Somewhere toward the Quaker Steel Cut Oats 1877 Shirt also I will do this end of my scrupulous, yearlong quarantine in Woodstock, New York, I started culling and decommissioning tchotchkes cluttering up the shelves (and obscuring the beautiful spines) of the hundreds of art and photography books I’ve collected over the years. In my fidgety boredom that day this winter, I stumbled on the Helmut Newton section, long obscured by a “Smoking Grandpa” tin toy and an orange-and-black Playboy Club ashtray from the 1960s (and, more recently, by a clay figurine of Joe Biden giving Donald Trump the finger, a heartwarming Christmas gift from my father-in-law).
Quaker Steel Cut Oats 1877 Shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt
Those Newton books—A Gun for Hire, Work, Pages from the Quaker Steel Cut Oats 1877 Shirt also I will do this Glossies, to name a few—were all art-directed by June Newton, Helmut’s wife of 56 years (and widow since 2004), who died last week at the age of 97 in her Monte Carlo home. I had bought all of my Newton books in the strange spring and summer of 2000, when I followed Helmut and June around the world, it seemed. I had first met the couple in Miami, on a freakishly cold day, at a photo shoot with Naomi Campbell on the beach. At the end of the shoot, I was invited to the wrap dinner Helmut and June held in the restaurant of the Delano Hotel. Watching the couple—with their signature haircuts and distinctive eyeglasses—holding court that night, I got the sense of two people as a single organism, a couple capable of pretentiousness and impossible snobbery, and yet also earthy and delightfully vulgar. In short, they struck me as deeply modern—the coolest septuagenarians I’d ever met.