La Mode et La Mort.

I know I said I would ruminate on various aspects of this seasons collections like how Marni, in a sad attempt to become ultra-relevant rather than stick to its own unique construction and ideas, regurgitated literally every trend from last season, or how Comme Des Garcons (and even Prada--what a dud! Oh and Margiela... and Vivienne Westwood [all my favorites have betrayed me! Dont talk to be about Balenciaga; I'm still in mourning]) might have strayed away from "clothes" per se, and instead sent... things down the runway.

I am not going to do those things. They speak for themselves and, let's face it, are a lot less relevant than what is ACTUALLY happening in the world; while art is a great form of escapism, I just cannot ethically justify turning away from the world's current state (it needs help, and I am Super-Man--or a Saint. Whichever).

That said, I would like to name the best collections from Fall 2009:

1. Junya Watanabe--Again, with fabric, he is one of the most impressive sculptors I have ever seen. Also I would have never thought that I could be convinced that Denim on the runway was a good idea. So impressive.

2. Marc Jacobs--For all the Marc Jacobs-bashing I do on this blog, I was infinitely impressed with this collection. The "house of mirrors," the construction and reflective-and-shiny-but-surprisingly-not-gaudy nature of the clothes were amazing and weighty eye-candy (also, anyone who can re-invent the stiletto is impressive).

3. Jil Sander--See below, this collection was amazing.

4. Gianfranco Ferre--This might have been a more pleasant surprise than the Jacobs. I had never really cared to look at a Ferre collection before and our chance-encounter proved quite fruitful; this collection displayed such a flair for a rigidly constructed garment, interesting silhouettes, attention-commanding fabrics, and great shoes.

5. John Galliano--The heavy-attitudes felt by the fashion world in the face of recession necessitated a joke; fashion people need to be able to laugh again (in the face of massive layoffs). Galliano showed one of the most interesting and hilarious spectacles of fashion I've ever seen: a tour of Europe through hat-culture (not to mention the clothes, which were also great).

Check these collections out; it's nice to window-shop (get it? Window, as in internet? Ha!).

Adventures in Retail: RE-Recession

Today at the luxury boutique I work at (we're talking $1000+--and I mean +--evening bags that you'll wear three times in your life), these people came in for a repair. Then we got to talking while this man's wife was looking at a sale bag.

[Upon his wife (in a Burberry pattern hat AND scarf with a huge mink coat) coming up to him with a clutch] Man in Gucci embossed loafers: Hm. I just won a thousand dollars.
Female co-worker: Oh? Did you win the lottery?
Man: No. I told my friend where we were going and that no woman could walk out of the store without buying a purse. When he saw how expensive they were he said I was crazy and bet me a thousand dollars that we would walk out empty-handed. And now she's buying a purse. [editor's note: Yeah. Never mind the 90% of the population who can't afford, much less justify a $2400 SALE clutch.]
Co-worker: Oh. Ha. Yeah. Funny.
Man: Did you know that 95% of people who win the lottery spend it all within 5 years?
Me: I find it hard to believe that you could spend even 30 million in 5 years that recklessly.
Man: No. It's true. People with little money who suddenly come into it just don't know how to keep it.
Us: ...k...
Man: Yeah. And I don't know what this "recession" business is about. We're here just for 4 days but already the restaurants are all packed. People are spending. I don't know what everyone's griping about.
Me: ... umm. Where did you go?
Man: We just went to David Burke [Editor's note: David Burke and Donnatella is a restaurant on the Upper East Side that features a twenty-one dollar PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY], We had to wait for a table. And then we saw "The Heights" and it was packed [Editor's note: :In the Heights" is a popular musical that plays to sold-out audiences... pretty much habitually].
Us: ...Oh. Okay.
Man: Seriously. Where is this recession? It's not even real.

If I ever hear a person who can afford to spend $2400 on a clutch for his wife explain to me that there is no such thing as the economy, I swear. I am going to kill him/her.

And I'm choosing to disregard that he bet a thousand dollars on whether his wife would spend his money.

...So about Raskolnikov's Extraordinary Man Theory...

In Which it is Proved that I'm Way Too Idealistic for my Own Good.

In an article written by Op-Ed Columnist Charles Blow, he discusses indirectly how my approaches and critiques of the black community voting overwhelmingly for Proposition 8, are misguided and do not appeal to the black voters themselves (many whom, blow argues, are single black women who frequent church and are apparently potentially jealous of men marrying each other because they might have been spurned in the past). He plugs it as a health issue.

This is a solid argument that is absolutely logical and probably hits closer to home (Blow argues that if sexual politics were slightly less taboo, black teenagers--who are most likely to have unprotected premarital sex--would be educated and make better sexual health decisions, lowering the prevalence in HIV amongst the black community). Solid.

I wonder, though. Doesn't pandering to a community's fear of death and disease based on it's apparently misguided notions of sexual health and acceptance marginalize the group even more than they are currently? In my Article "Dr. King's Dystopia..." (see below), I thought it was logical to appeal to the black community's sense of history, to their collective humanity and empathy in hopes that they could recognize the similarity in the Civil Rights Movement and the Gay Rights Movement. Appealing to a fear of death and disease is just another form of PR for politics in that we ignore the root of the issue in order to get to a quick goal (hint, this doesn't work. For evidence, see the scapegoating of non-Aryans in post-WWI Germany, and most recently playing on the sensitive fears of the US citizens to send troops into Iraq--a couple significant events that stuck out in my mind that fit the bill; there are doubtlessly multitudes more).

As a minority, I feel a little put off about Mr. Blow (a black man) essentially selling his community out.

Though is he buying the greater good?

Would YOU Kill for that Plasma-Screen TV? Black Friday Indeed.

This article detailing the misadventures of a seasonal employee and his DEATH by TRAMPLING is a great example of American consumerism going just a tad too far. It is also an example of how ridiculous the blame game gets here. The article, through several of its sources and interviewees paints Wal-Mart to be the problem, that it should let its workers unionize, that it should have been more prepared to deal with the mob-like crowds.

Really? It's Wal-Mart's fault that people are willing to trample a seasonal employee to death in order to be the first to get great deals on poor-quality goods? If ever anyone needed evidence of American capitalism ironically killing its own citizens, this is literally it. How can it be true that the instinct to shop is greater than the instinct to help another human being who is dying?

The police should search his body for footprints, match them up to people and then put each and every one of those people on trial for murder.

Dr. King's Dystopia, or: Dear President Obama,

The moment the CNN said "Obama projected President Elect," we were in disbelief. We changed the channel to MSNBC, then to FOX news. When FOX said the same thing, we knew it was true. Then we heard the joyful cries in the street.

"Obama! Obama! Obama!"

We went outside to join them. We screamed, I yelled, I was lost in a mass of happiness, hope, and relief. Of course this would happen in New York City. "This is so GOOD," I repeated loudly, laughing almost maniacally with excitement, faith restored anew in my fellow man, faith restored in democracy. "I have hope. I actually have hope," I repeated, astonished.

It sound mellow-dramatic, but it's true. I was terrified that McCain had a chance (Hey, it happened for Republicans two elections in a row).

We went out on the street where the homeless shelter was awash with happiness, we gave them high fives as we passed and rejoiced, shouting "Obama! We did it!"

We walked uptown and had victory shots of Jack Daniels, the most American thing we could think of at the time. We walked north still, where in every bar with a television no one spoke, the patrons quelled by McCain's concession speech. No one spoke, all eyes were glued to the television. It was as if some disaster has struck and we were all in disbelief. It was, in fact, quite the opposite: hope was restored.

As we got to Union Square, the crowd was immense; a gigantic American flag flowed over the rejoicing bodies. People not knowing how to express their relief, their elation, climbed the lamps and were subsequently arrested. But I don't even think they cared. They had their hope; even the face of arrest, they claimed victory. As people banged on pots and pans, a man brought a bass and played a tune and we all danced to the hymn of the re-instated Democracy, our reiterated faith in each other and our people.

"Finally, I won't have to use drugs as escapism!" I yelled half-seriously--I really didn't feel like I would need to get high ever again.

Others chanted "Yes we can!" or "Si Se Puede" or "This is what Democracy looks like!"

Then a friend of mine came up to me, looking distraught and enveloped me in his arms, giving me a hug so genuine that it felt like I was a child again. "I am so sorry about Proposition 8," he said, "It's so fucked up. I'm so sorry."

"No." I said, "It didn't pass yet, did it?" He was drunk and didn't really know how to respond, but he was noticeably upset.

My friend in Indiana texted me "Have you seen the numbers on Prop 8?"

"No. It didn't pass, right?"

"They're still counting ballots, but it's %51 for it."

My heart sank. My hope was gone "Why do they hate us?" was my only--albeit short-sighted and immature--thought. I couldn't understand. I felt myself losing my drive to be with all these people who I knew could fully enjoy being citizens under their elected official--the Obama that I helped elect, too. I had to leave. I said goodbye to the mob, to the joy, to the hope.

I went home and got high.


In two days time I would read the exit polls, the "crushing defeat for the pro-marriage community" headlines. I would find out that, in record numbers, black voters came out to support Obama, and ironically enough, in record numbers, black voters came out to vote yes on Proposition 8. Sixty-one percent of black voters in California who voted Obama also voted for the ban, versus forty-nine percent of white voters for Obama.

True, this was one of the most expensive issues on the ballot for California in years, and true that a record number of voters came out for this election regardless, but I can't help feeling like it is almost directly Obama's fault that Proposition 8 passed in California.I don't blame him; I don't hate the sinner, I hate the sin.

By enticing the black voters in record numbers in California and also explicitly not supporting gay marriage, he okay-ed their attitudes. He opened the floodgate of anti-gay votes that led to the ban. Like I said, though, I don't blame him.

When Mr. Obama talks about gay marriage, he does so awkwardly, without his characteristic charisma and eloquence. He relies on his faith as a Christian to define marriage to be between a man and a woman. Compared with the rest of his interviews, however, a reader or viewer can just tell how awful he feels about not being able to say that he supports gay marriage; through his clenched, Christian teeth he says to us: "Look, I'd love to give you marriage, but I can only do that if I'm elected. And I know I won't be if I support gay marriage." Okay. We get it. We wanted to elect you, too. I don't blame Obama the person; I'm glad he's here. It is just the most discouraging thing in the world to fight for this man to become President of the United States, to be "part of" this phenomenon, and then be explicitly excluded from it.

"Yeah! We all did it! But homosexual citizens' feelings really just aren't as valid as normal, Christian heterosexual citizens," Was the message there.

I honestly just don't understand where history went. What happened to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr's dream where "one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL.'" That " I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." What happened to Huey Long, the founder of the Black Panthers liberation movement defending homosexuals explaining that "Homosexuals are not given freedom and liberty by anyone in the society. Maybe they might be the most oppressed people in the society." And that "The terms 'faggot' and 'punk' should be deleted from our vocabulary."

Is the Christian black community truly so far from its Civil-rights Era roots of freedom? How does God's Bible trump "Truths that are self-evident?"

I had a dream that "Separate But Equal" was over after Brown vs. Board of Education (a monumental decision that started to destroy "Separate But Equal" on the basis of it being unconstitutional (Hint: it still is)) would hold up.

Now, I have to cling to a dream that one day, everyone will be judged on their character, and not on whom they love. I have to cling to the hope that emptied from before I found out about the decision that isolated me from the happy mass of people that could rejoice in their victory AND their love.

I cling to Dr. King's Dream because, lest it be forgotten, someone has to.

Yes.

Obama Won.

Also, I love Daryl K.

The Beginning, or End, of Hope. You Decide Tomorrow.

As much as Matthew Arnold, my patron-saint of Art criticism, would abhor this blog's involvement in politics(See "The Function of Criticism at the Present Time"), I feel it is my duty as cognizant human being who claims a high taste, which I argue pervades over almost all spheres (taste, not MY taste), to endorse LOGIC.

Or Obama. Same thing really.

Barack Obama is objectively the only decision in this election. This is true. No minced words.

(Never mind that he genuinely wants to improve the quality of life for ALL of American citizens (not just the ones that can afford $150,000 wardrobes, stylists, aestheticians, and to fly her children around the country and charge it to the taxpayers), through alternative energies, standardized health care for all, and finally holding the embezzlers on wall-street responsible for their gross oversights and greed)

This is true simply because Palin has proved herself incapable of filling the office of president.

Oh yes, you read correctly. I wrote that Palin is running for president. This is because by voting for McCain, you are voting for her almost directly. John McCain is SEVENTY TWO years old. While some may argue that this gives him perspective over more than half a century, doctors and people who have a slight knowledge of Biology would tell you that he IS GOING TO DIE. I give him two years maximum.

He survived melanoma, an aggressive skin cancer quite lethal (lethal enough for me to have 3 large scars on my back and chest simply so I could avoid the threat in the future). A lot of people don't survive it. He did. Good for him.

He survived Vietnam. He even survived torture.

He won't release his health records. He can't remember how many properties he owns (around seven?), he can't remember who he's debating ("THAT ONE!" and "Senator Governor" are two of his favorite pet-names for Obama). Because of these factors, we can only conclude that his health is notably waning, and that he has already begun the terrifying descent into senility.

But what about the old adage "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"?

Have you ever seen a cancer patient after chemotherapy? Have you ever spoken to a paraplegic about his desire for a speedy death--through a computer, no less? Actually, the very nature of disease and virus is that you become weaker from it so that it may gain property on the evolutionary playing-field (I don't really recall too many Plague or Cholera patients who claim to be stronger because of their experience, even the ones who do survive). Don't even get me started on the possibility of McCain having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (note, this is bad for a president who potentially has to be in environments reminiscent of the original war-environment).

McCain may be a maverick (actually, he's conservative, kind of anti-maverick by definition), but he is not immortal. He has suffered the wear and tear of existence--Cancer, Vietnam, living almost 3/4 of a century--just passing the average life expectancy in America. That's 69.3 years FYI--and like any physical body, it must die; we all must. But McCain is closer than, oh, say a forty-seven year-old Obama.

In this manner, especially combined with her audaciously public power-driven politics (She thinks the amount of power that the vice-president was given during the Disaster Years (Bush's 8-year term) is not only appropriate, but exciting. Never mind that the Vice President, as outlined in the constitution, presides over the Senate and casts a deciding vote. If they need it. ) she will become the next president. So when McCain inevitably dies a year or two after the election, we will have President Palin the hockey mom, the pit bull in lip stick.

Are you afraid yet?

Oh, you betcha!

The democratic election is a function of a democratic society wherein each member has a voice to say what is best for the country as a whole. NOT just the Christians. NOT just your family. NOT just YOU.

Honestly, I don't know how to end this. I feel like if McCain is actually elected, literally all hope will be lost for America. If we can't learn from 8 consecutive years of undeniable mistakes, we won't ever learn.

Post Script: I can't even begin to talk about the general disgust I feel towards the republican party's desperate tactics to win the election, so read about them HERE .

That Season Between Winter and Summer...?

It is peculiar to me that the color palette for Spring '09 is that of a boring, austere suburban house-interior: soft beiges, browns, creams, or just black. Certainly not Spring-y by any objective opinion. But why? "It's not a time to be ostentatious with clothes," said Tomas Maier backstage at Bottega Veneta. Yes, it's true. The world-economy, save China, might be in a state of mortal peril right now, but that doesn't give an excuse for Art to restrain itself. This season we really saw which designers were Craftspeople, and which were Artists.

The Craftspeople separated into two schools wherein one tried to hard to make classic clothes and made boring garments ugly, and those who made nice, pretty clothes that took no risks, but one couldn't really criticize them consequently.

Ironically enough, Bottega Veneta was the best example of the first school, starting off the show with an ugly leather dress, belted. With an unflattering bust line and more unflattering shoulder-straps:
Leather is not a dainty fabric. So to make a dress that is supposed to be "elegant, understated, and luxurious" as is the motto of Botega Veneta, you have to edit. The size of those straps with the open bust line create a look that is neither elegant nor understated; it's as if she's growing from a pot of soil. The only thing luxurious about this dress is its probable price.

The looks that followed showed more errors in judgment including a leather top and skirt in orange and bright yellow that made the model look more like a pumpkin than anything else, and then a series of strange body suits in matted fabrics reminiscent of Marc Jacob's Fall/Winter '08 show--the one that he admitted outright "lacked inspiration." These body suits are unflattering in pretty much every way: fit, proportion, color, fabric. In short, this collection was a miss.


Overall, these Craftspeople worked within the boundaries of their respective self-restraint, but some fared better than others; Gucci did a great job of both taking a color-risk, and making safe, ultra-wearable garments--also, because of this seasons color palette, these clothes will be re-wearable. Gianni showed, in purple, teal, red, and blue, many looks--from suits to sheath-dresses, and even a hint o safari--that were tasteful, though not quite relevant. It was nice, however, to see her depart from her Russia-obsession. This collection will certainly do well economically:



Other successful craftspeople were Versace, Etro, and Armani (none pictured)--They'll do fine.

I do, however, worry about Nina Ricci; sometimes when we're put under any type of performance-pressures, we revert to rehashing previously successful ideas in an attempt to romanticize the past and make it relevant again instead of taking a risk and attempting originality--an author may write the same novel again and again (Stephen King), or a student may re-write, recycle, or simply plagiarize a previous paper. Unfortunately for designer Oliver Theyskens, the Renaissance is long gone (not that prostitution was ever really a flattering look to begin with...):

Though, I must admit, I had high hopes from the first look--a see through dainty dress with an appropriate tail with simple lines and clean presentation:

Then there was a metamorphosis back through time, from top to bottom specifically. The following look simply doesn't work; a white leather rocker jacket with exaggerated shoulders and a flowing silk dress simply cannot go together. The exaggerated shoulders really throw the entire look off by stealing attention from the fishtail of the dress which is equally wide; we have a look caught between classic and contemporary, old and new--it's like watching an aging rocker-mom at a high-society ball. Painful.


...And now on to the Renaissance:

While this look works better than the previous one because of the color and fabric change of the jacket, again the exaggerated shoulders destroy the effect of the fishtail.

And now, a blending of the shoulders and the dress, or: The Renaissance

It's the creature from the Champagne Lagoon... in the Renaissance; Run away!

It seems to me that so many designers went crazy with constraint to what would be sellable that we get several blatant missteps in taste and judgment. I really hope that Fashion got this slave-to-the-economy business out of its system because, just as tired and boring doesn't sell for prostitutes, it can't bode well for Fashion either.


The Artists that responded to this year's pressures with vigilance and creativity were Raf Simons for Jil Sander, Ralph Lauren, and Rick Owens. Raf Simons and Ralph Lauren are simply masters of the basic, beautiful garment, thus one might wonder if their designs are simply more relevant today than they were last year. Rick Owens was a different story, and we'll get to that later. Either way, they are at the height of their powers:

Raf Simons' show evolved beautifully from the first look: a sculpted fringe dress with a black jacket. Same color palette, different materials, and very creative ideas:

The looks that followed consisted of jackets that played on traditional proportion, and more fringe, beautifully sculpted:
I'd like to add here that this jacket is almost the same proportion as the Bottega pictured, but in a clean, white fabric, not double-breasted with a less dramatic neckline and lapels. It works. You could take away the pants and it would still work.

And this is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. It is also intensely pleasing to see Raf's ideas swirl, intertwine, and produce such wonderful things in such a sensible, beautiful way; the solids and fringes, the color palette, the shaping--one can easily see how this dress evolved from the first look.

Ralph Lauren started his collection off with a traveler, a girl who is certainly going places in her button-up and gold pants. She carries a messenger bag, wears two belts--one that suggests a certain exoticism and the other basic--and is quite ready:


The looks that followed were in a muted palette of beige, black, white and brown, but a quiet excitement still translated: suits in bright white, models wearing turbans suggesting travels and a flair for Orientalism, and some gorgeous evening wear:


This linen dress is gorgeous.

Rick Owens' collection, intentional or not, was a clever quip on the current economic downturn. He reportedly called his girls "Priestesses of Longing," but I wonder if these girls weren't part of some post-apocalyptic cult. Either way, the desolate clothes and post-apocalyptic feel of the show and clothes made me chuckle--at least someone has a sense of humor about the imminent world-depression.

In addition to being funny, though, he showed some very interesting looks: Simple, sparse dresses cut out at the waist, Some fabulous structured skirts reminiscent of Comme Des Garcons creation, and some very ambitious skin-work.


And from these successes, we can see the trends for this season: Classic basics in beige, black, brown, white, and grey and suits, suits suits (and other separates). Though I can't say that I'm excited to see what people are wearing next summer, (can you really imagine everyone in black and grey for summer?) I must say I am interested to see where consumers' buying patterns and what sells.

We shall certainly see.

To come:

-Marni; bulimia on the runway
-The best collections
-When are clothes no longer clothes?

The Current State of the Economy According to Daryk K

And if that doesn't get you, the not-quite-subliminal messaging will:


Cheeky.


Daryl K is located at 21 Bond St (aka 2nd St and Lafayette)

Holiday on Ice: Billie's Inspired Sadness and its Ramefications

I've been listening to "Lady Day" (above) a lot lately. Not really listening, though; one could say I've been experiencing Billie Holiday. She does sadness better than any other artist I've ever come across, and yet, it's the least painful thing to listen to her pour her heart out. I relish it.

I was once talking to a musician co-worker of mine, and while his music tastes are slightly more acoustic and country than I appreciate, the one artist we could hands-down agree on was Billie Holiday; "She's just so real." he remarked.

And with that, I started to understand her mass appeal (not to mention her genius); she has a fabulous, sultry, thick voice that vowels stick to and amplify; beyond the aesthetic experience, she articulates feelings that we've all undoubtedly had--that is, if we've ever forayed into any sort of romance, experienced any sort of rejection, or any heartbreak. And that's it; she articulates her sadness so well that it is impossible to destroy her art with misinterpretation (barring, of course, "Strange Fruit," a poem sung by Billie about Lynching; she reportedly lamented the constant misreading of the song when people would ask her to sing "that sexy song about swinging"--the swinging referring to a lynched black man). Her misery is so pure.

But an appreciation of this sort of frank honesty about feelings requires a question: what's so remarkable about someone sharing their feelings?

She's sharing them. That's what. This is apparently more remarkable than one would think; conversing with one of my friends about a budding romance of hers, she kept trying to explain her feelings without using the word "like" or any other verb of an implied amicable nature. She went back and forth, debating as to whether pursuing the relationship was worth it at all, speculating his wants just a hookup? A relationship? Does it have to be serious? and I stopped her. "Do you like him?" She started at me blankly as if I'd wounded her somehow. She replied point blank "Yes." without hesitation and seemed surprised that an affirmation of a feeling would slip from her mouth. "Oh my god," she said, "I like him."

The feeling was that easy, but articulating it was a bit of a trek, lasting two hours of back and forth conversation. Billie deals in emotions that are inexplicable to her, but she deals so well:

Don't want my mammy
I don't need a friend.
My heart is broken, it won't ever mend
I ain't much caring just where I will end
I must have that man

I'm like an over that's crying for heat
He treats me awful each time that we meet
It's just so awful how that boy can cheat,
But I must have that man

(I Must Have That Man--Billie Holiday)

It's heartbreaking ecstasy.

Balenciaga Mon Amour

I'm honestly conflicted about this season's Balenciaga. I've spent a few months going over the collection (obviously--Fashion Week was months ago), and something about it still bothers me.

On one hand, I'm ready to be spoon-fed anything created by Nicolas Ghesquiere because the man is brilliant. No question.

On the other, however, I wonder if he aimed too high for a single collection. I felt like this collection was an essay with just too many ideas contained in an all-too-short required page length. I, for one, could not truly follow it.

The collection started with 3 "Little Black Dresses" with only slight detailing at the cut-out shoulders and extra fabric at the waist; these dresses set an uncomplicated elegant tone for the rest of the show that was amplified by the thick eye makeup and the jewelry:

1.

2.

3.
Simple enough, right? From here, especially with prior knowledge of Ghesquiere's previous collections and their high level of coherence, one could expect a series of sleekly deconstructed looks featuring favorite materials such as shiny latex and silk. What we end up with, however, is a series of looks that feature the same technique as the spring collection--hand painted silks fused to rigidly structured garments of bra foam.

Certainly these were the most stunning looks shown during this show: visually fantastical jackets with a twinge of Orientalism that cut off to reveal the skirts of dresses with luscious knee-high beige boots. All elements brought to high, high fashion through the use of more jewels.




But how did we get from the little black dress, to this? These amazing looks come from a different world, a world that has no place for the little black dress.

For this collection, we actually have two different ones.

The first one, which features a sleek, clean, tight silhouette of solid colors and metallic stilettos ended with this look: a gray suit of sorts with what looks like a leather vest poking out the bottom:

The next collection starts with another series of three dresses that start to reminisce over the previous spring collection in cut and fabric, followed by a series of velvet tops that introduce color into the collection and then we get those stunning jackets.


Then the velvet:
Both "mini-collections" start off with a series of three dresses, and both are great (as always), but Ghesquiere should have kept with one single idea and deconstructed it all the way to eveningwear.

But then again, Ghesquiere always seems more impressive with every spring (Floral Armor, Robo-fashion, etc). Those collections are grand examples of taking a single idea and translating it over and over; in Fall 08, however, he took two different ideas and failed to reconcile them. Ghesquiere is such a intelligent, impressive designer; he simply might want to think about revision for the sake of coherence.

The Best.

1. Junya Watanabe--Fuck wearability (obviously). The man created 46 sculptures out of fabric and sent them walking. This show was devastatingly beautiful.

2. Ralph Lauren--Nothing but class. And Holy god, those hats!

3.Balenciaga--Nothing but beautiful, intricate, stunning garments.

4. Alexander McQueen--Stunning. Really.


Note: I just don't get Marc Jacobs. I think I started to understand him through this article in the sense of people wanting to belong to his playhouse, but I still don't get it.

The MoMA COLORS party--Where Better to Start Taking Pictures?

It certainly was a lovely night at the Museum of Modern Art on Saturday. My personal favorite was Walid Raad's "Let's be Honest, the Weather helped."

Raad took a series of pictures over approximately twenty years wherein he photographed sites riddled with bullets and shells. That is, he collected ammunition shells from sites riddled with them and meticulously documented their locations. Later, he used the color-coding system of the munitions companies to color his desolate, black and white landscapes:


So much fantastic irony! Such happy colors to represent such horrific violence. Stunning.

And now for the clothes!

These two ladies strike a stark contrast of color and black and white--interesting how the floral trend for spring even exists in black and white, no? But what I really love about the left look is that belt. Too bad I don't have a better picture (Damn open bars!).



This little lady took metallics to a very tasteful level; notice how the sheen of her jacket, dress and clutch don't seem gaudy at all. Tres chic.


This is the first of two block-flannel looks I enjoyed for the night. While not so colorful, the proportion of the outfit is sublime. The shirt and skirt meet at exactly the right point elongating the leg elegantly. Fantastic.


When she told me she'd gotten her entire outfit almost all at once, I immediately said "In God We Trust?" She laughed and said yes. That store is fantastic. Make sure to check out her socks to see the Gucci-esque horse-clip.


My favorite outfit for the evening (SO appropriate):



But let's not forget the dance party:

The Best of Mens '08 (men.style.com is wrong)

Some words on what makes a collection "good" :

While menswear is certainly harder to do interestingly AND beautifully--as opposed to womenswear, where a designer can heighten the drama, experiment more with cut, proportion, silhouette, and the story of the show--some designers still manage to tell a story though their clothes, and still make them beautiful; the menswear scale goes from Calvin Klein (boring, functional, well-made clothes), to Thom Browne (theatrical, well-made, but not so wearable) just as in womenswear it would go from Calvin Klein (the master of boring) to Comme Des Garcons.

Logically, therefore, the best shows would synthesize theatrics with form and function. Don't get me wrong, I love Thom Browne, but you just can't wear this:

... Unless you actually are a conjoined twin. Now there's a niche market.

So here you have it, the best of the best of Fall/Winter '08 (and their best looks):

4. Lanvin

While there's not too much story here, the connecting elements such as the flowered lapels and general air of dandy make the collection complete. Designer Lucas Ossendrijver has his finger on the pulse with the new looser silhouette, and experiments elegantly with what looks like a double-breasted blazer that ties in the front. But then again, Lanvin always shows nice things.

Dandy plain and simple:

Here we see the new silhouette, cinched at the waist:


Here we have a highly structured, serious look offset by the playful exuberant blue bow tie. Fantastic:

Lucas Ossendrijver, himself, modeling his take on the double-breasted blazer:



3.Fendi

As previously discussed (See, Trendwatch 08' MEN, below) Fendi gets the new silhouette right, but also, there's some more experimentation with fur and cut. Everything is well done, simple, yet interesting.

Slouchy sweater with fur. So warm. There's nothing more to say:

The heavy fur trim gets all the attention, but one should not miss the neck of that shirt and the way that coat billows (not to mention that bag):

The cut of this coat is intensely interesting; I wonder how it opens/fastens:

2. Jil Sander:

We always see very basic things from Jil Sander, so it's very exciting to see very basic things go crazy: ridiculous patterns with the same old cuts. The show started with a few basic looks that one would look at and yawn, which preceded the upward spiral of ridiculous pattens for the rest of the show (The order of the looks provided narrative, coherence, sophistication):



Click on the picture to enlarge. Everything about this suit is fantastic. The high-neck shirt, the slim fit, and the moving-mable-rock affect. Stunning, really:

Here, We get humor with the very basic suits of various seasons contrasted with the new shirts inside (also, observe how the colors pop):

I just liked the way this leather coat was so ridiculously slim:



1.Burberry

While there's not too much story here, there are theatrical elements in the set; the leaves definitely fit with the clothes (and the season). The collection does, however have a sophisticated level of coherence through its use of pattern, bags, and hats. Also, I would wear EVERYTHING from this collection, and I would encourage you to do so as well.

A gorgeous pea-coat in brown:

The color combinations of this look are soft, harmonious, and look at that cardigan!

Of course, there has to be a suit:

I'm not sure what kind of material this coat is made out of, but it interests me. It seems almost plastic, especially in the way it crinkles:

This sweater. That bow tie. The hats. Amazing:



The best: Emanuel Ungraro

The best synthesis of drama, innovation, coherence and taste. Ungaro, we salute you!

The gypsy wanderer with the cane starts and ends the show (coherence!). Also the draping in this look is key.

The layering in this look is amazing. In addition, every garment this model wears is gorgeous.


Here we have an answer to the return of high-waisted womens pants. And they're done so well! This look works because of the short jacket, and the cravat. Nothing but good things:

Again, we see the strongest, most sophisticated articulation of the new Silhouette with Ungaro:


Here is our gypsy friend to finish the show in his cloth belt, still carrying his cane, modeling those fantastic high-waisted dress-pants. Nothing but ecstasy, here.




Most Dissapointing: Dior Homme

Cathy Horyn (god bless the girl) said it best:

"[The clothes] showed, in fact, a lack of expert judgment. If the purpose in using high-collared shirts (with dickies sometimes under them) was to extend the line of the black suits — to make the models look taller — why, then, did they look short and rather squat? The answer is the jackets stopped short of the belt line, squaring off their bodies, and the slim trousers were made of a stretch fabric, exposing musculature in a way that wasn’t, well, couture."

Gross, squat-model-making jacket pictured below:

Might I add, this butterfly motif was never readdressed throughout the rest of the show (poor coherence!):

I guess Van Asche didn't get the memo on how to tame the new silhouette (If you're not sure either, see previous post "Trendwatch '08 MEN") :

...Huh?

Is there any reason for this?

Hedi Slimane, we miss you.

See Horyn's full article at: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/fashion/shows/22PARIS.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=quote+the+classics&st=nyt&oref=slogin



But let's end on a pleasant note, shall we? Our gypsy friend will send us on our way: