Fashion Week

This week in New York is the world famous New York Fashion Week. Thousands of people flock to New York to take part in this grand performance, this masquerade. Yes, masquerade. Everyone puts on a mask to hide their real selves, whether it be a mask of kindness, happiness, success, knowledge, judgement, or accomplishment; everyone wears one the entire week. And you know how you can spot them on the streets, these attendees, these mask wearers? They all have one thing in common: a smart smug on their face with the idea that they are thousands times better than everyone else in New York, if not the world. They also all make sure to expose their fashion show invitations as if by mistake: "Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to drop my invitation to the Marc Jacobs show on your shoe!"

And I have no idea why God punishes me if I wake up past ten by making the only show visible on my t.v. the Today Show with Hookah and Kathie Lee Stank; listening to these two croonies cackle and squeal to each other about each other just puts a bad rap for every woman on the planet. No wonder men think we're easy, these two bimbos make it look so plausible. And by the way, Kathie Lee, it's Max Az-ree-ah, if you were decked out "head to toe" in his stuff like you claim and continue to sit front row at his fashion show and rub elbows with him later at the after party, you ought to know the man's name. Not that he has much role in the designing of anything, but still, this is no excuse.

Now, to continue my observation of Fashion Week, I was not particularly impressed with Rodarte's Show: I can appreciate a combination of different patterns and new textiles together and element's of fantasy, but the combination they procurred was not very appealing. I did, however, appreciate their use of exposed skin, patches of it here and there on outfits, almost a gradation on other outfits. Speaking of exposed skin, Max Azria seemed to use it as a theme for their collection, a way to tie it all together; slashes of skin, geometric cut outs, and a web of metallic tape twisted this designer's usual "classic chic" look into something more edgy. While Max Azria is known for pushing the envelope from time to time, not to mention the clever way the embellishments are utilized, the collection looked, a little--dare I say this?--90's. It had a definite "millenium" era feel to it, the way the 90's combined the future and the 70's: this was definitely a disco ball of repetition. Funny enough, Halston actually debuted a collection that reminded me of Max Azria's usual style. It was attractive and feminine, whisps of fabric catching the air, the lines silhouetting a subtley of sex and power.

I will save the rest of my rant and rave for another day, I have been inspired to sew my own creations.