- 30 Davies Street, W1K 4NB
Words by Chloe Hayward.
So it seems that summer is over and the autumn winds have set in far too soon. The London skyline is looking suitably grey and we’re seeking some escape from the drizzle at the late Corinne Day’s recently launched exhibition ‘The Face’. In fact, it was only the prospect of seeing previously unseen photographs by Day that got us to trudge through the wind and rain to Gimpel Fils just off Bond St.
Portraits of a bandy teenager, with a freckle speckled make-up free face - the epitome of nineties grunge beauty - are hanging in a super-clean white gallery that’s nestled amongst some of the priciest shops in London. This location sets us up for the sense of paradox that surrounds Day’s work. She was widely known for pioneering anti-fashion photography, causing controversy with the so-called ‘heroin chic’ look (after ‘Trainspotting’, heroin has never seemed that chic to us) and rose to fame with her ‘Summer of Love’ shoot for now defunct magazine ‘The Face’. Her honest way of capturing youthful innocence caught the eye of the fashion elite, and Day’s shots began to feature on the cover of Vogue. From rebelling against an era of glamazons, Day and a gawky teenager began to penetrate fashion’s inner circle and inspire a new era of fashion.
As we open the glass door and stroll into the hospital-white gallery, we are greeted by Little Miss Moss, all frizzy haired, bambi-doe-eyed and voluptuous lips. We sigh at the thought of this sixteen year old pretty girl before all the rockin’ and rollin’, and wonder what was going through her mind at this stage in her life. Could she have predicted that her face would become the most admired and photographed of the 21st century? Gazing at Moss on the beach, beer in hand, donning a bikini and floppy sunhat, we’re transported to the sunnier climes of Borneo, and smile at the sense of frivolity and natural ease that Day captured in a single shot. The nicest thing about Day’s work, is how she reveals personality – models were allowed to smile, and laugh and generally lark about – even if their eyes creased up and the clothes didn’t look as good, something that is perhaps finding its way back into fashion today (see the new Lanvin film featuring Karen Elson and Raquel Zimmerman getting down in couture). The whole exhibition has the candid intimacy of flicking through a mate’s album of holiday snaps (if your mate happened to be a dab hand with a camera and your other mate happened to be breathtakingly beautiful).
Downstairs we see the development of that angelic teenage face, to a more blemished (and wrinkled) one. A series of expression shots show Moss mid-speech, about to laugh and looking confused. She doesn’t pose in them, just like in the ones of her as a youngster, and they reveal the transformation of her face. We’re suddenly slightly envious that Moss is lucky enough to have much of her adolescence documented by Day and lots of lovely pictures to show her future grandchildrem. As we head back upstairs and prepare to once again battle through the wind, we get another chance to soak up the smile of a younger Kate, whose sparkly brown eyes are bright and fresh with the innocence and optimism of youth. Day is greatly missed, having sadly passed away last year, and the exhibition is dedicated to a fraction of her legacy which is as sweet and honest now as it was twenty years ago. We take our last look at Moss’s perfect face, and then thrust ourselves out into the cold posh Davies Street.
Visit Gimpel Fils website [click here]
