Christian Dior

[King Leer]

With the brouhaha over designer John Galliano's comments the name "Christian Dior" has been in the news a lot.

That, in combination with feeling nostalgic for the Ringleader-era lately (I know there was a thread about this track in 2006) I've been listening to b-side Christian Dior. Boz wrote some fantastic music - his piano-led pieces are usually very strong, the vocal melody is passionate and the lyrics are some of the best of Morrissey's three albums in the last decade. It's a true gem - I love it.


Christian Dior
You wasted your life
On aroma and clothes
Fabric and dyes
Christian Dior
You wasted your life
On grandeur and style
And making the poor rich smile

You could have run wild
On the backstreets of Lyon or Marseille
Reckless and legless and stoned
Impregnating women
Or kissing mad street boys from Napoli
Who couldn't even write their own name

Christian Dior
You wasted your life
Sensually stroking the weaves of a sleeve

You could have run wild
On the backstreets of Lyon or Marseille
Reckless and legless and stoned
Impregnating women
Or kissing mad street boys from Napoli
Who couldn't even spell their own name

Christian Dior
Christian Dior

When you look at me
Failure is all that you see
I discipline my days just like
Christian Dior

I could've run loudly and proudly
All forcible entry
And morally bankrupt
And never non-violent
And drawn to what scares me
And scared of what bores me
Years alone will never be returned

Christian Dior

Lionise maverick
Design if you can
The way to just be a man
To just be a man

Christian Dior
Christian Dior
Christian Dior
Christian Dior


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrHeQjxDfw8&feature=related

[Librarian On Fire]

King Leer, I concure with you, it is a very good song. And in that fatalistic Morrissey choice, reduced to a b-side. How many other artists would pen a song about a fashion designer?

Christian Dior mens homme sport is my cologne of choice too. Thanks Morrissey and a certain female who steered me in the right direction at the cologne counter.

[not_me_not_I]

One of my absolute favourites.

"Years alone will never be returned"
tears at my heart each time, as I hear a bit of honest regret from him.

[Raphael Lambach]

John Galliano's stupid. Although he was drunken I guess all things he said are exactly what he believes.

[CrystalGeezer]

One of my absolute favourites.

"Years alone will never be returned"
tears at my heart each time, as I hear a bit of honest regret from him.

Regret from him? :squiffy: Explain how you interpret that he feels regret?

[not_me_not_I]

Regret that he spent years alone. The first two verses outline how Dior "wasted" his life, immersing himself in his work at the expense of fun and physical relationships. This is followed by him identifying with Christian "I discipline my days just like Christian Dior." He says "years alone will never be returned" - why would he want them returned if he was happy with their solitary state? Especially in the context of the ROTT era seeming to signal that he was finally getting over some hang ups about sex "I once was a mess of guilt because of the flesh, it's remarkable what you can learn once you are born", and bits of "Dear God", it's apropos that he might look back and think "Geez, I could have been getting laid all this time..."

[mcrickson]

Regret that he spent years alone. The first two verses outline how Dior "wasted" his life, immersing himself in his work at the expense of fun and physical relationships. This is followed by him identifying with Christian "I discipline my days just like Christian Dior." He says "years alone will never be returned" - why would he want them returned if he was happy with their solitary state?

Years of REFUSAL, one might say :D


Especially in the context of the ROTT era seeming to signal that he was finally getting over some hang ups about sex "I once was a mess of guilt because of the flesh, it's remarkable what you can learn once you are born", and bits of "Dear God", it's apropos that he might look back and think "Geez, I could have been getting laid all this time..."

:lbf:

[Amy]

Superb lyrics, lost in a tuneless mess. A wasted opportunity.

[CrystalGeezer]

Regret that he spent years alone. The first two verses outline how Dior "wasted" his life, immersing himself in his work at the expense of fun and physical relationships. This is followed by him identifying with Christian "I discipline my days just like Christian Dior." He says "years alone will never be returned" - why would he want them returned if he was happy with their solitary state? Especially in the context of the ROTT era seeming to signal that he was finally getting over some hang ups about sex "I once was a mess of guilt because of the flesh, it's remarkable what you can learn once you are born", and bits of "Dear God", it's apropos that he might look back and think "Geez, I could have been getting laid all this time..."

Interesting. I always thought he expressed himself as being remarkably at peace with his decision to be alone. Frustrating I'm sure, but it's like he has a higher calling. As far as this song, I hear it as the person who is not like Christian Dior being a bit of an idiot. He's mocking his carefree state. The final line that you quote is a kind of attack. He seems to think dichotymously. Think of them as being together driving a car on a roadtrip. He's saying "You are a reckless driver so I have to be a careful driver and insodoing, alone. Since you've wasted so many years being carefree and I held the reins being alone I'm kinda pissed at you, but thank God I'm not you." I dunno. It doesn't read as regret, more as an attack but I'm menstruating now so maybe my interpretation is fighty. As far as At Last I Am Born, I thought that was masonic symbiology. Since he's been reborn a mason its amazing the answers he can get to the questions he's always had. While getting laid is a delightful topic I'm not convinced his ode to knocking on the door of gnosis is as simple as that. I could be wrong. Also the tune of ALIAB is kind of mocking. He sings he is born in a bombastic way because actually up to that point he hadn't been yet. I could be wrong there too. :p

It's funny the different directions his songs go. One persons getting laid song is another person's Pomp & Circumstance.

[Dave]

John Galliano's stupid. Although he was drunken I guess all things he said are exactly what he believes.
Exactly.

[Dave]

It's a weak song about regret and two years ago or so when I last heard it it seemed he was regretting the loneliness or lack of fun in his life. But it's one of those songs that, imo, affects some people because of the sentiment, but I disagree with Amy about the quality of the lyrics. It was a b-side and not a remarkable one. Somewhere between Sweetie Pie and The Never-Ending Misery or whatever it's called. :straightface:

[joe frady]

Remember this? ~

" 'Godfather Meet Christian Dior'
By Armond White
You have to love pop music to feel the connection between James Brown’s 1963 “Please, Please, Please” and The Smith’s 1984 “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want This Time.” The subliminal link can be found in the parenthetical subtitle of Brown’s “I Got You (I Feel Good).”

As artists, both Brown and Morrissey of The Smiths search for satisfaction in a cruel, Man’s Man’s Man’s world. They don’t have to share a funk connection. Their upstart, “punk” connection is enough. It’s conceivable that Morrissey got ideas on how to be a distinct male performer from examples as singular as Brown’s soulful, pleading, yet defiant artistry. What’s worth listening for in pop music is the ideal that links a singer from the backwoods of Georgia with one from the cramped streets of Manchester. And that’s what worth looking for in life too.

Two young pop critics John Demetry and Ben Kessler had trouble finding the ideal in the awkward programming of Morrissey’s recent album Ringleader of the Tormentors. Individually, they pointed out the enervating, out-of-joint bulge of two tracks: “In the Future When All’s Well” and “To Me You Are a Work of Art.” Both good songs, but they distended the album’s narrative and slowed-down its gestalt. Or so Demetry and Kessler argued. They were being finicky pop listeners, glimpsing an ideal, fastidiously demanding to please, please, please get the perfection they wanted.

Uncannily, Morrissey’s fourth single release from that album answered their complaint. It extracted those two particular songs (the latter in a live-concert version), included a third Ringleader song for context (“I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero Now”) and anchored them all to an unexpected new composition, “Christian Dior.” It’s a song whose bold, original meaning could carry the subtitle “James Brown.”

In “Christian Dior,” Morrissey addresses the strange circumstance of a modern pop artist whose life and artistic pursuits are commonly misunderstood. “You wasted your life” goes the refrain that repeats the voice of philistine moralists. It could be the opprobrium of those who consider fashion design or pop music to be trivial endeavors. Dealing with the conflict of social rules and personal drive, Morrissey outlines the irony of a pop artist’s contributions to “Aroma and Clothes/ Fabric and dyes/ Grandeur and Style” and then the song’s first great stomp of irony: “Making the poor rich smile.”

Only the most doctrinaire confuse art’s value with capitalist critique. Post-punk, neo-soul Morrissey knows better; he wedges apart that narrow, dogmatic notion. “Poor rich” subtly criticizes the petty values of privileged folk while the word “smile” allows for the humane richness of pleasure that is not reserved for the rich but available for all. That’s a true pop insight. It goes for all those (from whatever social origin) who can appreciate the rigor of haute couture or the splendor of a James Brown funk groove. Doing so grants a certain grace to the undervalued work of pop artists whether fashion designer or soul singers.

Morrissey’s song redefines the virtues of an artist’s personal life. “Christian Dior’s” chorus is a list of status quo reprimands. It audaciously mixes middle-class norms with jet-set prerogatives. But these behavioral examples also describe the limits placed on famous people as others observe and judge them; each action (from impregnating women to kissing street boys) represents an article of envy in a fashion show of perverse moralism. Morrissey cites what Dior (1905-1957) could have done to satisfy convention or stereotype; virtually limiting himself to the conformity of others--those who “couldn’t even spell their own names” or “couldn’t even write their own names.” The paraphrasing is double-veiled. It’s not merely a snipe at illiteracy (hinting at social exploitation and class slumming allowed to celebrities). But evokes the will toward self-definition that Dior modeled by making his own path.

“Christian Dior” counters judgments of “failure” rendered by guardians of the cultural status quo. It puts into perspective the post-mortem moralism one often gleans from obituaries and elegies that offer quick and dirty sum-ups (or put-downs) of a man’s life and work. Here’s where the context provided by the other Ringleader tracks becomes artfully life-enhancing. “In the Future When All’s Well” proposes a summary judgment like that of the early Smiths song “Cemetery Gates” (where all men and all tastes are equal). “To Me You Are a Work of Art” equates personal devotion to aesthetic evaluation. And “I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero Now” offers the writhing anguish of desire and frustration—the need to be appreciated, loved, valued.

After the bridge on “Christian Dior,” Morrissey takes this all personally (“When you look at me/ Failure is all that you see”). That is, he makes you take it personally; sharing an artist’s doubts and wishes—proving the difference between a mere obit and poetry. He salutes Dior’s example: “I discipline my days just like Christian Dior.” It’s a marvelous line that follows an inner homonymous logic of “discipline” and “Christian”—discipleship. This lyrical feat sets up the song’s powerful, dramatic descent into personal regret and uncertainty:

I could have run loudly and proudly
Or Forcible Entry
Morally Bankrupt
Or Never Known
Violent
And drawn to what scares me
And scared of what bores me

These bad life choices are not envied alternatives to a celebrity’s life; they describe the turmoil and various agonies sung about in the other three Ringleader songs that precede and highlight “Christian Dior”—story-songs about sorrow and dissatisfaction so unlike the pure grace of “sensually stroking the weave of a sleeve.”

It is in that simple, seemingly trivial gesture that Morrissey locates Dior’s particular genius. And he backs it up with a series of wordless exhalations “A-Whoosh!” that synch with James Brown’s most outrageous guttural onamotopeia. By imitating the sound of whirling fabric, the vacuum of moving pleats, Morrissey turns the experience of the fashion world into a force. You could call it fey, as Brown’s grunts were called vulgar, but by this point Morrissey’s homage has reached a level of understanding—of personalization—that transcends any demeaning judgment.

From here, the song sails into tribute: “Lionized maverick” is the extent of an unusually curt—yet sufficient—paean. Again, it’s a detached view like the “wasted your life” opening but it’s followed by the deepest, gentlest commiseration: “Design if you can/ A way to just be a man.” After each line Morrissey provides his own moralizing context: a falsetto “Ahhh” in a daringly high register that tweaks the basso-profundo concept of “man.” And every “Ahhh” takes the tribute higher, lifting the singer and the listener out of the depression of life’s bad choices and regrets and other people’s miscomprehension; rising on the good foot of anti-masculinist equality toward absolution, a humane ideal.

It’s not merely respectful. Morrissey’s soaring, most open-hearted singing ever makes it a hilarious act of justice. You can imagine Christian Dior himself rising from his grave to say “Thank you for the privilege of being understood.” "

Yummy! :yum:

[M-in-Oz]

I think it is the song of Morrissey's life, perhaps his best.

[sad veiled bride]

I'm love with the lyrics to this song, so sincere and defenceless. A kind of "Half a person" 20 years later

[not_me_not_I]

Remember this? ~

" 'Godfather Meet Christian Dior'
By Armond White
You have to love pop music to feel the connection between James Brown’s 1963 “Please, Please, Please” and The Smith’s 1984 “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want This Time.” The subliminal link can be found in the parenthetical subtitle of Brown’s “I Got You (I Feel Good).”

As artists, both Brown and Morrissey of The Smiths search for satisfaction in a cruel, Man’s Man’s Man’s world. They don’t have to share a funk connection. Their upstart, “punk” connection is enough. It’s conceivable that Morrissey got ideas on how to be a distinct male performer from examples as singular as Brown’s soulful, pleading, yet defiant artistry. What’s worth listening for in pop music is the ideal that links a singer from the backwoods of Georgia with one from the cramped streets of Manchester. And that’s what worth looking for in life too.

Two young pop critics John Demetry and Ben Kessler had trouble finding the ideal in the awkward programming of Morrissey’s recent album Ringleader of the Tormentors. Individually, they pointed out the enervating, out-of-joint bulge of two tracks: “In the Future When All’s Well” and “To Me You Are a Work of Art.” Both good songs, but they distended the album’s narrative and slowed-down its gestalt. Or so Demetry and Kessler argued. They were being finicky pop listeners, glimpsing an ideal, fastidiously demanding to please, please, please get the perfection they wanted.

Uncannily, Morrissey’s fourth single release from that album answered their complaint. It extracted those two particular songs (the latter in a live-concert version), included a third Ringleader song for context (“I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero Now”) and anchored them all to an unexpected new composition, “Christian Dior.” It’s a song whose bold, original meaning could carry the subtitle “James Brown.”

In “Christian Dior,” Morrissey addresses the strange circumstance of a modern pop artist whose life and artistic pursuits are commonly misunderstood. “You wasted your life” goes the refrain that repeats the voice of philistine moralists. It could be the opprobrium of those who consider fashion design or pop music to be trivial endeavors. Dealing with the conflict of social rules and personal drive, Morrissey outlines the irony of a pop artist’s contributions to “Aroma and Clothes/ Fabric and dyes/ Grandeur and Style” and then the song’s first great stomp of irony: “Making the poor rich smile.”

Only the most doctrinaire confuse art’s value with capitalist critique. Post-punk, neo-soul Morrissey knows better; he wedges apart that narrow, dogmatic notion. “Poor rich” subtly criticizes the petty values of privileged folk while the word “smile” allows for the humane richness of pleasure that is not reserved for the rich but available for all. That’s a true pop insight. It goes for all those (from whatever social origin) who can appreciate the rigor of haute couture or the splendor of a James Brown funk groove. Doing so grants a certain grace to the undervalued work of pop artists whether fashion designer or soul singers.

Morrissey’s song redefines the virtues of an artist’s personal life. “Christian Dior’s” chorus is a list of status quo reprimands. It audaciously mixes middle-class norms with jet-set prerogatives. But these behavioral examples also describe the limits placed on famous people as others observe and judge them; each action (from impregnating women to kissing street boys) represents an article of envy in a fashion show of perverse moralism. Morrissey cites what Dior (1905-1957) could have done to satisfy convention or stereotype; virtually limiting himself to the conformity of others--those who “couldn’t even spell their own names” or “couldn’t even write their own names.” The paraphrasing is double-veiled. It’s not merely a snipe at illiteracy (hinting at social exploitation and class slumming allowed to celebrities). But evokes the will toward self-definition that Dior modeled by making his own path.

“Christian Dior” counters judgments of “failure” rendered by guardians of the cultural status quo. It puts into perspective the post-mortem moralism one often gleans from obituaries and elegies that offer quick and dirty sum-ups (or put-downs) of a man’s life and work. Here’s where the context provided by the other Ringleader tracks becomes artfully life-enhancing. “In the Future When All’s Well” proposes a summary judgment like that of the early Smiths song “Cemetery Gates” (where all men and all tastes are equal). “To Me You Are a Work of Art” equates personal devotion to aesthetic evaluation. And “I’ll Never Be Anybody’s Hero Now” offers the writhing anguish of desire and frustration—the need to be appreciated, loved, valued.

After the bridge on “Christian Dior,” Morrissey takes this all personally (“When you look at me/ Failure is all that you see”). That is, he makes you take it personally; sharing an artist’s doubts and wishes—proving the difference between a mere obit and poetry. He salutes Dior’s example: “I discipline my days just like Christian Dior.” It’s a marvelous line that follows an inner homonymous logic of “discipline” and “Christian”—discipleship. This lyrical feat sets up the song’s powerful, dramatic descent into personal regret and uncertainty:

I could have run loudly and proudly
Or Forcible Entry
Morally Bankrupt
Or Never Known
Violent
And drawn to what scares me
And scared of what bores me

These bad life choices are not envied alternatives to a celebrity’s life; they describe the turmoil and various agonies sung about in the other three Ringleader songs that precede and highlight “Christian Dior”—story-songs about sorrow and dissatisfaction so unlike the pure grace of “sensually stroking the weave of a sleeve.”

It is in that simple, seemingly trivial gesture that Morrissey locates Dior’s particular genius. And he backs it up with a series of wordless exhalations “A-Whoosh!” that synch with James Brown’s most outrageous guttural onamotopeia. By imitating the sound of whirling fabric, the vacuum of moving pleats, Morrissey turns the experience of the fashion world into a force. You could call it fey, as Brown’s grunts were called vulgar, but by this point Morrissey’s homage has reached a level of understanding—of personalization—that transcends any demeaning judgment.

From here, the song sails into tribute: “Lionized maverick” is the extent of an unusually curt—yet sufficient—paean. Again, it’s a detached view like the “wasted your life” opening but it’s followed by the deepest, gentlest commiseration: “Design if you can/ A way to just be a man.” After each line Morrissey provides his own moralizing context: a falsetto “Ahhh” in a daringly high register that tweaks the basso-profundo concept of “man.” And every “Ahhh” takes the tribute higher, lifting the singer and the listener out of the depression of life’s bad choices and regrets and other people’s miscomprehension; rising on the good foot of anti-masculinist equality toward absolution, a humane ideal.

It’s not merely respectful. Morrissey’s soaring, most open-hearted singing ever makes it a hilarious act of justice. You can imagine Christian Dior himself rising from his grave to say “Thank you for the privilege of being understood.” "

Yummy! :yum:

I can see their point. Never looked at it that way.

[sistasheila]

i saw a documentary on yves saint laurent lately they show a fair bit about c. dior himself as well.
also his funeral.cause laurent worked for the house of dior after diors passing..
http://videos.arte.tv/fr/videos/yves_saint_laurent-3729802.html
http://videos.arte.tv/de/videos/yves_saint_laurent-3729802.html
its either in french or german and prob wont run outside of this countries, but im not sure

there is a documentary on christian dior alone:
"CHRISTIAN DIOR, MAN BEHIND THE MYTH" DVD is available through the
French Connection Films website..www.Frenchcx.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ws9wDMs6Cwk

[King Leer]

I know Armond White well from his polarizing film criticism but I never knew he wrote about Morrissey -- thanks for that! Great piece, actually. I think Christian Dior is a great example of Morrissey filtering his own life and feelings through the story of another, arguably more famous, figure. Edit: Why did I write "arguably"? -- Dior is definitely more famous!

Sistasheila -- I just saw the trailer for that French Connection documentary a few days ago. Looks interesting. Dior had to (?) dress Nazi officers' wives while his own sister was sent to the camps. Unbelievable.


Remember this? ~

" [COLOR="darkred"]'Godfather Meet Christian Dior'
By Armond White

[mcrickson]

Superb lyrics, lost in a tuneless mess. A wasted opportunity.

I'd have to disagree with you there. I think if it wouldn't have had such specific subject matter, i.e. focusing on Dior as a point of reference, then it could have done reasonably well as an album track. The chord progression is fantastic, and Mikey's piano and strings really make it.


I'm love with the lyrics to this song, so sincere and defenceless. A kind of "Half a person" 20 years later

That's a very good way of putting it, I think.

[Stephane]

Interesting. I always thought he expressed himself as being remarkably at peace with his decision to be alone.

If he was really at peace about it, I don't think he would have written so many songs on the subject. I think he's trying to convince himself that he's at peace with it...

Stephane

[King Leer]

This.

Morrissey knows he can't co-habitate with people (cf The Importance of Being...) but that doesn't mean he doesn't have regrets.


If he was really at peace about it, I don't think he would have written so many songs on the subject. I think he's trying to convince himself that he's at peace with it...

Stephane

[Theo]

Dear Lord. I looked at Christian Dior's Wikipedia entry and saw no mention of Morrissey's song. I went to the trouble to add it in. I think I screwed up the whole page for a sec, accidentally deleting stuff I shouldn't have. But, I dunno, I think I have it right now? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian_Dior


Tributes

The Paul Gallico novella Mrs 'Arris Goes to Paris (1958, UK title Flowers for Mrs Harris) tells the story of a London charlady who falls in love with her employer's couture wardrobe and decides to go to Paris to purchase herself a Dior ballgown.

A perfume named Christian Dior is used in Haruki Murakami's novel The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle as an influential symbol placed at critical plot points throughout.

The English singer-songwriter Morrissey released a song titled "Christian Dior" as a b-side to his 2006 single "In the Future When All's Well".

Oh my, is Theo gonna start editing Wikipedia now? Somebody better stop me.