Posts tagged ‘Duran Duran’
1985 is a year I am forever fond of.
I was the flower girl at my Auntie’s wedding that brutally hot Southern California summer. (An event I almost ruined by bawling my eyes out during the ceremony– terrified the rites meant I would never see her again.) It was the year of Marty McFly, We Are the World, Punky Brewster (yay!), New Coke (boo!), Nintendo, bad perms and great flipping music.
It’s also the year that my favorite band of the ’80s, Duran Duran, split for what was to be the first in a long line of splits.
But it was a good split. Not one of those narly, messy Tiger Beat soap operas that had teenage girls in black sackloth and candlelit vigils. (That came a few years later.) No, this was quite different. An amicable split to explore the natural curiosities and urges that intrigues 20-somethings the world over. It was in fact less of a split and more of a side-project. Duran Duran’s Simon LeBon (swoon) and Nick Rhodes (faint) explored the phantasmagoria of deeply gothic synth rock while John Taylor (thud) joined ranks with rocking Robert Palmer’s Power Station.
They called themselves “Arcadia” and the Mad Max-ish Soft-pornish erotica of their epic video, Election Day, gave way to what is the point of this particular post: a delightful, whimsical homage to 40s screwball whodunnits. The Flame is a gem hidden beneath Duran Duran’s glossier, bigger budget big-brothers. Murder on the Orient Express, The Thin Man, House of Horrors and even Bringing Up Baby are sampled– Simon LeBon channeling a convincingly slapsitck Cary Grant, while Nick Rhodes is, as ever, the elegant omniscient puppeteer.
The reason for this admittedly random post is quite simple. At the age of six I was in love with the band, but also the style and fun of this video. As an adult, looking back, it’s wonderfully amusing to realize that even at six, my fate was sealed: the romance and mystere of classic film was already in my blood.
The always delightful Clara who runs Via Marugtta 51 named The Pictorial as a ‘Stylish Blogger’ and bestowed upon us this totally fun Stylish Blogger Award.
Now there are rules to this thing, of which I am only too happy to comply, particularly the first which is to link up to the blog that gave us the award.That of course is Clara and consider this a stern order to VISIT VIA MARGUTTA 51. NOW.
The second is to list 7 facts about yourself. This I am more reluctant to follow through on, but shall:
1.) I paint. Not particularly well, but I paint nonetheless. My grandmother is a gifted portrait artist and some of my earliest memories are of her teaching me technique on quiet weekends at her house. I had dreams of being as good as she is, but as it happens, I just… paint.
2.) I speak French. C’est-à-dire, je parle francais. J’ai appris le francais il y a quatre ans, et je suis un francophile absolument. Mon jour idéal est ecouter des chansons d’Edith Piaf avec une bouteille de vin est un plat du fromage.
3.) I live in LA but my heart is back in England. My old flat was off the High Road in Chiswick, West London, on the floor above an Italian restaurant called That’s Amore. Whenever I’d locked myself out of my flat (which happened often) they’d let me sit, have a glass of wine and watch them make Margaretta pizzas. (Wonder if they’re still in business…)
4.) I’m a hypocritical vegetarian: I don’t eat meat but I own leather boots.
5.) I hate popcorn.
6.) I’m a proud 80s Child and my first crush was on Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran at the ripe age of 5. God… that eyeliner.
7.) I correct grammar for a living. I know that sounds frightfully boring, but it’s for a film magazine which is kinda fab. However, I would much rather chuck it all in to work under the table somewhere France.
And, finally, naming 7 Stylish Bloggers upon whom merit the title. That’s just plain cruel. Most everyone I know merits the title! (Least of all me!) But the rules mandate seven, so here goes nothin…
Angela’s The Hollywood Revue
Riikka’s Harlean’s Heyday
Brandie at True Classics
Kate Gabrielle’s scathingly brilliant Scathingly Brilliant
The elegant Viv and Larry
The Lady Eve Sidwich
the lovely Paris Atelier