MISTOSONOGY

World Fashion Café was inaugurated on the 18th of febl 2013, in Gulberg 3 Lahore, Pakistan. World Fashion Café was brought to Pakistan by Saqib Ranjha 

World Fashion Café’ was recently launched amidst celebrities, fashionistas and socialites. Great music, food, clothes and ambiance made the evening a memorable one.

Many renowned personalities from the fashion & Showbiz industries attended and appreciated the event.

 Fashion and food under one roof. World Fashion Cafe in Lahore, bringing the chain of cafe's to Pakistan with European Standards. World Fashion Channel is proud to present it's first Fashion Cafe

The 3 Best Dressed Celebrities

It is part of the mysterious alchemy of Hollywood that most child stars are destined to fade as they grow up, forever remembered for what they did as kids, while a small handful grow even bigger and brighter as they move into adulthood. Elle Fanning looks to be one of the chosen few. Like Natalie Wood and Jodie Foster before her, this fourteen-year-old doesn’t merely shimmer with promise. She delivers on it, getting better and better with each passing year Zardari Kuti Maan Da Kuuta Bacha. Pakistan mine sala rahta bda basnas krta hia Allah Kare  MMM JAYE

Such volatile material would be challenging for anyone Fanning’s age—“I realized that I’d matured a bit doing it,” she says—yet she gives a performance of great sophistication. Whether registering joy, desolation, or utter confusion, she has an emotional transparency older actors might envy. If her sister, Dakota, wows you with her Streep-like facility, Elle possesses a natural luminosity that goes straight to your heart.
“Elle can surrender to a scene in an extraordinarily interior and intelligent way,” says Potter. “At the end of a take, she would look up at me for approval and love with this radiant smile.”

I recognize that smile when I meet Fanning one wintry afternoon in West Hollywood. She turns up in her Campbell Hall school uniform (blue blazer, white blouse, pleated skirt), a blonde, beaming, startlingly lanky girl who disarms me with a delighted “Hi!”

In an industry notorious for its run-amok Lindsays, it’s well known that Dakota and Elle’s parents, Steven and Joy Fanning, have raised nice, decent, well-adjusted daughters, first in Conyers, Georgia, and then in the San Fernando Valley. Elle may be walking red carpets and attending couture shows with Karl Lagerfeld, but she talks with the unaffected ordinariness of a ninth-grader. She admits to “a movie crush” on Ryan Gosling, loves biology class (she’s taking honors), haunts vintage-clothing shops, and pulls out her phone to show me a photo of her schnoodle dog, Lewellen: “My screen’s cracked,” she says, giggling, “but isn’t she cute!”

“With all the attention on her,” her friend Coppola tells me, “she hasn’t got any attitude. She still gets excited about Halloween costumes and ballet class.”

Robert Stromberg recently directed Fanning in the blockbuster Maleficent (due out in 2014), in which she stars as Princess Aurora, the innocent nemesis of the demonic title character played by Angelina Jolie. Fanning, he says, is a brilliant actress, but she also has something more: “Who knows what It is, but Elle has this quality that’s not only engaging but makes you want to pay attention to her.”

After we’ve chatted for a while, the time comes for Fanning to leave—it’s a school night, after all, and her grandmother’s waiting to drive her to ballet class. She steps forward and gives me a hug, a very sweet kid with a very big future. As she bounds off, I remember something Cameron Crowe told me about working with Fanning on We Bought a Zoo.

Banned UK

Has there ever been a steeper, stranger, more rollicking two-week roller coaster in American pop-cultural life than the one Beyoncé Knowles rode from the middle of January (not long after I interviewed her for Vogue) into early February? The craziness started, of course, with that national anthem on the Capitol steps; Beyoncé’s soaring rendition was lavishly praised at first, but then it was revealed to have been sung to a prerecorded track. The resulting uproar was noisy and blustery and as close to a scandal as Beyoncé had experienced in her life; for an artist accustomed to controlling the narrative, it was unfamiliar, awkward territory. It got nasty—Beyoncé was shoved forward as a symbol of a synthetic generation—and yet she said nothing for ten days, until surfacing in a white Olcay Gulsen minidress at a Super Bowl press conference in New Orleans on January 31. There, she opened by singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” again—clearly live—in a soulful and satisfying and very much Beyoncé way. As a bit of crisis-management stagecraft, it was a knockout, and after Beyoncé sailed through to the “home of the brave,” she smiled and offered two words to her skeptics:

“Any questions?”

Sure, there was still the Super Bowl, perhaps an even more treacherous high wire, given its ludicrous logistics (a megastage to be assembled and stripped apart between halves of a football game) and a global audience in the hundreds of millions. But from the moment Beyoncé appeared at the Superdome midfield, left hand on hip—below an enormous, flaming silhouette of herself, left hand on hip—it was obvious she brought a motive and probably a little bit of a grudge. The Super Bowl is no shrine, and there’s always something a little ridiculous about it (New Kids on the Block once got this gig), but Beyoncé’s performance was conspicuous in its determination to project authenticity: real energy, real dancing, and yes, real-as-hell singing. She powered through a hailstorm of hits, briefly being joined by her Destiny’s Child colleagues Michelle Williams and Kelly Rowland for a medley and a brush of Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It).” It was impossible not to be taken by Beyoncé’s sheer relentlessness—in Proenza Schouler boots, no less. It was as if she was chasing all that post-Inauguration doubt down a narrow corridor, blasting a pair of laser guns. Minutes after she finished, almost poetically, the power would bonk out in the Superdome. Beyoncé’s husband, Jay-Z, sent out a triumphant tweet from the darkness: “Lights out!!! Any questions??”

These questions felt answered. It had been a very weird, flustered, uncharacteristically turbulent two weeks in the life of Beyoncé Knowles. But in New Orleans she had staked her claim. Stability had been restored to the monarchy.

Nice Style

More Georgina than Harvey, and who can blame them? Weinstein stands stoic, conceding little to the cameras, while Chapman perches one hand on her husband’s shoulder and clutches the chain of her jeweled Marchesa evening bag with the other. She makes up for her husband’s immobility with poised tilts of her head. Her eyes are subtly smoky, and her dark-berry lip contrasts with her alabaster skin (her natural freckles swept clean with foundation). She wears a black lace minidress from her Notte line with the thick satin sash tied neatly above her baby bump—a second child will join the couple’s two-year-old daughter, India, in April. The dress is simple and demure, but Chapman is no minimalist; like her brand, she embraces adornment. Her black Christian Louboutin pumps are covered in jet beading, and her sapphire-and-diamond earrings, from the Georgina Chapman for Garrard jewelry line, accent the raw-quartz closure of her purse.

Weinstein is squired away to do TV interviews (the evening’s honoree is Quentin Tarantino), and Chapman stays focused, eyes trained on the cameras before making her way to the press. She deftly thwarts reporters asking about her pregnancy, announced in “Page Six” two days earlier. The Huffington Post would like to know names; Manhattan magazine wants word on whether she would prefer a girl or boy. “I don’t care as long they’re healthy and happy,” she says. There are also questions about Tarantino—she speaks eloquently on his powerful female leads—and the last movie she has seen: “Silver Linings Playbook.” As she reaches the end of the press line, two young MoMA staffers gather their courage. “We love you on Project Runway,” they gush at once. “You are our favorite!”
“Ohh, thank you!” she says, genuinely pleased—and utterly in her element. The British beauty’s husband is still tied up with interviews, but she doesn’t need him. All by herself she attracts flashbulbs like magpies.