The Good
Prada. “Whatever her reasoning, Prada keeps fashion interesting; she triggers conversation. Long lauded (and sometimes mocked) as a fashion intellectual, she’s also willing to risk high silliness in the name of style. (Spring banana skirts, anyone?) It works because behind all the provocation is a rare talent; season in, season out, Prada makes powerful statements with her clothes.” WWD.com
The VERY Good
Jil Sander. Volume is not an easy sell these days, nor can everyone wear it, and that’s why Raf Simmons is one of those “I don’t really get it” designers that’s a bona fide genius.
The Horrific.
Gucci. OMFG. WTF.
-Isabel
Filed under: Musings
Alberta Ferretti, I love. Her collections are always muted, always intensely feminine, and year to date, no one with the physical proportions of anyone above a size 38 tries to fit into her designs, so even if the colors are bright and bold, the separates always look somehow angelic.
FW 2011 started as the most 70′s-inspired collection since Derek Lam SS ’11 and then (admittedly, randomly) transitioned into a procession of Ferretti’s signature diaphanous, sequined gowns and shifts. To respectfully disagree with Tim Blanks (Style.com) who mentioned the collection was disjointed, I’d like to argue that the Ferretti woman, the one who has tons of cashmere sweaters, invitations to ski chalets on every mountain in the Alps, a horse or two, a European boarding school background, and a secret drug problem/lover/child, totally loves this collection for their cold weather wardrobe (and trust me, she has a cold weather wardrobe). The wacky crack patterns down the front of the dresses and the floor-length caftans are items that NO ONE but the aforementioned woman would wear.
And that’s kind of awesome. Brava.
-Isabel
Filed under: Alexander Wang
Alex Wang’s niece during NYFW.
-Isabel
Filed under: Burberry Prorsum
For Fall/Winter 2010, Burberry Prorsum presented one of the most awe-inspiring and talked about moments of any runway collection in recent memory – the high collared shearling aviator jacket. Christopher Bailey created the fashion equivalent of the best orgasm ever, or drugs without their eventual come-down effects – an editorially appropriate but with pitch-perfect consumer crossover capability statement piece. Woah I’m wordy this evening. I’m addicted to Words With Friends, get it now, add me, except I can’t tell you my username, because it’s my real name, and it’s not like we don’t have enemies… maybe making a new one right now.
Burberry Prorsum FW11 had NO such moment. No where close. The show opened with a pretty f*cking terrible late-70′s early-80′s color palette, on coats that looked wildly and obviously Balenciaga-esque. I don’t need to ever see a burnt red, tulip-waisted wool coat ever again, thanks. Also, didn’t love the plaids – they didn’t seem fully… realized? They seemed easy.
On the flip side, there were some high-points, but not defining looks. These occurred when the more familiar and edgy/cool/Brit Bailey designs showed up. A partially fur-sleeved trench. A more appropriate fall color tone. Cute finale with tiny see-thru capelets for snow protection. ONE THING, though, that I just remembered – I really liked the work-out pants on all the girls. Super-slim. Burberry Prorsum was so leggy. I loved it. Also, kudos for Jourdan Dunn opening and closing, and more kudos for Burberry’s remarkable live-stream. Kate Bosworth looked f*cking amazeballs. -Elliot
Filed under: Jonathan Saunders
London is speeding away, next thing you know Milan and Paris will have come and gone, and the storm will all but evaporate in to the warming spring skies over New York and Europe. I feel kind of… lovely, being in New York City right now. The sensation is akin to, say, how one feels in a Florida rain, or watching pyrotechnics under a gray sky, or sitting on a city bench counting cars race through puddles… is this far too emo for E+I? Do you vaguely know what I mean? It’s like that heavy, tired awareness of something electric, something about to change, something to celebrate. Winter is finally f*cking ending.
Strangely enough, perhaps this overall feeling of transition in to a warmer place both geographically and mentally has to do with next year’s Fall/Winter season – which, if anything can be said of fashion month thus far, promises to be another rainbow-trip (albeit with a bit less saturation and a bit more consideration, in my opinion). We saw Proenza’s brilliant pixelated Southwestern Native American prints (f*cking Proenza always makes me jealous of people with incredible color pairing skills. This group includes Jack and Lazaro, Tomas Maier, Raf Simons, and Jonathan Saunders who is reviewed below). We saw fire-engine red lips and shoes at Ralph Lauren. The list goes on. In the New York Times this morning (2/20), one journalist states the overall trend of NYFW was “pure Americana,” which in a sense is true (Rodarte most obviously). But are the European shows going to be purely Americanized? Doubtful. Here’s to hoping the sense of Americana keeps going, that is, a vague utilitarian/working man aesthetic, but dripping in all forms of color as seen so far.
Jonathan Saunders can always be relied on for color, and for FW11>12, he did an excellent job. A really excellent job, actually. He started in his blocked and strong mold, and moved in to florally abstracts with the occasional avian element swooping between the turquoise and white and red foliage. Some looks, such as the one above, seemed slightly Indian inspired. Imagine being at a garden in Mumbai, a sunshower having just ended, and this girl (below) walks around the corner. Sex.
So, with an acute consciousness of the fact that I’m getting cheesy today, Saunders will certainly contribute to what I hope will be a much nicer fall and winter. He’s fashion’s pyrotechnician, perfect for little explosions to brighten up the cold and the dark. -Elliot
Filed under: The Row
Isn’t that the truth. Just because I’m bleary-eyed and disoriented and disconnected from the world in the seventh circle of hell otherwise known as Las Vegas doesn’t mean I’m not watching the shows! No ma’am. Even if it means hiding in the back corner of a stock room with a laptop, I’m with Elliot in spirit at NYFW (and oh boy is he here in spirit with me….)
Let’s just dive in the pool. With some Olsen twins.
I’ve always loved The Row and even considered paying the astronomic price for one of their silk jersey t shirts or cashmere car coats. This time around, their FW 2011 collection was phenomenal and looked, to put it plainly, EXPENSIVE. As expensive, in fact, as it actually is.
I don’t think I’ve seen anything on the runway that resembles Loro Piana–the only label I’m going to wear when I’m 70 and older–and that’s exactly what The Row looked like. An incredibly luxurious, beautifully tailored, but cool as f*ck luxe Italian fashion house that’s been around for twenty years. Except it’s new and I want the entire collection to wear every. single. day. Every decadent fabric (velvet, leather, lace, furs oh my!) was brilliantly placed somewhere in each look, yet each look was something I’d wear to Lit one night and the King Cole bar the next. Which is a totally plausible sequence of evenings…thus solidifying the reasoning behind Ashley Olsen’s impending decision to send me the three looks pictured above.
-Isabel
More Words Of Profound Fashion Wisdom:
- Ming Xi is actually, as of 2:56PM on Wednesday 2/16, my favorite f*cking model of the season. Her cheekbones could literally finely slice deli meat.
- I went out last night, head foggy in comatose exhaustion, the world flying around in space, all of that existential “What am I doing?” bullsh*t included. Looking around my group at The Bowery Hotel (for Jen Kao’s after-party), I realized we were all suffering, working ourselves to the bone/drinking ourselves through the maelstrom. Someone uttered, “I’m definitely not going to the V Man party after this. I’m going to my Tempur-pedic King sized bed, with a Hot Totty, and hopefully that boy over there to snuggle with.”
- Phillip Lim is a genius. The first look blew my mind. He is the one designer that truly falls in to my mental rhythm – that is, he strips and cuts down drama to the point where it isn’t visible. It’s cold, hard, clean, well-designed clothes that Lim does best. Actually very WASPy in context, if you ask me.
- Jeremy Scott made a funny by showing shirts with “MILK KILLS” emblazoned across the sternum. HILARIOUS, because he always shows at Milk Studios. Look, it’s E+I’s friend Mateus walking in Scott’s show!
- Rodarte… so pretentiously disappointing. Though hair and makeup was spot on. Clothes were Kansas Redux, floor length Great Depression-esque coats and dresses in dowdy patterning. Red (referencing Dorothy’s slippers) dresses didn’t work. PRINTS OF AMBER WAVES OF GRAIN on silk dresses OBVIOUSLY didn’t work. I appreciate Rodarte, I think, but to say I was underwhelmed is being generous.
- Ralph Lauren tomorrow. Proenza Schouler today. Then the circus jets over to the UK and peace returns to this city’s lean mean streets.
-Elliot
Filed under: Musings
What I’ve learned about NYFW: Trials and Tribulations of Model Wrangling and Gift Bag Packing
- I now know that these new “it” models who look so non-important in print are actually f*cking stunning in person. Namely, these ladies are Arizona Muse and Daphne Groenveld. Also, Joan Smalls is beautiful in person, in that smokes-cigarettes-and-is-bitchy kind of way. Joan is henceforth my new obsession for this reason. She seems like someone I want to have over for dinner, get in a huge fight with whereupon she kicks through my dry-wall, and then we reminisce outside in the cold ripping hand-rolled cigarettes whilst sharing a Pendleton blanket, and pointing at the stars and laughing at memories of un-beautiful yet somehow unforgettable people from our past.
- A model glances wantonly at a danish. If only she could eat that danish. With a quick glance over her shoulder, a slouch in her back, she turns away with tangible strife. Her only food today will be a Fiji water.
- After parties with celebrities should not include your company’s employees. That’s what holiday parties are for. Don’t spoil the kids.
- Marc Jacobs runway show was in my top five most disliked collections of all time.
- Doesn’t it kind of suck when twenty thousand Japanese bloggers take your picture because you’re wearing Rick Owens and new Prada espadrilles, and all their business cards aren’t in English? Doesn’t it kind of suck more when you realize you had food stuck in your front teeth?
- Lincoln Center lacks the grandness and simultaneously, the intimacy, of Bryant Park. RIP Bryant Park.
- Not really loving anything out of NYC this time around. Mehhhhhh.
- Did I mention, I f*cking hate NYFW? The criticism of its overproduction from last season represents a small fraction of the animosity welled up in my blood. The Jane should never be so crowded as to people being forced to stand on the stairs because there was no available space otherwise.
- Mini-highlights: Vera Wang – excellent, lots of pleats, phenom casting. Thom Browne – loved this patriotic fur look. Victoria Beckham – militarized rigidity. Growing on me season apres season.
I think I lost 15 pounds in the past 48 hours. Good night, it’s a quarter til 2p EST!
-Elliot
Filed under: Musings
And thus taking style inspiration from this photo. Happy Valentines Day to ME.
In-depth, wildly brilliant analysis of Vegas to come shortly. In the meantime, read Elliot’s brilliant posts (he’s there/I f*cking miss him) and listen to old Killers songs.
Bye.
-Isabel
Filed under: Simon Spurr
