New York Fashion Week Recap: The Coveted, the Hilarious, the Scary
There were great things to come out of the fall 2012 collections at New York Fashion Week. There were the pieces like this, the ones that, when they came down the runway on the bodies of poker-faced models, seemed to almost glow in their otherworldly fabulousness.
Some guy named Aqua represented Philly in the front row of Charlotte Ronson. Aqua, were you scouting these ill-fitting red pants? And Ashanti attended the Falguni & Shane Peacock show in, well, something horrifying.
There was this look from the Marchesa show that I’d wear every day—if I was six feet tall and 89 pounds and they gave it to me for free, that is. The adorable coat! The puff of tulle! Divine. Of course, no designer is perfect, and Georgina Chapman also sent this walking ball of cotton candy down the runway. You can’t win ‘em all, Georgina.
There were other highlights, too. At BCBG Max Azria, models accented beautifully colorblocked looks with sumptuous fur stoles, vests and even clutches. Michael Kors went uberglam with looks like this, and this. Joseph Abboud’s menswear was impeccably tailored and sharp. And Zac Posen went way Far East with a richly toned collection—maybe taking things a bit too literally with ribcage-eating sashes like this.
But as some designers deftly showed their skill, other proved that maybe sometimes less is more. Even just a little tiny bit less. Like here, maybe if we lost, oh, the collar, things would be okay. And this, I can’t help but think that if they’d just edited out the WWE championship belt, this look could be saved.
In terms of super-streamlined looks, Blanc de Chine takes the sartorial cake. Each menswear look reminds me of something that’s already hanging in Steven Seagal’s closet. Like this, for example. Totally Steven Seagal, no? But if we’re talking really pared down, well, we’ve got to hand it to Degen. They pretty much eliminated fabric entirely for this look. Now that is the mark of a true fashion designer. Why work with tricky things like silk and jacquard and cashmere when you can work with nothing? It’s like the real-life emperor with no clothes.
Then there were the makeup disasters. I think the people over at Degen, while they were convincing the boob-flower emperor that she was, in fact, wearing a frock of pure gold, forgot to blend this poor girl’s makeup. But, clown girl, it could be worse. The people at John Bartlett didn’t even let these guys shower.
With that, New York fashion week comes to a close. But just because the runways are dismantled and the fashion flock has retreated to its showrooms and offices and studios doesn’t mean that we still can’t celebrate all things stylish. Take it from this happy guy who, I imagine, is thinking this, as he stands there holding sticks: Fashion is life.