Every fashion week (or three), there's one designer who perfectly embodies the mood of the season. For fall, it's Phillip Lim. The sartorial entrepreneur proved he's the uncontested master of ready‐to‐wear with a collection that nailed this year's relaxed/tailored silhouette. Ponte pants (zippered and abbreviated at the ankle) were a perfect counterpoint to oversized blazers and slouchy knits, while slim trousers paired beautifully with unstructured coats and fluid blouses. Even sheer pants, a tricky endeavor for even experienced designers, integrated seamlessly with chunky sweaters and sharply tailored toppers. Though most of the collection adhered to a monochrome palette of black, gray, white, and blue, Lim broke out an unexpected orange hue for the fur trim atop a leather jacket and tomato red for a pair of show‐stopping pants (that, unfortunately, sat a little too high). The ultimate hallmark of a successful designer? Lim's pieces look fantastic on the runway, but they're also what you'll want to shell out for on the retail floor.
My fascination with bejeweled leggings began at Barney's, where I spotted a pair of beaded gold Alice and Olivias extending one sparkly leg from the sales rack. Unfortunately, they were not meant to be, as they were clearly intended for someone the size of Olivia Palermo (and the stubbornly un-stretchy fabric deterred me from even trying). I'd all but forgotten this fateful encounter until Antonio Berardi sent models down the runway in asymmetrical chiffon tunics and embellished leg candy. After seasons upon seasons of dresses (thigh-length, knee-length, ankle-length, calf-length, crotch-length), his innovative silhouette was a genius alternative to tired eveningwear. In fact, I could picture Sienna Miller or Kate Bosworth wearing this on the red carpet - and amidst a sea of short, tight, ruffled, and otherwise unremarkable cocktail frocks, this couture-worthy ensemble will surely stand alone.
A Calvin Klein collection is a traditional minimalist's dream, but Francisco Costa fans greeted a softer, fresher brand of understated for spring. The clean lines were still there, but they were lighter and more fluid than the structured edges of yesteryear. Paradoxically, a relaxing of silhouette yielded an aesthetic that was somehow more precise; tenuous fabric provided an ideal base for such fine-tuned nuances as sheer insets and seamless pleats. "Clothes" was too clumsy a term for these pristine creations, each one of them a distilled masterpiece pure in its simplicity yet unrivaled in its refinement.
Perhaps the mark of true genius is withstanding the testament of time; in that case, Viktor & Rolf's Fall 2008 collection deserves to be ranked amongst fashion's greatest moments. I've seen more runway shows than I can remember, but I still haven't found one remotely comparable. Due to the ephemeral nature of fashion, anything a few seasons old is liable to be hopelessly outdated. Yet three years later (a.k.a. a millenium in the sartorial world), this presentation still feels avant-garde and futuristic. It maintains an innovative quality due to its originality; despite its modernity, it avoids the familiar pitfall of "trendiness." Unconventional and extreme, the collection forwent the stamp of approval for a resounding statement. And what a statement it was. There were no flashing lights, elaborate set, or ostentatious theatrics. Instead, Viktor & Rolf utilized the pure, unadulterated power of minimalistic severity to the utmost. An all-white runway served as an immaculate canvas for a stark, striking collection, while an oversized wax seal bearing "V&R" was the only indication of the designers' names. The word "NO" was woven into the seams of the show, literally, from clothing to soundtrack to cosmetics. The design duo explained that it was a reaction to the fast pace of fashion, yet on a hopeful note, they closed with garments that read "dream on." Impact was the theme of the makeup as well as the message. An army of extraterrestrial amazons marched militaristically in slicked-back ponies and glossy cherry lips, eyes glowering beneath heavily kohl-rimmed lids. An acoustic soundtrack of fast-paced techno mixed with a chorus of "NO"s might have been hard to execute, but it proved an integral element; the dynamic rhythm and cutting edge vibe set the atmosphere for the entire show. The models were as fitting as the music and makeup; in a superb casting, the design duo chose a star-studded team that highlighted the clothes first and foremost without morphing into nameless waifs a la Calvin Klein. In particular, Horsting and Snoeren made excellent selections for the beginning and finale. Dramatically delineated in stark profile beneath the V&R stamp, opener Magdalena Frackowiak cut an imposing (and odd) figure in a coat emblazoned with pop-out letters. Facial expression unwavering and upper body robotically stiff, she strode mechanically as if in a trance, authoritative strut syncing flawlessly with the backbeats. With her severe bone structure and androgynous jaw, she proved the perfect combination of mainstream runway (exemplified by Natasha Poly) and edgy quirkiness (think Ranya Mordova or Alla Kostrometichova). Yet no other model simultaneously epitomized and electrified the show like Irina Kulikova, who rocked the final look. With her towering frame and alien-like features, the 6'+ Russian stunner stood head and shoulders (literally) above the rest as she glided down the catwalk in an asymmetrical column dress, "NO" flaring from the front in layers of curiously starch chiffon. Though the closing number may not have been the most daring, its simplistic impact could not be overlooked. The rest of the garments were fearless in their exaggerated silhouettes, from 3-D foam letters to ruffled collars and fantastically puffy shoulders. Instead of distracting, however, their over-the-top character was exactly what constituted their appeal. In other words, it was high fashion at its finest. Critics *cough cough Style.com* may have complained that such efforts were gimmicky, but they've clearly forgotten that fashion is more than just the clothes. It's about an image, an idea, a sentiment. And Viktor & Rolf captured that perfectly.
I know I've been posting old stuff lately, but this is too good to overlook. Throbbing techno and gothic minimalism set the stage for Nicola Formichetta's fall showing for Thierry Mugler. The clothing was relatively simple, but the atmosphere made it spectacular. The striking paradox of ornate (pillared runway, ostentatious poses) and simplicistic (sleek ponytails, austere ensembles) meshed seamlessly with Mugler's darkly modern aesthetic. The random appearance of Lady Gaga, surrounded by a halo of red light as she took a drag on her cigarette, was surprising (yet strangely symbolic). So, too, was her ability to strut in ten-inch heels on a slippery surface where even professionals seemed shaky (although I suppose she has a lot of practice from those Alexander McQueen shoes).
Gaga certainly stood out amongst Formichetti's elegant, shadowy wraiths, who glided down the catwalk with willowy arms beckoning amidst arching wood columns. These were no Christian-Dior-clad princesses or buxom Louis Vuitton housewives. Mugler's authoritative women walked with purpose (despite a few stumbles). Yet Formichetti didn't equate power with masculinity. These women owned their sexuality, flaunting pushed-up cleavage in low cut necklines and tight mesh shirts. No other collection so perfectly epitomized the modern-day urban woman - confident, street-savvy, and unapologetic in her femininity. A certain blonde, sailor-mouthed singer would wholeheartedly approve.
Gaga certainly stood out amongst Formichetti's elegant, shadowy wraiths, who glided down the catwalk with willowy arms beckoning amidst arching wood columns. These were no Christian-Dior-clad princesses or buxom Louis Vuitton housewives. Mugler's authoritative women walked with purpose (despite a few stumbles). Yet Formichetti didn't equate power with masculinity. These women owned their sexuality, flaunting pushed-up cleavage in low cut necklines and tight mesh shirts. No other collection so perfectly epitomized the modern-day urban woman - confident, street-savvy, and unapologetic in her femininity. A certain blonde, sailor-mouthed singer would wholeheartedly approve.
If a microshort-clad Kate Moss with ciggy in hand was any indication, Marc Jacobs went all out for his fall collection. Not that Marc Jacobs ever really holds back - the word restraint probably doesn't exist in his vocabulary. Every season, he never fails to uproot our sartorial preconceptions, for better or worse. Remember, this is the man who was fearless enough to send tasseled kimono pajamas down the runway. His style is impossible to pinpoint; if there's anything to be said about his clothes, it's that they're unpredictable. In fact, "clothes" is somewhat of a loose term to describe Jacobs's creations. These outfits were topsy turvy, from the patent leather corsets worn outside the shirt to the respectable jackets paired with nothing more than hose and glorified underwear. Sometimes they were downright nonsensical, as in giant furry dresses that made one model look like a perambulating evergreen and the almost comical sloping shoulders of Teflon-grade suits. There were plenty of haphazard references, too, from the slightly odd to the outright bizarre - such as a sinister-looking French maid with a feather duster and scantily-clad Russian soldiers (complete with prison gates, castle guards, and LV-emblazoned hats). As with all "great" collections, it possessed massive quantities of the ironic ugliness Lagerfeld & Co. seem to love - but as any "respectable" fashion critic will tell you, that's exactly why it's so genius. A severe case of the emperor with no clothes? Methinks so.
.... and again, Marc Jacobs snags the title from Jean Paul Gaultier for the most unwearable AND most unflattering collection:
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| White tights and lace shoes ... the horror! |
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| Diseased looking fabric |
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| This might be cute ... on someone over 70 |



















































