Team, I’m doing it. I’m going there. I know you are likely sick to the bone of New York Fashion Week coverage but it is important that you recognize what is coming. It will at very least make for good table talk with like-minded spirits.
Take the following scene for example: You’re at P.J. Clarke’s with a man in a suit. He chows on steak, picks at fries and speaks about the capital asset pricing model. He asks your opinion. Your eyes twinkle. “Sandal boots are really in next season,” you offer. He shrugs, wipes his mouth, leaves cash on the table and walks away. Ka-ching!
But if that doesn’t sound lucrative enough, these particular trends often include baring body parts previously dubbed unbareable. Don’t try and grammar police my ass on that one, I am deliberately punning like bad jokes are coming back in style.
Hey, what a perfect parlay into what is actually coming back in style. Starting with the most fruitful of the bunch:
All hail the bare midriff. Should I have eaten a five dollar foot-long for dinner last night? It was my first experience with the sandwich chain and I was quite pleased so I’ll answer the rhetorical and say yes. Tuna gut, if anything, will add to the man repelling allure of an all exposed belly button. From left: Peter Som, Marchesa, Marc by Marc Jacobs, Edun, Band of Outsiders (face paint acknowledgement,) Marc Jacobs, Charlotte Ronsom.
Meanwhile, still at Band of Outsiders, also at Altuzarra, Alexander Wang and Charlotte Ronson, nipples are in…ours will be out. Yes, this was the ongoing mantra of last week. Yours can take a turn for the similar. Do you have nubic hair? Mull that over.
I’ll skip the rhetoric on no-pants–it’s been heavily indulged–and jump straight into next season’s preferred method of if-you-have-to-wear-pants-at-least-wear-shorts bottom covering. They’re loose and Bermuda and show no sign of what could be a shapely ass which is fantastic. From left: Ruffian, proving converse and knee length shorts get together like a horse and carriage (but not in the politically incorrect animal abuse capacity,) Alexander Wang, Peter Som (these are from a steadfast collaboration with Ernest Sewn,) Mara Hoffman, Tommy Hilfiger.
And on your head, braids or streaks or a purple uni-brow pointing at your nose: it’s like Frida Kahlo traveled to Mars and all she came back with was intergalactic facial hair. Speaking of, see the red cloth weaved into the wrap around braids in figure 4? Season of the Frida. What’s it gonna be? French braided pig tails clipped up and adorned by crystals? A veil by Peter Som and some streaks to go with it? How about pink ones a la Oscar de la Renta and Karlie Kloss (punk tendencies fused with 50s beehive, it’s a brilliant disconnect.) And there’s Naomi Campbell just doing Naomi Campbell.
And over your hair, an array of compelling hats. Not just hats though: at left you’ll see the athletic nunwear I’ve been preaching since the Friday before last (Yigal Azrouel.) Just above it a blue python helmet from Jeremy Scott for more ambitious military marshals. Karlie Kloss rules the world in a coral hood at Rag and Bone, Jen Kao adds dimension to her aesthetic with multi-colored baseball caps. At DKNY it’s kept pretty simple but at Alexander Wang, oh, Alexander Wang. These models looked like human blow dryers. I saw it with my own two eyes. I can’t wait to get my hands on you. Concussion? Not here pal.
And finally, from uptown to downtown, anatomically–of course, the shoe of spring is not a sandal, nor is it boot nor is it pump nor does it make sense. From Hache, Alexander Wang, Altuzarra and Skaist Taylor, what we have here are bandals, or soots, or neither of those terrible hybrid words trying to depict what this is. An interesting compliment to a plain old mini skirt and notable debacle for those who like pants. Perfect, however, for Bermuda shorts, which is nice and timely. The end.
Collages by Charlotte Fassler.