Rather unbelievably, the song “Cruel Summer” celebrates its 25th birthday this year. And rather more unbelievably, for anyone who spent the summer of 1983 trying to look exactly like her, ex-Bananarama star Siobhan Fahey looks even better now than she did then. Proof? Fahey stars in designer Katy Rodriguez’s fall ad campaign, and to judge by the pics, time has not only treated her well, it’s bathed her in milky splendor. “It was one of those, oh my God, that’s HER moments,” Rodriguez recalls of her first impression of
Fahey. “That’s the woman who should be wearing my clothes.” The two have a mutual friend, and Rodriguez had found herself seated across from the singer at a dinner party; the rest is, well, ad-campaign history. Though Rodriguez may have known instantly that Fahey belonged in her clothes, Fahey confesses
to being “flattered and bemused” by the designer’s overtures. “Er, I’m 5′5″ and I’m not a model,” she says. “My initial response was, why me?” Forget Botox. Apparently, humility is the elixir of youth.

—Maya Singer

Photo:
Courtesy of Katy Rodriguez

With his unruly locks, dangling pendants, and a manner that’s simultaneously intense and laid-back, Sam Bassett comes across as a Haight-Ashbury hippie reincarnated as a twenty-first-century fashion and portrait photographer-cum-skater dude. The effect is hardly undermined by his living quarters: He resides on the roof of Manhattan’s Chelsea Hotel, in the same wooden aerie where actress Sarah Bernhardt was said to keep a coffin to entertain lovers.

Being something of a character, the 30 year-old New Jersey native finds himself drawn to other strong characters, and living in the Chelsea, he has a few of those under his nose. That’s one way to explain the genesis of his latest project, "Bettina," a recently completed feature-length documentary about the artist (and hotel resident) Bettina Bashyi. When Bassett first encountered Bashyi, her apartment had been declared a fire hazard, and she was about to be evicted. "Bettina" tracks his efforts to help her clear out the furiously cluttered space, and while the film’s highly personal style may not be every cineplexgoer’s cup of tea, the emotional payoff couldn’t be more resonant. The cleanup not only unearths a trove of Bashyi’s earlier work, but also offers a moving portrait of a woman emerging from decades of intense isolation. "She’s a huge inspiration to me," says Bassett. "And it’s nice to think that in my own way, I’ve helped inspire her, too."

"Bettina"—which Bassett has started showing at informal rooftop screenings—is just the first film in a planned six-part documentary series. Other subjects include the poet Ira Cohen, gay-rights pioneer Storme, and the Chelsea Hotel itself, which is in the midst of a transition as its idiosyncratic, tolerant ways meet the forces of contemporary Manhattan real estate. It’s not hard to guess which side of the divide Bassett stands on. As he says, "All the films relate to my interest in independence of spirit."

Visit Bassett’s Web site to preview his movies.

Photo: Sam Bassett

On the eve of his Chanel Cruise (as he prefers to refer to it) collection in Miami, Karl Lagerfeld sat down with Style.com between fittings to talk about his reading list, decorating projects—and the Anna Wintour shoulder.

How has the idea of resort collections changed?

It’s not Resort anymore. It’s another collection—in the story of Fall, pre-Fall, Paris/London, pre-Spring, Spring—called “cruise.” It’s like a code name, but the thing is that Chanel needs six ready-to-wear collections a year, every two months completely new things at the shops. There are hundreds of shops all over the world that have to have something new all the time or else there’s no reason to go back. Or else you go to a place like Colette where they see 100 labels. If it’s one label, this label needs to have something new all the time.

Why Miami?

The answer is very simple, because apparently [holds up a page from the April 24 issue of WWD showing that Florida is \"the domestic and international destination most booked by travel agents for summer 2008\"]. Plus, you know, there was never a relation between [Coco] Chanel and Miami, so we make one. [We\'re interrupted by the arrival of model Iekeliene Stange in a black-and-peach satin dress with one very special feature, which Lagerfeld then explains.] This is called the Anna Wintour shoulder—it is like the things she had at the Met. It was invented for her.

What are you reading?

“Diva: Defiance and Passion in Early Italian Cinema.” I will show you; you may laugh, but it’s very interesting if you know all about Italian silent movies and the concept. It’s a quite difficult book—it’s not a novel, it’s not a biography. ” Women Who Write” and “Brilliant Women: 18th Century Bluestockings.” Now we have blue tights!

Any summer plans?

I go to Monte Carlo and Saint-Tropez because I have a house there—and you know, [they are] not too far away. I’ve traveled enough this year—going to China twice and all that.

Are you doing any decorating these days?

Yes, I just finished my place on the Left Bank, which will be only in American Vogue and nowhere else. I am shipping my furniture that I collected from my apartment in New York in Gramercy Park and then I’m doing a town house in Paris for guests—but I don’t live there. I’m doing a mix that I’ve never done yet. My private place is very, very, very modern: nothing done before 2000. No art, only glass and light. It’s on the river, but I have to stay away from the windows because the [touring] boats, they [come by and] say, “and here lives Madame Chirac…” Thank God I’m not there all the time. So I bought next door a house, where I can mix eighteenth century with all the things from Art Deco and modern things. Mixing eighteenth century and Art Deco was never done like this. I have beautiful furniture from the eighteenth century: very, very French.— Laird Borrelli-Persson

Photo: Courtesy of Chanel/Photo Karl Lagerfeld 2008

With all the nineties nostalgia in the air, it’s no surprise to see the release of Olivier Zahm and Elein Fleiss’ “Purple Anthology” (Rizzoli), which can be read as an authoritative guide to turn-of-the-millennium cutting-edge culture (or, as the 16-year-old magazine might put it, to “art, prose, fashion, music, architecture, sex”). The book consists of photos of pages and spreads from old issues, with every year accompanied by a personal essay by a Purple affiliate (Chloë Sevigny, Terry Richardson, et al.), full of anecdotes both blasé and poignant. From 1994, here’s Kim Gordon on the death of Kurt Cobain: “Because he was a public figure, the communal mourning was a T-shirt, no matter how exploitative it seemed. The difference, though, is that if you knew the person, then their death is not cool, it’s not a cool stance. It’s not a cool T-shirt.”—Kelley Hoffman

Manolo Blahniks, Alexander McQueens, and other masterpieces of shoe design artistry littered the entrance to the opening of Pipilotti Rist’s video installation at Art Basel a couple of nights ago. The reason? Rist had posted a handwritten note in German and English urging viewers to “kiss your neighbor! And leave your lovely shoes by the door!” Obedient art fans entered the purple velvet-lined room, lay on red sofas, and watched a video of hippies rolling on the floor that was being screened on the ceiling. A day or two later, it seemed that a few non-flower children were hoping to top up their shoe selection from the stash by the door. When I emerged from Rist’s ode to love, I found another woman covetously clutching one of my Costume National wedges. After rescuing my shoe from her and hearing her mutter something (probably not very hippie-ish) in Italian before slinking away, I turned to the guard, who shrugged at the barely averted injustice: “Art,” she said, which seemed to be her cryptic suggestion that maybe I was not toeing the Rist line by refusing to share my shoes with the stranger.—Ana Finel Honigman

Maybe the accusations finally got to them. After all, there are only so many times a designer can hear criticisms of the “recycling,” “overly familiar,” and even occasionally “copying” ilk before he begins to suspect that he might not get away with that “homage” to the sixties again this season. Perhaps that explains the latest trend to come down the fashion pipeline: Reinventing the Wheel. Sleeveless jackets, clutch bags as big as flat-screen TV sets, strange ballet flats that curve like U’s instead of conforming to the usual shoe shape and lying flat—not since the glory days of three-legged trousers, circa London fashion week 1999, have designers demonstrated such determination to coin not just new trends, but whole new kinds of clothes. And while in some cases the squeak of a barrel scrape can definitely be heard, that YSL elongated jacket “sans manches” looks pretty splendid and is ever so convenient for our climatically changed post-global warming world. As proof of its success, forget about searching for pictures of Kate Moss wearing it—Topshop has already knocked out a version. You can’t get more proof of its acceptance into the style pantheon than that, surely.—Hadley Freeman

Photo: Marcio Madeira

Disclaimer: The following post does not represent an endorsement. We here at Style.com merely consider it our solemn duty to inform the public that Rodial has a new product called Boob Job, which the company contends will boost bust size sans surgery. Myrrh resin is purported to enhance fat storage in the breast area, microfibers and wheat protein are promoted as having instant toning and firming properties, and whatever “pomegranate ellagic tannin cell protection” is, Boob Job has that, too. We may not be able to sort through the beautyspeak, but we do know that beach season looms ever sooner, and that new bikini isn’t going to fill itself out. No product testing has been conducted by Style.com. But if anyone reading this takes a stab at a Boob Job massage and sees a difference, we are more than happy to gather those results. Clarification: We are awaiting word on whether or not this product works with bated breasts. Ahem. With bated breath.—Maya Singer

Photo: Courtesy of Rodial

The Mets fired coach Willie Randolph last night, and sports people are reeling. From what we can tell (though really, we’re not so up on our sports metaphors), this would be something like Chanel asking Karl to leave and then hiring an underling to do his job.

It’s bigger than Canal Street. Apparently everything sold in China is a fake.

Mary J. Blige is “blessed,” and she feels for you. Go on, let her buy you some Diane von Furstenberg.—Alison Baenen

Photo: Phil Loftus/Capital Pictures/Retna Ltd.

Swedish jeansters ACNE’s eponymous ambition to create novel expressions (their name’s a lofty acronym, not a lowly facial blemish) just got smaller. Mini, in fact, with the launch of their kids’ collection, Acne Miniature. The dainty duds—a begonia-print top for her; a buttoned check shirt and suspenders for him—may look familiar to Acne-wearing adults, as well they should. The 20 tiny pieces were lifted straight from the full-size Fall ‘08 collection and then shrunk. Literally? We’re not entirely sure, but we do know that your and your kid’s hipster quotient will increase exponentially when you sport matching cardigans. Sizes are for ages 2 to 10 years old, and prices range from $49 for T-shirts to $149 for jeans. Acne Miniature will be available in stores at the end of July.—Alison Baenen

Photo: Courtesy of Acne