Dear Shaded Viewers,
As I was leaving Art Paris the other day, I happened to snag a copy of the New York Times International Edition. Splashed across the front page and flowing onto the second was a sprawling article on none other than James Goldstein. It was a name that jogged memories from over two decades ago, back when I was deeply engrossed in my Fashioned Out videos. One of my earliest ventures into filmmaking, “You Wear it Well,” premiered in LA as my first fashion film festival in 2006, and there it was – James Goldstein’s narrative intertwining with mine once more. The very logo of “You Wear it Well” had been crafted by Pierre Marie, just setting out on his illustrious career.
As I immersed myself in the article, it resurfaced memories of an interview with James Goldstein at l’Hotel in Paris, where he spoke passionately about his plans to donate his home to a museum posthumously. I had an amusing encounter with him outside a Vivienne Westwood show. After our exit, he casually inquired about my plans and if I could recommend any designers that might pique his interest. I suggested Haider Ackermann, whose show was happening at the l’Ecole des Beaux Arts. Delighted with the suggestion, he mentioned he was staying at L’Hotel, just down the street from l’Ecole des Beaux Arts, and invited me to his room, as a thank you to bringing Haider to his attention, I think. Knowing I was far from his type – being neither tall nor a long-legged blonde model – I felt at ease and accepted his invitation. That encounter led to the interview above.
After the interview, James invited me to visit his house whenever I found myself in LA. Although such occasions were rare for me, my festival happened to take place in the city, and a friend of mine living in LA was eager to experience the famed abode. Despite James being away, he made arrangements for one of his five gardeners to give us a tour. The house held marvels within, including a separate meditation dome crafted by James Turrell, where one could recline on the floor and gaze up as a streak of light encircled the base—an ethereal experience. It dawned on me then that scenes from David Lynch’s “Lost Highway” had been filmed in his apartment, adding another layer of intrigue to an already mesmerizing visit.
Later,
Diane
