Lot's Wife

1) Balenciaga

This was fall/winter’s most used piece in editorial spreads. Nicolas Ghesquière’s bubble skirt is exactly relevant: modern, ridiculously fun, gorgeously made. It works almost unexpectedly as being hugely, though almost counter-intuitively, wearable. There is a toughness in material, confidence in couture-light/like showiness, and a downright prettiness in color scheme. It’s nice when fashion editors get it right; this beaded, pumped top and hyper-puffed skirt deserves nothing but accolades.

Balenciaga is a label almost solely about explorations in architecture and volume. Ghesquière has been credited with restoring the label to creative integrity and importance, largely because he isn’t under financial constraints or demands to make a super marketable RTW line. Thank you, Classic bag.

But accessories have sold well regardless. From the show:
The equestrian hat juxtaposed with hoof-esque footwear is wit and smiles galore. The small surprise is the huge hit of the harness platform ankle boots. They were everywhere, a great piece cum Trend. Even Princess Coldstare  was featured wearing them in Thursday Styles. Gross, but they’re still great shoes.

It’s so lovely for a young designer to not just be a namedrop for fashion in the years ahead, but to be a current master (execution, talent) projecting clothes that are forward thinking without tacky “futurism.” Sarah Mower would likely call Ghesquière a “Now-ist.” I like that. There’s not an ounce of nostalgia in these clothes. The romance isn’t in an idealized past, but in an optimistic future.

When I was on my Boyage t0 New York last month, I saw a woman in the above double breasted jacket. I peed my pants and gave her my number. The former stopped her from accepting the latter.

So here’s to you Nicolas Ghesquière. You have my vote for making the best collection of fall/winter ‘06/’07. Now you can die happy.

2) Alexander McQueen

I'll never really get over rolling my eyes about some of McQueen's miscalculations: the transparent, desperately "offensive" "provocations" of the spray paint collection or the "Highland Rape" gross-out fest; no one cares if it was a conceptual Scotland- the models wore tattered gowns, after all. I dredge up the old shit only to applaud the passing of time and its tendency to smooth out even the most obnoxious of Les Enfants Terribles. Or in this case, the quintessential "Pink Sheep" of the fold.

Today's McQueen is less about cheap, annoyingly tawdry gimmicks and more about, like Viktor & Rolf, presenting theatrical runways shows of knockout clothes that are romantic and nostalgic, yet fully and resolutely modern. The only gimmick was (and deserved to be)  well-received: a hologram of a Lady-of-the-Lake-esque  Kate Moss floating in a glass pyramid in the same dress Daria Werbowy had just modeled. It was great stuff.

It's really great to have an alternative to Couture season, to see ready-to-wear shown to the extreme, yet clearly and easily translatable (the stunning peacock-feather gown, the obvious exception). Ridiculous headgear and Victorian excess was paired with super marketable footwear:

There was just something very coy and wonderfully Moschino about seeing airplanes sitting on top of Maria Dvirnik's head. This is where McQueen excels: making you guess if he's honest-to-God serious about this kind of shit. He's not. Or is. Or whatever, but he's not just going for schlock anymore.

So count me in. I'm a fan of Alexander McQueen, faggot black sheep.

3) Jil Sander

Raf Simons, who stepped in at the helm of (and rescued) Jil Sander just a couple of seasons back, is a straight man. I love straight men. I  blame it entirely on my permannoyance with homos in general, especially fashion-y homos (yes, I'm a guilty party); we could also call this internalized homophobia, but I would just argue that The Gays have really tacky taste. Look at this purple monstrosity! I mean, only a misogynist fagatron could come up with this sort of bullshit. OK, granted, this was designed by Donatella Versace, but she's totally the gayest man on Earth.

Point being. Raf Simons is perfectly continuing the work of Jil Sander  (person) by designing refined, gorgeous clothes that are tasteful without ever being boring or looking like full body chastity gear. Simons, like Sander, is entirely interested in cut and fabric. The black dresses at the beginning of the post are basic and unassuming, yet are highly inventive in minimal pleat gathering and length. Wisely, the "dang!" element is in the shoes. The flats are great-- surprisingly dressy. A lot of designers did metallic finishes on footwear this year, but it was great to see shoes with actual big, loud metal detailing.
The platform oxfords are also fucking wonderful-- though I still don't know where the suddon (and, I assume, brief) oxford fad came from. Whatevs, these were done right.
But back to Straight Man. I'm convinced these smart, design oriented clothes come from a mindset less interested in "fucking fabulous!" than in "fucking brilliant." I'm totally spacing on who said it, but Jil Sander has been described as clothes that are designed and executed for the extremely fashionable person that is too smart to be won over by any sort of "wow factor," and would rather have clothes that fit like a dream and work in a seasonless way.
The minimalist, sexless Jil Sander aesthetic is just goddamned perfect.
So, hating homos right now. Loving straight men. Though you'll notice that Simons is going to lose out to a couple brilliant gay men on my final list.
Because I'm still loyal to cocksuckers.

4) Yohji Yamamoto

This is my last chance to hype Robin Givhan's wonderful article about the fall collections that negated the body:

Yamamoto ignores the essential shape of a woman's body to construct a collection that speaks of the space that one takes up in the world. By super-sizing his clothes, he makes the body seem that much smaller and insignificant.

These are clothes about drowning in menswear, pushing aside extra sleeves and collars. It's smart while very fashionable; the clothes that transitioned from this show into stores are great: the year's best trenches, some fantastic takes on the sportcoat and, of course, perfect tailoring.
To understand these clothes, I recommend watching the runway show on Yamamoto's website . The cut allows for perfect and fluid movement. Despite the extreme volume, nothing ever appears clumsy or sloppy. Oh, and there's blue eyeshadow!!

 

Grrrrrrr!!

  OK we all know I LOVES me some bears. There is nothing funnier in this world. And I mean that in a "funny-mmm-mmm-good-laugh-while-we-fuck" kind of way. Two time CFDA runners up Jeffrey Costello and Robert Tagliapietra are just non-stop.

Their clothes are gorgeously not Bearish.

I just love that this HyperAmericanMasculinity thing is so played out in such the opposite way. Tongues firmly in cheek. Except for mine, which is licking my lips.

FourFour praises Chunk.

I praise RUGGED EXCESS.

5) Junya Watanabe

I briefly wrote about this collection awhile ago; Robin Givhan's article  about being made anonymous in clothes/masks is a great read.

Junya Watanabe's alarming collection is great in its juxtaposition between being a comment about terror and violence and about clothes that are actually very wearable and beautifully made.

Of course it is somewhat, if not entirely, disingenuous that much credit be given to luxury fashion when it decides to be political. "War is scary! People are dying! Buy this $2,000 trench coat!" It's ridiculous and not a true act of defiance or activism.

However, it is vital that conceptual design not be wholly removed from the culture and politics of the day. Side-by-side, Watanabe's collection seems more vital than, say, Valentino, because the clothes don't look like they are ignoring the world.

The other reasons Watanabe's collection resonates this season are more superficial: layers of street warrior aesthetic in combat green just look really damn good. Those punked out boots are super sexy.

6) Proenza Schouler

At what points do 1969, 1992 and 2006 intersect? I have no idea!
It could be on the touch generous side, but I think Lazaro Hernandez and Jack McCollough understood their references perfectly--  and made their best collection yet.
In interviews, they ooohed and ahhhed about loving the "naivete" in the work of Cy Twombly and Mark Rothko. They wanted to expand those prints and pallets into rigorous and structured tailoring for a line that is very much out of the early 90's-- and very, very much about what is current. Despite the influences coming from decades past, there is nothing romanticized about those histories.
Nostalgia is not present thanks mainly to the period of Twombly and Rothko from which they borrowed. This is not actually a period of naivete or reactive expression. This is '69: Twombly's scribbles are larger, more alone. They look tired, weary. This is Rothko right before suicide. The pieces that are present in this collection appear to be from the Rothko Chapel. This is his weightiest, saddest work.
the refrences:

That Hernandez and McCollough have such ability to reign in large, fully and previously realized work is surprising and effective. The prints have been deconstructed and paneled into gorgeous and challenging cuts.
So were the boys of Proenza Schouler themselves being naive? And, because of the success of the clothes, lucky? I don't think so. These are smart guys. The sophistication in the influences, and the end results of the clothes, speak volumes about how important these young designers are to American fashion.

7) Marc Jacobs

The great thing about showing a collection about layers upon layers is that retailers have about a zillion pieces to sell. Marc Jacobs, in his camptastic way, suggested that one could do no wrong in the pairing department. Buy it all! Wear it all... together!
Unlike Ann Demeulemeester, the other designer who most successfully pushed the layers look this season, Marc Jacobs's clothes looked roomy and inviting: more about wrapping up in warm practicality than looking ready for combat.
Of course, showing every single piece made for a small gallery of Frump-O-Ville:

(click the image for a bigger, frumpier picture)

The problem with this kind of look is that it isn't really for the unsavvy dresser (I'm talking to you, Rachel Zoe!) Take this  bedazzled oversized T-Shirt: it looks bizarre as a stand-alone (it's a fucking shirt), especially as an evening piece-- yet it looks fantastic as a kick-ass anyday afternoon/running through the leaves look (though still the focus).

Little gripes aside, I love this line. Along with Miu Miu, it was the best of the rich young woman collections. What makes it so fantastic is the occasional gold or animal print thrown in to distract from dreary weather.

Marc Jacobs is kind of the do-no-wrong goldenboy right now. He has every model, the best front row, some of the best reviews. If he would just get a fucking haircut, he would be the perfect man.

 

8) Rochas

sorry for my extended not writing. I'm sure you've all been crying yourselves on a regular basis, hitting refresh, hoping.

anyhow, back to me gushing about clothes that I will never see on a real person. I do live in Seattle, after all.

Rochas, as always, gets length and column right-- but this time, rather than stand-alone pillars, the towers come shooting out of wispy, smoky... smoke? The theme is chimneysweeper, but the actual (and beautiful) chimney came to life-- rather than a person scraping through layers of soot and ending up look like a dying Uma Thurman in that awful version of Les Miserables. Olivier Theyskens showed variety-- sturdy day garb in ladder motifs and softened versions of boyshorts and severely cut tops. But the best floated above the chimney: four or five of the year’s most beautiful and radiant gowns were heightened, shining cleanliness.

9) Ann Demeulemeester

From the stiff coats and combat boots to the expertly draped layered dresses, Ann Demeulemeester had the luxury of doing what she has done well for the past 20 years be the talking points for one avenue of the season's key trends: being piled up in layers and looking like you could, if need be, bash in some poor bastard's face. The cheating fuck.
There were a couple of missteps. An annoying, "What Remains is Future" slogan was printed on a few pieces-- how profound!!!!-- and a series, thankfully brief, of some rather unsuccessful plunging neckline cum cowls with fringe to spare. Whatever, the rest was so good that we can all forgive and forget.