I've mentioned it's raining and winding and dooming all over. It's also Fay-shun Week, the last ever in Bryant Park (which is fine by me).
Did you think Fay-shun Week would become (continue to be?) irrelevant because of 'The Reception' and Lindsay Lohan's new post at the House of Ungaro? I know I did.
But, lo...a cursory glance at yesterday's Ports 1961 showing bears some fruit. People who work in/around Fay-shun will always, most-often irritate and grate on one's sensibilities. It's just so much air and also self-importance and anti-intellect and anti-women and trashbox social climbing. However, in 'Reception Times,' though I hear sceney-ness is still on the menu for some (the Alexander Wang tented gas station party does sound fun...), the fête is simply NOT the thing. I'd imagine folks are scaling back. Most Houses are incapable of affording shows, let alone superlavish pre- and post- events. So it's about the clothes, I think, and motif-de-jour, doom. The clothes are marched down runways, the same as ever, but where are they going?--toward shaky editors, shaky retailers, shaky consumers, a ghost audience. The show becomes full pantomime. Here is luxury, take a look, think about what used to be, think about what's coming, or just look, look at luxury.
Ports is a favorite. I'm a sucker for these arty, big silhouettes. And I'm happy to see them consistently (since about 2004), not just scrapped for trendz' sake. Really, there's a range of shapes, including some quite pretty kimono-cum-60's secretary-or-Jean Harlow (dependant on length and textile) sheaths. I love the coats. There is a permanence about these pieces, thoughtful and fem., minimal (even shiny), but not-so slick......matte? Puts me in mind of our Sculpture For Thursday.
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