My heart has just now stopped beating over the fashion week nailbiter of getting from the second Oscar de La Renta show at 7:00 (he had two shows back to back because the 25th floor of 11 42nd Street was too small) to Narciso Rodriguez at 8:00, downtown. Before the show a glamorous and lauded stylist offered me a ride in her car, but she left before Oscar started as she was unhappy with the seating arrangements and her best friend had styled Narciso, so she couldn’t risk missing it.
I stuck it out because I needed to be washed in an intense old-school Park Avenue glamour bath to restore my sense of purpose, and because… Galliano had consulted on it! We all know that Anna Wintour had been spotted having lunch with the ousted Dior pirate post anti-Semitic rant, and now, or so the story goes, she had united him with her bestie Oscar. An ever-curious reporter, I wanted to see those two visions of fashion fantasy enjoined. Oscar is the purveyor of an American fantasy, where pragmatics are part of the fantasy—in that vision, your day involves lunching on chopped lettuce leaves with museum board members then a costume switch for a black tie gala. JG’s continental eyes and hands go deeeeeep into the aristocracy’s history.
And yeah… it was GOOD. There were these awesome Galliano touches like extended black cloches under which strands of hair draggled out, as though these maidens might have just been dragged out of a (very clean) mausoleum. Now that Alexander McQueen is gone, he’s the last one who translates the fashion/death relationship (And note, I’m not wholey comfortable discussing his work because that rant was distressing, and shouldn’t be taken lightly. But after these last few days at the shows, I do understand how people might go crazy, and say things they regret).
The glistening Goth princess makeup featured the most astounding, subtle contrasts of shine and matte and glitter. And the dresses themselves had such drama and sweep in their construction. It was also such high level model-ishness (Jessica Stam, the old Dior favourite, was there looking larger than life in a way that some of the new, excessively spindly models, don’t).