Six Scents

Video: Azuma Makoto & Alessandro Tinelli

Annually, a group of six prominent artists are selected to create a series of six fragrances with six celebrated perfumers in order to raise awareness and funding for a deserving charity. Collectively, diverse members of the creative world are invited to contribute and a global initiative is launched. The goal is to trigger momentum around each cause through creativity with a conscience.

Six Scents: Series Two
In collaboration with Givaudan, Six Scents Series Two explores the relationship between artist and nature through a collection of fragrances, stories, films, art and photography. Each experience intends to instigate the desire to preserve the environment of Six Scents so that others can continue to be inspired by the beauty, power and intrigue of nature. A portion of all proceeds will be donated to Pro-Natura in support of their environmental sustainability programs.

Six Scents Website

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Big Gulp

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Photos: Charles Bergquist
Music: Islands by The Xx
Short Story: Elizabeth Ellen

     We were drinking beer out of shot glasses on my kitchen floor. You were wearing your winter coat. You’d said you could only stay a minute.
     Another, you said. Another.
     The faster I poured, the faster you bottomed up.
     Whoa there. Easy, partner, I said.
     But you didn’t let up. You were really throwing them back.
     At some point it occurred to me it would be easier to hand you the can, but when I extended my arm you waved it away.
     There’s something to it, you said.
     To what?
     To the theory that it hits you harder this way, you said, grabbing my wrist and downturning it. In smaller sips.
     I’ve never heard that theory, I said. But it would explain a lot.

     An hour later you were still here, the cans lined like conquered countries on the floor between us. You were visibly sweating. You still refused to remove your coat.
     I can’t stay, you said. I’m going to leave soon.
     My left leg was already bridging the gap. I shifted all my weight onto it, elongating my right. Somewhere down below was you. All I had to do was lower.
     Whoa there, you said. Easy does it.
     My right thigh was in your hand. I hovered, waiting for your release.

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Here’s Where You

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Drawings: Esra Røise
Music: Geto Boys by Glass Candy
Short Story: Beth Thomas

Here’s where you tell me you’ll teach me how to inhale an old, fine wine off your flopping tongue. Here’s where you drop in another four quarters so the curtain stays up a minute longer.

Here’s me behind the glass: wink. Here’s me, all long arms and legs and ludicrous angles, wanton, coked-out, and pale. I am trashy and hungry and I need a good wash, but at least I am self-aware.

Before the next show, I drink a little Turkey and watch the eleven o’clock news. Ms. Luna pinches my arm and says, You got too many tattoos. They’re distracting, she says. I ask, What if I get tattoos of big black arrows pointing to my tits? I point to my rib cage, shoulders. Would that be better? I light a cigarette and change the channel. Ms. Luna tells me to go fuck myself.

Here’s me behind the glass again: twirl. And you say you’ll clean me up, take me to the opera, wash my hair in a bathtub after fucking me stupid six ways from Sunday. You have your hand down your pants. I look into your eyes, stick my finger in my mouth, past my tongue, down my throat, and mock throwing up all over the stage. I push the red button and the curtain falls.

Ms. Luna says she is tired of my shitty attitude and that I should just smile and slap my ass a little and be quiet about it. Here’s where I tell her to go fuck herself, and here is also where she fires me on the spot. She says, Clean out your locker, whore. Which is retarded because there are no lockers.

Outside beneath the bridge I smoke cigarettes and listen to the midnight hum of 18-wheelers on the I-40 and the comforting sirens of an ambulance rushing somewhere down into the valley to save a life. I wonder what is farther that way, south. I picture white-sand Mexican beaches and skinny little chicos selling warm beer for a quarter.

Under the street lamp, I stick out my thumb. It has been a long road to here. Here’s where you pull up and ask out the window, Where you headed? And I say, The country, someplace, maybe Mexico. And you say, Shit, baby, hop in. I’ll take you.

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Martyn Bal Spring/Summer 2010 COLLECTION

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Photos: Richard Stow

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Martyn Bal makes boyfriend-ready clothes. For Spring/Summer 2010 he offers up a capsule collection of effortlessly classic apparel that are the core of his aesthetic. What I love about this unembelished collection are the little details like the brushed cotton and the cut of the pleated pants. These little features give Bal’s pieces a sense of luxury without the glare. My favorites are definitely the leather jacket and buttoned sleeveless shirt.

Photographed by Richard Stow at Knebworth House, musician Eric Hassle provides the look for this season’s presentation.

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Lanvin Autumn/Winter 2010/11 Collection

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Photos: Vogue UK

Not gonna lie, this collection had me scratching my damn head at first glance. It’s obviously futuristic and apocalyptic, but it also conveys an image 10x tougher than the past Lanvin man, who I like to imagine permanently sitting in a plushly decorated room, sipping tea, and flipping through magazines. The presentation was a little too Rick Owens for me (and by that I’m only referring to the sterile white background). However, if you look at the details a little closer, that image is still there only under layers of frayed textiles, patches, and leather. Maybe it was the addition of the corset-like zipper belts that threw me off… or maybe it was the skinny headbands. Whatever the case, my initial confusion regarding the collection was due to Ossendrijver really pushing his established Lanvin-image to the very edge, successfully introducing new ideas while building off of a reliable base.

According to WWD, Elbaz said that the knitwear was “a protective shield” for the wearer… Yeah, I feel like everyone who creates a more “edgy” or street-style collection likes to refer to everything as metaphorical armor or a shield when they really are not. While the layers and intricate details do add more bulk, they’re still decidedly very Lanvin, and thus retain that ductile ease.

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