Branding and Conversation, or Who Is Really Enthusiastic About Social Media?

I posted recently about the Social Media Cafe in Manchester, and by the look of it one of the members is about to start a blog. From where I and a few pals stand, things looks bright for Social Media and its use in Manchester, as elsewhere. But there are yet too many hurdles to overcome. Whilst my journalist friends are looking at the use of Social Media tools in the traditional media, I decided to narrate the two experiences I have recently had in dealing with an art depository and a fashion network’s event. In the light of this experience, Manchester has got a lot to improve.

-1-

It’s been twice in the space of November that I had to deal with the rather suspicious attitude to Social Media, and blogging in particular. First, I went to one of Manchester’s major museums where it turned out that I needed to fill out a photography permission form. I know the collection well: I have been visiting the museum since 2002; a lot of paintings displayed there are in the “knowledge minimum” for the History of Art, which I do know well, being an historian; and, most importantly, I can access many, if not all of them, online, either via the gallery’s website or via several online museums.

The pictures I wanted to take were therefore not “for personal study purposes”: for those purposes I can browse the images online, or read a specialist monograph. I wanted to take the photos of paintings as they are in the gallery space, in frames, among other works, possibly with the visitors standing in front of them. The photos would be uploaded to Flickr and used on my Arts and Culture blog, to tell my visitors about the collection.

Some of you may already be asking themselves: who would need that, if the gallery has got a website? This is a good question. My answer is: the gallery’s website does not provide a feel of the collection. I see my duty as a blogger to tell precisely about this side of the museum, rather than some well-known facts, and for that I need pictures of the gallery space. As a visitor, I am empowered by a few means to make the gallery collection appear more vibrant and appealing to prospective visitors – and I don’t ask to be paid for it.

Update: I have been given a permission to use the photographs after I showed which ones I was going to use. I was also explained the problems the depository encounters even when trying to produce the photographic images on display for their own purposes. There are still many things that the museum can do to improve their interaction with Social Media, and their use of up-to-date means of online communication on the website is one of the things that are begging to be changed.

In hindsight, I should probably have written to the museum, explaining my intention. My only excuse is that this was the first time in England that I had to ask for a photography permission: I genuinely assumed that this would not be a problem as it has not been with very many other art collections and depositories where I have taken photos previously. I generally have no problem with photography not being allowed at the special exhibitions. But the collection in question is on a regular display.

Fashion Cornucopia, or The Atrocities of Abundance

Can there be too much fashion? I do think so…

By Julia Shuvalova

(First published at Exzibit.net on 06 July 2005)

So, this is who I am – a young female journalist and writer, with a sophisticated taste, who, as any other woman, sometimes has this burning desire to buy something new – a skirt, shoes or a bag. If not any of these, then some baubles, at least. I don’t always find what I want, but as I don’t suffer from the lack of garments, I don’t bother. There is a pair of shoes that I’ve been wearing since high school, and that was almost ten years ago, so they are now a fine vintage and are regularly complimented.

However, every now and then when I walk into a shop and spend some time there strolling past rails of identical printed dresses, I can’t help wondering how hypocritical designers and labels are. They all profess individual taste and style, yet no-one – indeed, no single brand – lives up to its own stipulations. Why so?

I don’t know the answer, but the fact is that fashion has actually severely restricted our opportunities to create a unique persona. It’s good to think, of course, that a gipsy skirt you’re wearing is made by Gaultier or Cavalli, as opposed to a similar creation by a high-street label. Let’s face it, though: you would rather prefer to be the only person who drifts above the hot-burning road on a summer afternoon in this majestic gipsy skirt, and sandals with the tinkling of bracelets on your wrists. Alas, you are not the only vessel in this sea of floating fabrics, white, green, brown, black, blue… You are but a part of this summer regatta, and it will take a lot to make yourself fashionable and memorable all at once.

Or jeans… My Lord, even Liz Hurley broke silence: she said she didn’t like the low-cuts. You may think, what’s her business? She is the only woman on a planet who could wear a dress that was held together by a fair word and safety pins and looked glamorous, not trashy. Well, personally I’m quite happy she passed her opinion, as now I know that she is as hurt as I am every time she sees those atrocious looks that low-cut jeans help to create on some women. In part, I believe, they follow fashion, but do they actually have a choice?

A few years ago designers all as one began to make jeans with decorations, which usually fell beyond any sense of measure. Nowadays almost all jeans out there are low-cut. Not only jeans, in fact, but most of the trousers and skirts. Hence our eyes are exposed not just to the hanging flesh, but also to some disastrous examples of underwear. And notice this – I don’t mention any hygienic factors that rise from this full exposure. Personally, I’m too fastidious when it comes to wearing something low-cut, especially when I face the prospect of sitting on a bus seat where someone has rested their dusty trainers.

Perhaps, this complete dominance of fashion in our lives can be explained by the fact that we don’t have much time to spend on walking in and out of the shops, thinking precisely what suits us and our purse. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention just how much money is spent on creating an image, only durable for a season or two. We seem to prefer to grab a look, rather than to make a statement via a personal style. No, we don’t differ in that from our grandmothers who probably shaped their eyebrows a-la Greta Garbo or applied tonnes of mascara to look like Marlene Dietrich. Those ladies had very refined looks, which are still in demand, like the beauty and sex appeal of Marilyn Monroe and Doris Day, according to the recent Muller poll. The truth is, they were absolutely unique, which unfortunately isn’t so about very many of today’s icons.

What to do? Oh, I am still under the impression of Boris Bekker at Wimbledon: totally relaxed and elegant in that blue suit, with a white shirt and a pink tie, he said about Roddick: ‘He’s got to relax and enjoy his own game’. Taking the phrase out of the context, this is exactly what I have always been doing, and this is why I happened to wear chunky sweaters and endless scarves long before these came into fashion. And exactly at this time, three years ago, I was completely mad, searching everywhere for huge sunglasses, while everyone was wearing tiny ones. Believe it or not, I found the red pair in Grasmere, which suited perfectly my red shoes. Yet it took designers another year or two to introduce the 1970s-style glasses that used to make females look like the UFO’s visitors.

Of course, I don’t expect you to follow my high-heels and ignore fashion and go after your whims. Instead, I would hope the brands would ease their rather aggressive campaigns and clothes supply. It’s no fun to be the best-selling brand just because your frocks are cheap, as it usually means they are of a poorer quality. Women’s individuality is never in the price they pay for their garments. It’s in the equilibrium of personality and style, which reflect and influence one another. And since everyone recognises it, why not put this cornucopia of identical frocks and baubles aside and help women create their own unique personas, by limiting the offer? It may sound too revolutionary, but won’t it be fun?

Scent of Abyss: Thoughts on Fragrance Campaigns Inspired by Klimt’s Kiss

Naturally, scent does not only accompany and accomplish the look, it is also expected to be seductive. But what are the means of seduction in 2005?

By Julia Shuvalova

(First published at Exzibit.net on 01 May 2005)

 

It must be a tantalising effort to design a fragrance advert. Since a scent accompanies – or accomplishes – the look, it necessarily carries the message of a designer, who is responsible for a fragrance line. Ultimately, though, it is a means of seduction, like fashion itself, and whether aggressive or subtle, it involves everyone, from a couturier to a voyeur. But, as it happens, passion evaporates as soon as its flow and outcome become predictable. And so the designer’s team twist their brain ruthlessly to create a seductive image of an elusive odour. Looking at some of these images of 2004/2005, how are these supposed to seduce us?

Forget indiscreet invitations and indecent proposals – today fashion advertising returns to naturalness and innocence. There are no sexually aggressive posters a-la Gucci in 2003. If anything else, it was an outstanding contribution to our knowledge of a female: it identified a Gucci-spot, a female lust-for-fashion trigger. But in terms of fashion photography and advertising it was probably a cul-de-sac. In many ways it was a logical conclusion to a scandalous CK Jeans advert of the 1980s: ‘Nothing stands between me and my Calvins’ – only a Gucci. How could you go further after this, without being called a pervert?

Since then we got tired of naked bodies, of looking at inviting lips, of listening to a passionate whisper… We’re tired of raw sex, albeit it doesn’t mean that we don’t want to be seduced. The 20^th century made us see everything, and we’re now aspiring for the impossible. We want love to be a miracle of Gustav Klimt’s Kiss: a tense union on the edge of a cliff, in which man fulfils his passion, and woman retains her freedom. In the end, we’re looking for a mystery, an unpronounced secret, the unseen. Style, The Sunday Times’ supplement, has recently printed an article about a dramatic change in a female bra habit. It revealed that women now love full bras, not those pieces of fabric and lace patched together only to provide support. Instead of “two breasts” there is now a “bosom”, and you, gentlemen, are not supposed to be gazing at it.

Fragrance adverts promptly reacted to this demand for mystery and subtlety. By far the most seductive campaign of the season, Valentino V, is still very prudent. A woman is naked, but she doesn’t flash her body, and, as if to intensify your aroused curiosity, she’s wearing a red feather mask… She’s inviting, and yet doesn’t promise anything. Would she be just as cold as that woman on Klimt’s painting, and why is she wearing a mask? What’s her secret? Your curiosity throws you into a sweet turmoil of unawareness, unpredictability and fantasy, which chains are too precious to break.

One of Chanel campaigns for Chance features legendary golden rain. According to a myth, Zeus turned into golden rain to unite with Danae. Even if it looks just as much provocative, as was a “Gucci-spot” campaign, it isn’t. But theoretically, this advert (that only features a bottle), bearing in mind the story of a fragrance, may rather be a take on Rembrandt’s painting, than a Greek myth. In Rembrandt’s Danae there’s a feeling of surprise, of astonishment, of anticipation as well as eagerness, and this is what Chance is attempting to evoke. A 21^st century Danae is locked in her apartments by the consumerist culture, and haute-couture has to devise new methods to reach out to her. It turns into a fertile golden rain, to penetrate Danae, to make her sense the beauty of fashion.

Dolce&Gabbana has taken Gucci’s space this season, by producing a sexually charged advert. But even then the lovers are caught in the process of foreplay, a mutual seduction that as yet doesn’t reveal more than what it wants to.

Calvin Klein’s campaign for Eternity Moment is also strikingly demure. Every shot is a hint, a black-and-white caption of a bigger picture that you’re invited to paint yourself, in your own colours or without any. A sudden look, a first kiss, and a fateful encounter that is sealed for eternity – these are only guidelines, but never a full story. Notwithstanding quite a few sensual scenes, the only strong link with sex is Scarlett Johansson, who’s often hailed “a new Monroe”.

Even Britney Spears, although being very Curious in her dreams, left it all to our imagination. Yes, she fantasises of that gorgeous guy in a neighbouring room, but we all know how enormous that abyss between our fantasies and the real life is. Would Britney bridge this abyss? Something tells me that Mrs Kevin Federline, who’s expecting her first baby, will not give us the answer as yet.

Generally, there are two trends in fragrance campaigns. One sets off to seduce a customer by offering sex on the spot or at least an unambiguous promise of it. Another is more accommodating to the needs of a modern individual, who’s got to rule his/her firm, hold business-meetings, travel, look through books and magazines (to appear, if not to be, intelligent), have family and children, and with all this he/she also needs to have some intimate pleasure. This second trend therefore starts by “winding down” this extremely successful business man/woman, and this is why in this trend seduction is identified with natural innocence, not the innocence of behaviour.

It was perhaps predictable that in the age of the green house effect and air pollution perfumers will try and bring to us freshness of mountain springs and the tranquillity of secret Japanese gardens. Air features in Ghost and Lacoste, while Davidoff, Hugo Boss and Chanel have chosen water as a motive for their adverts. And some brands attempted to combine serenity of nature with a promise for intimate fulfilment. DKNY for women features green apples, while a new man’s fragrance from Hugo Boss came out in a green round bottle, which again reminds us of a fruit of seduction.

In the fashion world, this is not the first ever demand for naturalness and the untold. However, these attempts to evoke the long-lost magic are overall very nostalgic. There is no chance to return to the early 20^th century, when those takes on mystery and demurral were appropriate, having been accompanied by stifling high-neck corset dresses and a grotesque male mannerism. Catwalk reports take us further and further from those black-and-white photos. Klimt’s Kiss is probably an emblem of this irreversible advent of time. At the beginning of the 20^th century a man had placed the last kiss on his nymph. The abyss of time has engulfed her, and all he is left is Golden Rain…