After having my emotions crushed and mocked by Big Balls Chip, being creeped out by by Manti Te’o’s fake dead girlfriend and Notre Dame’s defending of the blatant attention whoring, and realizing that it’s January in Oregon so I have roughly 3 more months of grey sky, rain and everything, the last thing that I needed was for my internet to go kablooey all over broken hardware. A few days ago, sometime in the morning, my internet ceased functioning. Being a 20-something with a decent comprehension of how computers work, I did what everyone would do: turned it off and on a few times, hit the reset, restarted my computer and let it thing about its choices for a few hours. Six hours later, when it still wasn’t working, I finally called to complain about it, only to be informed that the router was kaput and they would send a new one out to me—it is just going to take a while. I had every intention of continuing WTFashion that day, but couldn’t post it, so bear with me, because this entry is, by some standards, dated. I’ll be playing catch-up this week, though, so you’ll get your fashion fix.
The collections might be a few days old, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t fugly.
Moncler Gamme Bleu
Capes, kilts, quilts, plaids, shorts and sporrans (I thought they were glorified cockguards before realizing that they were traditional Scottish fannypacks). All of these things by themselves wouldn’t be so bad, really (who doesn’t love a good plaid? That’s right, everyone loves plaid.),but the execution is so weird and overwhelming that it just makes no sense. There are kilt-short hybrids; weird shirt capes that look like flowing sheets; quilted capes that look like portable sleeping bags; blazers that are quilted, belted and pleated all at once; sporrans flowing in the wind; and another take on the aforementioned sleeping back–but this time partially patent…and pleated. There are just so many ugly mess pieces to this collection that it hurts you.
James Long took a groovy trip to the 1970s and did not come back unscathed. Cuffed pants in obnoxious tapestry prints, metallic sweater sleeves, avian prints, sequins, leather inserts, velvet, floor-skimming robes, and the giant face of Divine on at least two articles of clothing—well, that pretty much says it all. I mean, would I wear a sweatshirt with RuPaul glittered, sparkled and bedazzled in all her glory? Probably, she’s pretty fierce, but Divine? Every time I think of Divine I think of that scene in Pink Flamingos when she enjoys the taste of dog excrement, which, uhm, isn’t a moment I want captured on an article of clothing.
Dolce & Gabbana
The shtick of Dolce & Gabbana is that it’s always slightly tacky and very reminiscent of Prohibition Era gangsters. It’s accepted and expected, just like Versace is nearly always expected to be tacky and over-sexualized. Now, after some pretty bad financial troubles this past year, they needed a collection to wow and fly off the shelves. After pooling their collective ideas, they came up with a unique idea: womenswear as menswear. There were a lot, and I mean a lot of embroidered and silk-print florals, on everything from shirts to blazers to shoes, lace following their fauna counterparts, cropped sweaters, and a couple occurrences of a Swarovski embellished Jesus Christ, pre-, post- and mid-crucifixion, for variety. The result? Try-hard and tacky, even more so than usual, which is really something you have to strive for.
I’m stuck in a vortex between a cameo in Space Jam and the introduction of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
Walter Van Beirendonck
Do people actually buy things like this in a non-ironic fashion? It’s a serious question. If the baby pink sparkly suit, peplum tunic and jewelry wasn’t enough, these were the shoes that they had to wear. Mercy, I feel like I just took a sequined acid trip through a Dali exhibition in Berlin. And, oh, is that tinsel? Holy shit, I AM A TREND SETTER.
Is this a joke? That’s not even a rhetorical question, I am genuinely curious as to whether or not this is a joke. I can’t think of a singular event in which any of these pieces could be deemed wearable. In everyday life, if someone went walking down the street in a crushed cobalt blue blazer that shimmied more than a girl with too much to drink in a club, you’d think they were weird. If you were in a café and someone walked in wearing a collared hot pink mock-bullet-proof vest, you’d think they were either an out of place LARPer or a member of the NRA that happened to be very comfortable with his sexuality. And the green body suit? Okay, one occasion, but unless you are going to a costume party where you’re going as a highlighter, it’s a crime against humanity. This has to be the wardrobe for the next Zoolander movie. Romain Kremer has to be in on the joke. Someone can’t miss the mark this much and not be.