked the knobs and used it the way we did. It was created to simulate a bass guitar. It was not created to do what it did when we got a hold of it. I was at my homie Jasper Gs house and I heard a bass line and I wanted to know what machine he used to make the bassline. I loved the texture of it. I was excited when I heard it.

See original here:
History of the Rave Scene: How DJs Built Modern Dance Music ...

13: The Rave Continues

Mara and Julie left on the third day, and I moved back to Playa den Bossa into the former bachelor pad of one of the biggest resort owners. I was in a studio penthouse with a huge balcony that boasted a 360-degree view of the ocean and island. It also sported a jacuzzi tub surrounded by windows and a waterbed and bar. The possibilities hmmm

I found my NY friends at the beach and they offered to let me crash at their place for a couple of days, which was good cause I was spending a months budget in just three days. They had a gorgeous seafront condo with 3 bedrooms and two baths (again the damn saltwater though), and I and another stray they found slept in the living room and on the huge balcony. This other stray, wholl remain nameless to protect his journalism career, is a reporter for a prestigious United States news magazine, and lets just say that after watching this guy party, Ill think twice each time I read a news report in this magazine again!

The NYers were total rave scene veterans, regulars at the recently closed Twilo in NY. They had the clothes, the attitude and body glitter in every conceivable color. Not only could they dance and had liquid like pros, they were quite accomplished in the drug scene too. Open drug use in Ibiza is pretty much the norm: people on the beach make bongs out of their water bottles, chant the constant mantra of wanna buy some hash? and then there is the perpetually happy, Ecstasy-induced looks on the faces of 90% of the islands population. But these guys could have won an award. Actually, one guy in particular was the winner. Sal by day a vice president for a known NY firm by night, Fu*&ed Up Man. One day/night that I was there he took 6 hits of E/X, coke, hash and K a popular club drug called Ketamin, known in pharmaceutical circles as a cat sedative and curiously enough sold over the counter in Spain. Then again, this is the same country that sells absinthe

And guess who got the job of taking care of Sal? At one point during the night he lost his voice and then started freaking out about all the people in the club. Later I lost him in the bathroom. When he didnt come out I sent in a security guard to look for the half-naked guy with gold glitter all over him. The guard returned saying hes fine hes just dancing in front of the mirror

Then there was one of the girls who hit a K Hole, essentially a bad K experience. When she emerged about 45 minutes later from her heads-down trance-like state, she said she was seeing distorted images of her friend Ted (who was stroking her hair and whispering calming things to her the entire time), seeing his face melt and stretch out, she felt like she was in snow and couldnt distinguish reality from fantasy and understood that, which made her panic and think she was crazy. Fun drug.

In five days we hit all the top clubs Privilege, Amnesia, Pacha and El Divino, with a quick stop in Space (which I wish I had spent more time in). I was in dancing heaven. Even the grocery store played house music! But after five days with an average of 3 hours sleep per day, plus the outrageous prices (US$25-$50 to get into the clubs) were overwhelming my wallet, my body and my mind and I know I had to leave or get sucked under. So I escaped to Barcelona for some peace and quiet. Or so I thought

Questions? If you want more information about this area you can email the author or check out our Europe Insiders page.

Go here to see the original:
#13 The Rave Continues – Ibiza – Diary of a Single Girl ...