Subscribe to Port Magazine annually and receive each issue to your door.
Get PORT in printSubscribe to Port Magazine annually and receive each issue to your door.
Get PORT in print
Photography Angus Williams
Styling Georgia Thompson
Hairstylist Hiroshi Matsushita
Models Pete Golding at XDIRECTN, Robert Suthers at Tomorrow Is Another Day, Steve Fox at Tomorrow Is Another Day, Daniel courtesy of Ethan Price Casting, Bulent Mehmet courtesy of Ethan Price Casting
Casting Ethan Price
Styling Assistant Helly Pringle
This article is taken from Port issue 30. To continue reading, buy the issue or subscribe here
Photography Moritz Tibes
Styling Julie Velut
Set design Anna Barnett
Hairstyling Moe Mukai
Make up Grace Ellington
Models Shu at XDIRECTN, Teddy at XDIRECTN, Maude at The Hive Management, Alec at IMM
Casting FOUND Casting
This article is taken from Port issue 30. To continue reading, buy the issue or subscribe here
Photography Julien T. Hamon
Styling Lune Kuipers
Grooming Natsumi Ebiko using Oribe
Casting director Rama Casting
Models Francois Delacroix at The Claw Models and Leopold C. at Rock Men
Styling assistant Apolline Baillet
This article is taken from Port issue 29. To continue reading, buy the issue or subscribe here
Hermès’ Clamp Dye plaids pay tribute to their non-industrial origin
Florence Lafarge likens the undulating surface of woven fabrics to an “infinitely small form of architecture”. She had long been a champion of all things handmade when a fascination for cloth led to her specialising in textile design. “Weaving, warping, dyeing, printing, cutting, sewing, embroidering, colouring – all are universal gestures and languages,” Lafarge enthuses.
And so, once she had graduated from Paris art schools the École Boulle and École Duperré, she eventually worked for French designer Primrose Bordier. Doyenne of whimsically printed linens, Bordier had by then made history as the first female designer to be awarded the French Legion of Honour order in 1976. Lafarge left Bordier in 1998 to oversee the homeware business of Japanese designer Kenzo Takada as its style director. In 2009, she joined Hermès.
At the French house, Lafarge’s initial role came with a rather poetic sounding job title: as creative director of art de vivre, dreaming up the heritage brand’s collection of decorative objects (lacquer boxes painted by hand, paperweights and change trays) fell within her remit. “Art de vivre is a way of orchestrating objects in the home,” she explains.
Much like a conductor directing an orchestra, Lafarge today harmonises the work of a creative team, among them graphic designers, architects and illustrators. “It is a constant search for appropriate know-how, technical innovation, singularity, daring,” says Lafarge, who has since been appointed creative director of home textiles, furnishing fabrics and wallpapers. At the brand’s master ateliers, and when partnering with external workshops, she acts as a translator of sorts, concretising creative flights of fancy into products. She notes that, “I am the link between the idea and the realistic translation of the idea, the material realisation of the object.”
Most recently, Lafarge tasked expert makers in Nepal with realising a line of blankets crafted from hand-woven cashmere. “Natural materials such as cashmere are our first choice,” says Lafarge. “The care we take at each stage of its metamorphosis – spinning, weaving, dyeing, finishing – amazes with its beauty.” A labour-intensive technique to work cashmere, hand weaving was chosen to achieve a lightweight cloth that is cloud-like to the touch. The result is a choice of blankets that comes in six two-tone plaids. All are superimposed with stamp-like geometric prints, their striking shapes the result of traditional clamp dyeing.
A variant of reserve dyeing, when clamp dyeing, Nepalese artisans pinch, fold and tuck Hermès’ cashmere cloth, which is then tightly clamped between purpose-carved and moulded pieces of wood. Once this wooden reserve is in place, the bundled fabric is submerged in liquid dye and left to soak. “When unfolded, the fabric reveals the replica of the pattern made by the reserved shape,” Lafarge clarifies, outlining the method’s final step.
The blankets’ designs pay tribute to their non-industrial origin, finding timeless beauty in simplicity and the artisan’s hand. Christened Géranium, a warm orange tone is emblazoned with rectangles arranged in three neat lines of five. Gris perle – a pale grey hue that has become something of an Hermès speciality – features a sextet of pale squares; Bougainvillier – a rich magenta hue – is contrasted with pale circles; an impressionistic letter ‘H’ is spelled against a Bleu de Nîmes background of deep azure. Then, there is Emeraude, a gem-like green tone interspersed with two lines of criss-crosses, while elsewhere a yellow Maïs base with red plaid grid also features a pattern of fantastical shapes.
At Hermès, blankets count among the brand’s pillars. For an example, look no further than its best-loved Rocabar throw: Its striped motif inspired by 19th-century racehorse blankets pays tribute to Hermès’ equestrian heritage and its 1837 beginnings as a harness workshop. “All our fabrics are exceptional, whether printed, dyed or embroidered,” says Lafarge. “Nothing is left to chance. Every step in the creation of a textile is guided by beauty, timelessness, contemporaneity and accuracy.”
Photography Benjamin Swanson
Styling Paulina Piipponen
This article is taken from Port issue 28. To continue reading, buy the issue or subscribe here
Hermès’ iconic silk scarf takes a great leap forward
It is said that the Chinese empress Xi Ling-shi discovered silk by accident. A silkworm cocoon fell into her tea, heat slowly unwrapping the fine thread until it could stretch across her garden. The latest from Hermès, by contrast, is the result of a decade of deliberate, closely guarded innovation. A world-first feat in printing, its new silk-twill scarf bears artwork on either side by designer and graphic artist Dimitri Rybaltchenko, a technical leap forward from last season’s offering of two opposing colours. “It is magical and poetic to offer two choices, two atmospheres, two designs, two stories,” notes Christophe Goineau, creative director of men’s silk. “Astonish and surprise – this has always been the hallmark of the men’s silk scarf. It’s the Abracadabra moment!”
The iconic carré (square) scarf was introduced by Hermès in 1937, exactly a century after it was established as a harness and bridle workshop. Expanding from its equestrian leatherwork, the French luxury house used strong silk and an intricate drawing by family member Robert Dumas for its first design. In the following decade they were painstakingly drawn and dyed by hand, the engraving and silk-screening achieved with woodblocks. This technique was eventually replaced by a traditional method pioneered in its Pierre-Bénite workshops, near Lyon, meticulously printing each colour frame by frame. Made from the silk of 300 moth cocoons, hems hand-rolled and stitched, a single scarf can take two years to finish.
Designs – of which there have been over two thousand – are complex and colourful, revolving around mythology, cartography, flora and fauna. Styled in myriad forms, figures such as Queen Elizabeth II, Jackie Kennedy Onassis and Grace Kelly (who famously used hers as a sling after she broke her arm) have become synonymous with the accessory. While a men’s line was introduced comparatively recently in 2004, both sexes have enjoyed the androgynous versatility of the scarf since its inception.
Rybaltchenko’s dual story of driving a vintage or Formula 1 car – Formule chic – is a rush of motion and muted green, burgundy and teal. Anchored by the first-person perspective, they are rich and detailed universes that speak to the brand’s convergence of man, machine, precision and speed. “Innovation is the result of constantly renewed creativity,” says Goineau. “For us, it means supporting the momentum and spontaneity of creation while remaining faithful to our history. It is the perpetual movement of the soul of the house.”
This article is taken from issue 27. To buy the issue or subscribe, click here
Photography Misha Taylor
Styling Rose Forde
Hair and makeup Hiroshi Matsushita using Oribe Hair Care
Casting Leila Hartley
Photography assistants Pedro Mendes Faria and Aurèle Ferrero
Styling assistants Christina Phillips and Charlotte Dunn
Models Rishi Robin at Rebel Management and Ninan Thomas at Premier
This article is taken from issue 24. To buy the issue or subscribe, click here
Over the past 200 years, Hermès has grown from an equine accessories company to be an icon of savoir-faire and luxury, but the company has not forgotten its roots, as Susanne Madsen discovers at an annual celebration of saddles, show jumping and sport horses in Paris
The annual Saut Hermès in Paris sets the bar high for showjumping competitions: at 1.60 metres, for the grand prix showpiece finale, to be precise. Here, the world’s most talented riders glide over fences held by stands that form a Hermèsian ‘H’, on a course laid out under the vast glass nave of the Grand Palais, the smell of sawdust and horse filling the air. Winners parade in orange blankets to cool down, there’s a pony riding area for children; Shetlands, in matching ginger hues, and spectators can browse an immaculately curated equestrian bookshop. Like everything in the French maison, it’s all just-so but not too much.
“The Saut is special,” notes Simon Delestre. The French showjumper, Olympian and Hermès partner rider has just finished his morning warm-up and is sitting backstage, where, just off the Champs-Élysées, stables have been erected and an orange carpet rolled out for the four-legged superstars. Across a manicured lawn, Delestre’s top mount, Hermès Ryan, is relaxing ahead of the competition. A strapping chestnut gelding with astronomical prize winnings to his name, Ryan, of course, wears head-to-toe Hermès, from his crochet fly veil to the bespoke saddle.
There’s an old saying ‘No foot, no horse’, to denote the importance of healthy hooves, but similarly, you could say ‘No saddle, no jumping’. A saddle is a crucial and required instrument, not least for showjumpers who have to jump with their mount by standing up in stirrups, allowing their horse to properly use its back and helping it sail effortlessly over massive fences.
Having the wrong saddle is akin to doing an Ironman in shoes three sizes too small. The right saddle is the difference between playing a Chopin nocturne well, and playing it exquisitely. Both horse and rider need to be comfortable so their bodies can work as one.
“The saddle is really the interface between the horse and the rider,” explains Laurent Goblet, master saddler at Hermès. “I want to make that interface disappear… for there to be no constraint, basically. And it should be well made so it’s long lasting, and pleasant to look at: It gives that additional element to the function.”
Under the roof of 24 rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, the Hermès saddlery team work in rooms flooded by sunlight, crafting some 500 saddles a year in black, Havana or natural calf leather, cowhide and buffalo. A long running joke at the house – founded in 1837 by Thierry Hermès, who originally made horse harnesses for carriages – is that the horse was the company’s first customer. It remains a regular if rather demanding client.
Each saddle is made by only one saddler. “The fact that you’re making it from beginning to end is very gratifying. And it makes the craftsman responsible for his work. When you finish a piece you’re happy. It’s like a baby,” muses artisan saddler Vincent Leopold with a chuckle. Centuries-old techniques, such as the use of tapestry nails instead of staples and cotton canvas straps inside the seat, are still used alongside the state-of-the-art: carbon fibre saddletrees, the ‘skeleton’ of the saddle, which at Hermès is sized for each individual horse using a tool that gives hundreds of measurements to replicate the horse’s back.
“Before, 40 or 50 years ago, if the saddle didn’t hurt the horse, fine – it was up to the rider to know how to ride well. Now, more and more, it has become about ergonomics, for horse and rider,” Goblet notes, his office packed to the rafters with the saddletree prototypes that he crafts himself. For 40 years he has been in pursuit of the perfect saddle.
“Based on the previous model we learn the shortcomings. But you also have to be careful when you remove something, that it doesn’t change the good parts. It’s a very holistic process.”
True to the timeless yet unconventional spirit of the house, he might add a bold red stitch to a dressage saddle, to trace the outline of the leg – as he did with the Arpège, developed in collaboration with top German dressage rider Jessica von Bredow-Werndl. “In the design, I include the function. I don’t do design for the sake of design.” His work on a saddle for dressage – the discipline that involves ‘dancing’ with the horse – may now even inspire a hitherto unseen jump saddle. “I love dressage because I learned a lot. It’s a complicated discipline.” The saddle, he says, will be the result of 40 years of work and reflection.
“I’m a saddler but I’m also an artisan. That’s the magic, when you can actually make something that is artistic and beautiful and at the same time high-tech. If you have these elements you can make miracles,” he smiles. On his wall are pictures of a young Goblet riding racehorses. “I was born in Chantilly, and Chantilly is the city of racehorses in France.” His love for horses, coupled with “the desire to work by hand, to work with leather”, led him to a career as a saddler, coming to Hermès as an apprentice. “And soon I’ll be retiring!”
Riders can choose from different models, which can then be customised further: the angle one’s leg sits at, padding or no knee padding, foams for seat firmness, a flat or curved seat. For an average saddle, 40 pieces are assembled using the original Hermès saddle-stitch, which also adorns bags and accessories – a technique done by hand, requiring two needles that lock a thread by working in opposite directions, giving unmatched solidity. It’s a process that can take anywhere between 25 and 60 hours to complete, depending on the client’s requests. In true artisan spirit, Leopold’s favourite saddle is the one that involves the most steps to complete: the Oxer.
He pulls out a leather-bound book dated 1927 to 1937 from a glass cabinet that holds journals containing details of every order placed with Hermès saddlers since 1909. “The number of the saddle, the name of the customer, the measurements of the saddle and the materials used – it’s all here. Every week I use it for repairs after sales, to remake a customer’s favourite saddle from the 1950s or simply for a customer who may have got a saddle from his family and wants to know about it. In two minutes, we can find the information.” Recently, the team repaired a side-saddle from 1929, changing only safety-related pieces such as straps. The saddle itself was still in beautiful condition.
It takes two to three years before a saddler can work independently on the different house models. The hand-stretched calfskin across the seat is especially tricky. “The feeling, the touch is vital – it’s difficult to explain when it’s too tense or if it’s not stretched enough. It takes a lot of practice,” Leopold says, noting that it becomes almost intuitive.
It’s a sentiment echoed by Delestre when he speaks about jumping. “You have to have the feeling with horses,” he reflects. “When you are skilled, and your technique is OK, it’s the feeling that makes the difference.”
For Delestre, this always means putting the horse first. If, using his experience and intimate connection with his mount, he senses that something is off during a morning warm up, but no one else can find anything wrong “you don’t jump, because something bad will happen. That makes all the difference between jumping one round and jumping for six years.” As if on cue, a horse somewhere kicks out loudly at the stable wall. “It’s not mine,” he says, with a relieved smile. “It doesn’t break my heart directly.”
Equestrian sport, like high fashion, may seem like a leisure class pursuit for the privileged few, but it is also a blood, sweat and tears affair. “For us, horses are a way of life,” Delestre says. “We go from show to show, we live with them every day, every hour, and we have to be wary of everything, because, with horses, every morning and every night, something will go wrong. That’s life with horses.”
Delestre rides in the Caval, a saddle he developed with Laurent Goblet’s expertise which allows him to be very close to the horse and have his leg quite fixed. “It’s special, what I have with Hermès – it’s a close and honest relationship. We really help each together, to do the best for the horses, but also to always have a view of the future.”
Goblet has seen and facilitated a lot of change throughout his 40-year career. But while the horse’s role has changed from a worker – for war, agriculture, transport – to an athlete, equipped with sporty gear, one thing remains the same: the main material used. “We haven’t found anything better than leather to make saddles. We tried jersey, for example, but leather takes the shape, it fits to the rider. It’s beautiful. It’s not this cold, inanimate material; it’s warm,” he says, playing with a piece of calfskin.
Delestre speaks with the same love about his vocation. “Jumping is different. You can feel the power of the horse – a power that is difficult to conceive of, and with every horse you have a different feeling. You have to make the right choice for the horses. You have to work on a horse six, seven years to bring it to [grand prix] level; so if you take it for one wrong ride, you work for six years and then you can do nothing.”
As a rider, you’re a horse trainer and a bit of an equine psychologist, then? Delestre laughs. “Yeah, we have to think for them. You try to feel how they are, to think how they think, to explain why they have this reaction instead of another one. And when you have the right explanation it becomes easy.”
Hence the crucial role of the right saddle. For horse and rider to feel as one, nothing should complicate their symbiotic relationship, especially when every showjumping course is different – planned by a course designer whose job it is to thoroughly test riders and horses at the level they’re competing. Communication and timing is everything. A rider will take into account distances between fences depending on whether their horse has a big, ground-covering stride or takes smaller steps; if it’s hot-headed, or capable of making very small turns, that will save time.
While Delestre and Ryan are clearly in a league of their own as athletes, their attention to detail – from training and care to the bespoke Hermès saddle that brings their bodies and minds together – is a joy to behold. Three days after our conversation, Delestre and Hermès Ryan soar to victory in the grand prix finale among 48 other riders as the first French combination to win the prestigious class. “He’s a big, big fighter – Ryan,” Delestre beams. “He likes the shows. He has an incredible mentality. He’s really a special horse.”
Photography Cian Oba-Smith
This article is taken from issue 23. To buy the issue or subscribe, click here.
Port‘s fashion editor picks the best looks from the Paris Spring Summer 2019 shows
Paris was hot, the schedule cramped and the calibre of designers high. Conversion centred on the clash of titans: Kim Jones v Virgil Abloh – Jones, the fashion darling’s master craftsman, launched his debut at Dior, and Abloh, the self-made cult figure of streetwear, did the same at Louis Vuitton. Very good friends, both have the press, celebrity appeal, and the power to drive menswear in two very different directions – Kim pushing towards couture and Abloh humbling luxury fashion by including it in a wider cultural conversation.
Dior – LOOK 35
The much anticipated debut collection from Kim Jones delivered in abundance; a breathtakingly chic parade of soft pinks, blues, tans and whites that took form in a diverse range of suiting, shorts, shirts and beautifully crafted coats and jackets. Models circled a towering cartoon-like floral sculpture created by Dior collaborator and New York street artist, KAWS. The giant ‘BFF’ companion mascot seemed triumphant as it heralded a new dawn for the elevation of both menswear and Dior Homme. Accomplishing his self-assigned mission to translate “feminine couture identity into a masculine idiom”, here Jones transcends the simple overcoat with a weightless transparency and florals sculpted from feathers. True luxury.
Hermès – LOOK 48
While remaining true to the brand’s luxury codes, Hermès’s long-standing designer Veronique Nichanian added subtle touches of streetwear and splashes of bold colour to bring the house up to date with modern trends for Spring Summer 19. Set in the historic Cloître des Cordeliers courtyard on breezy Saturday evening, with Hermes’ crisp white laundry hanging on lines overhead, models sauntered by nonchalantly, as if holidaying on the French Rivera. The fabrics remained luxury and the collection, on the whole, effortless, but the inclusion of season highlights such as the use of yellow and, in this look, the headline making ‘short’ short, proved the continued relevance of the brand.
Dunhill – LOOK 25
Continuing to shake things up in his second year at the creative helm of the British heritage brand, Mark Weston presented a collection that was elegant, fluid and subversive. The arched passageway of the Jacques-Decour private school was the perfect backdrop for this lesson in modern tailoring, with Weston questioning “notions of taste and aspiration, particularly those related to certain ideas of British clothing cultures” with looks designed to blur class boundaries – in this instance a sublime suit wore shirtless to increase its street credibility.
Loewe – LOOK 17
Jonathan Anderson wanted to tell ‘intimate stories of bohemian life’ through his SS19 collection of oversized knits, casual linens, and hippy-like, eccentric prints, which included the surprise motif of Disney favourite Dumbo. The presentation style was as laid-back as the collection: models rotated, clothes were hung so the tactile fabrics could be touched, and brightly coloured pom-poms covered the floor playfully. The collection was accompanied by images of the models casually placed in and around an empty Madrid mansion – painting, musing or relaxing, and continuing this idea of romanticised decadence. Ready-to-wear was of course accompanied by leather bags, the origin of the Loewe brand – in this look, a practical butter-soft brown rucksack that perfectly compliments a sun-bleached effect tie-dyed shirt and short combo.
Louis Vuitton – LOOK 37
The fashion industry waited with bated breath for Virgil Abloh’s debut at Louis Vuitton, eager to see how the streetwear giant would translate his urban style into a luxury product. As if symbolic of Abloh’s meteoric rise, the seemingly endless rainbow runway in the Jardin du Palais Royal gave a sense of optimism and change. A parade of all-white tailoring – neat jackets and shirts teamed with relaxed over-sized trousers – was followed by Abloh’s familiar territory of technical wear, harnesses, flashes of neon and bold colours, including this red look: sportswear-influenced in its silhouette yet elevated by styling and an elegant brown leather trench.
Illustration Jayma Sacco
Perfumer Barnabé Fillion on about his latest collaboration with Aesop, the influence of photography on his work, and going to work with the flu
Barnabé Fillion never set out to be a perfumer. Having trained and worked as a photographer, he became interested in exploring other fields and collaborated with architects, poets and botanists before eventually meeting a perfume maker. It would make a huge impression on him. “They became such a strong source of inspiration for me,” Fillion tells me from Paris, where he currently lives and works. “From that point on, my passion has always been to learn more about the olfactory world.”
The process of creating a perfume is deeply personal and intimately connected with memory. As an apprentice under Christine Nagel, the nose for Hermès, Fillion had to learn to identify over 3,000 different scents and says, incredibly – having produced fragrances for a number of different brands – that he can still go to work when he has the flu.
“When I’m in the process of designing a fragrance, I don’t necessarily need to smell at all points,” he explains. “It’s much more important to be able to stimulate memory.” And although he adds the caveat that his job would, of course, be impossible without any sense of smell, interestingly everyone has an inability to smell certain ingredients: “I have some friends who don’t smell cedar, for example, and there are certain musk scents that I don’t smell as much as my colleagues will. It just goes to show how subjective the art of fragrance making can be.”
For Hwyl, his second collaboration with Australian luxury skincare brand Aesop, Fillion drew inspiration from the Koh-do, the Japanese incense ceremony from the Edo period, which he describes as a “sophisticated game that creates a sort of alphabet of smell”. Fillion wished to capture the multi-sensory emotions conjured up by walking in an ancient Japanese forest, “the rich aromas of wood, smoke and moss; the minerality of the water running over stones; the vivid silence of the forest; the inexpressible texture of nature…”
In offering such a description of the fragrance, it is clear that a visual aspect to Fillion’s approach remains from his experience as a photographer. “I’m not sure whether I see an image when I begin making a perfume, or whether that image forms during the process,” he explains. “But most of the time, after I’ve finished, I always have the impression that I have been running after that one particular image.”
Photography (bottle) Robin Broadbent
This is an extract from issue 21 of Port, out now. To buy or subscribe, click here.
The latest issue of Port is out now, featuring our interview with the inimitable Steve Buscemi, a focus on the Royal Gold medal winning architect Neave Brown, and much more…
“He kicks ass, man. His range is incredible”, so remarked Jeff Bridges to Port recently. And it’s true: Steve Buscemi does kick ass. But he also knows how to walk the line between multiple different guises. He’s an industry grandee, with cult status; an arthouse movie darling, and a blockbuster powerhouse. When Port met one of the most nuanced actors of his generation in a quiet bar in Brooklyn, we received a masterclass in maintaining a successful yet steady life.
Hollywood action hero, TV mobster and art-house loser Steve Buscemi sits down with award-winning author Charles Bock to discuss playing Nikita Khrushchev in the upcoming The Death of Stalin, his addiction to watching classic movies on TCM, the vanity of the movie business, and his newfound passion for yoga.
Over in the Style section, our Miami Noir editorial – styled by Dan May and shot by Greg Lotus – features a sharp selection of menswear from Emporio Armani, while a series styled by Will Johns features a range of Hermès accessories elegantly interspersed with scenes from a Sussex village. Elsewhere, we offer our take on the hottest men’s outerwear of the season, and mingle casual menswear with dramatic botanical images.
In the features section, sailor Alex Thomson reflects on his experience of the Vendée Globe, a grueling, round-the-world solo yacht race, and the most demanding of its kind on the planet. Will Wiles reflects on the career of one of the last surviving proponents of brutalist architecture, Neave Brown, who was recently awarded the highly coveted Royal Gold Medal; and photographer Elliott Verdier travels to the remote central Asian republic of Kyrgyzstan to capture an ex-Soviet state struggling to find a national identity in a globalised world.
Acclaimed novelist and playwright Hanif Kureishi explores the connection between drugs and countercultural movements, while Alain de Botton muses on that million dollar-question: what is the relationship between capital and contentment, and what can banks tell us about the psychology of money? Conflict photographer Giles Duley unravels the ethics of photography in documenting a violent world, while Steven Johnson considers the ramifications of communication with life beyond Earth.
Highlights from the Porter include 108 Garage chef Chris Denney’s celebration of the versatile Japanese seaweed kombu; a focus on the life and work of Soviet Constructivist Vavara Stepanova; and a conversation between Mozambican author Mia Couto and his protégé, Brazilian author and translator Julián Fuks.
To buy a single issue or to subscribe, click here
