Well, it’s Tuesday and I’d guess I’m still alive in part due to the folks at Absolut Vodka. Not necessarily because I am on a drinking binge, quite the opposite in fact. My fashion week strategy is always to get through it without drinking–typically makes this time pass much easier. But this is a more a thank you because those dudes have supplied me with a car for the week. It’s been fun not having to wait for cabs and share the gift of transporation by offering rides. Sometimes I bribe people. In one instance, Emily Weiss told me she needed a drink at which point, I did what anyone would do and pulled a full bottle of substance out of the backseat. But back to the shows, more gorilla arms, metallic brocade, peplums, mature silhouettes. Forget Valentine’s Day, yesterday was monumental.
Sitting between Bryan Boy and Rumi Neely at Theyskens’ Theory proved the best kind of sandwich there is. Together we watched a palette of dark and muted colors continue to follow suit a trend continuing to circulate this week. Burgundy accents, mustard yellow silhouettes, I feel like a broken record machine. The usual thick satin maxi skirts make their appearance, so did some very interesting ombre corduroy. Hooker heels were all the rage–I was happy to see a bootie clad in gold heel, gorilla arms but again and to your right, please acknowledge and celebrate the leather jumpsuit, amen.
3.1 Phillip Lim called his collection, “Duality.” The first chunk of looks were set in black and white color schemes and silhouettes typical of the new classic standard. Crepe capes, tapered trousers, and then a shift to greys, beige, navy, burgundy and final punch of orange. Fog emerged from the ceilings to set a mood, evidently too much so had emerged as cameramen in the photo pit proceeded to yell, cut the fog. No photo was hindered in the process though. There’s something to be said about the footwear too, all it is though is: gold pointed toe booties with white heel. Hubba, hubba, call me.
And from the highline stages to Karen Walker at Pier 59 we went. Though the mood was certainly far more playful than that of say, Theyskens, something hilarious must have happened back stage because models were giggles galore. It was adorable. At this show, many more plays on metallic brocade in menswear silhouettes joined the shiny party alongside Rebecca Minkoff, Amy Smilovic, and you’ll see soon: Marc Jacobs, but I was most pleased to see a resurgence of many prints in orange, yellow, green. The obligatory peplum was present and footwear–see right–was expert effort in adding new printed dimension.
This look is only really important because even aside from the pony hair clutch and printed cowboy inspired booties, if you take a peek to your left, you may notice a familiar face. Hi. Front row goodie bags included KW sunnies.
And alas, to Marc Jacobs. Oh, Marc Jacobs. Enormous fuzzy asshats, footwear fit for a leprechaun and so many layers my loins may explode. I was sad to have missed this show, but leave it to a review from Style.com to allow the show’s ambiance to relive itself. The inspiration here was a kick back to Plymouth Rock infused by the ever important street style phenomena of fashion’s livelihood today.
Because really now, if this body abominating work of art: rhinestone pilgrim footwear, iridescent stripes, hip pads and an enormous green fur hat doesn’t say Tommy Ton, what will? Okay now, we’re almost through but not quite yet, so follow me and my Galaxy Note ergo pancake on twitter for frequent updates in 140 characters or less. And “happy” valentine’s day again.