(for Artforum)
Fred Vermorel achieved both renown and notoriety for his
unorthodox approach to pop biography and as a theorist of fame and fandom. But
1996’s Vivienne Westwood: Fashion,
Perversity and the Sixties Laid Bare was his most eccentric statement
yet. For a start, the book was as much
about Westwood’s partner Malcolm McLaren as the legendary designer
herself. Her story was ably chronicled
in an imaginary interview weaved together from magazine quotes and half-remembered
ancedotes stemming from Vermorel’s long association with the punk couture duo
and the Sex Pistols milieu. But the book really came alive with the central
section: Vermorel’s memoir of Sixties London, when he and McLaren were
art-school accomplices. The longest and most vivid part of the book, it’s
packed with fascinating digressions on topics such as the semiotics of
cigarette smoking and the atmosphere of all-night art cinema houses. Among
Vermorel’s several provocative assertions is the claim that pop music back then
simply wasn’t as important as made out by subsequent false memorials to the
Sixties, but was regarded as unserious, a mere backdrop to other bohemian or
artistic activities. Posing as a profile
of a fashion icon, Vivienne Westwood
presents the reader with an outlandish blend of cultural etiology (it doubles
as an autopsy on the Sixties’s impossible dreams and analysis of its perverse
psychology) and triangular love story.
Vermorel and Westwood emerge as both still besotted with the incorrigible
McLaren, despite having each “broken up” with him long ago.
-
Simon Reynolds
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