Hello, ladies and gents! This is the last of New York Fashion Week. Our next installment will take place in London, which basically guarantees some pretty ugly concoctions. ‘Til then, let’s take a look at the collections that rounded out New York.
Rags to Riches: the Gatsby edition. It’s all very beautiful and opulent (except for when it’s horribly drab), with feathers, embroidery, gender-neutral coats, and heavy velvet gowns, it is basically the apparel section of an early 1920s film set. RL even offers an alternative to the fur gloves we saw earlier in the week in the form of feather arms.
There are so many words and phrases that I could use to sum up this collection (sequined death, pajama torture, mesh asphyxiation), but there is only one that springs to mind that can correctly combine all of my feelings into a unique, thirteen letter bundle of semi-cohesive fury: Furry hotpants. No, that’s not a new, viral kind of bestiality, or Liza Minnelli headlining at the Ewok stripper convention, it is one of the pinpoint inspirations for Marc Jacobs’ latest collection.
Calvin Klein Collection
This collection is minimalistic with the heaviest fabrics known to mankind while being really weirdly futuristic. Like sluttish Cold War airline stewardesses lived, worked, and propagated in the year 3050, or a movie about a futuristic gladiator arena that take place on mars and has the production values of a SyFy original film.
Somewhere in NYC, after a marathon playthrough of Prince or Persia, in a deserted warehouse, candles are burning in honor of the legacy of Susanna Hoffs. In the center of the room is a wax effigy of the woman, big hair and guitar in hand. It’s majestic. The followers bow and mumble the same chat, the same plea, to the stare of black-lined eyes. “Susanna,” they say, they hum, “we offer you gold in many forms. Glitter. Leather. Fabric. Sequins. Now, teach us. Teach us how to walk like an Egyptian.” There was a clap of thunder, music followed. And then this collection was born.
ICB by Prabal Gurung
When I was studying abroad in Germany I took an extended weekend with some classmates to Berlin. It was at the tail end of winter and even though the streets were dry, when the sun went down it turned pretty frigid. The most memorable, non-history oriented moment of the trip was when the sun had just vanished beneath the horizon and, in less than five minutes, the prostitutes hit up their respective corners. It was freezing by this point, but the ladies (or not) didn’t let that hinder their style. Hooker boots zipped up, tights, booty shorts—standard fair. The interesting part was the modification of puffy jackets, which they all wore, yet in order to keep their enhanced boobage out in public, the jackets were zipped very low and the workers put a corset on over top of the downy warmth of the coats. It was practical, yet job-oriented. That is all I can think of when I see this collection.
Honestly, I should hate every stitch of this collection. I should hate the costume inspiration, the lack of reality, the oversized prints, the clownish makeup, the garishness, the gaudiness, the all-over-ness…but no. I love it. A fairy tale on an Alice in Wonderland acid trip—I’m pretty sure we’re looking at the Queen of Hearts’ wardrobe.
Fluorescent orange. Cobalt blue camo. Any other color camo. Whatever you call those “evening gowns.”This collection is so aggressively ugly that I am creating a new term for it. Fugnacious.