costume national / thomas engel hart

I'm not sure why I've blogged so much about menswear/men's fashion in the past. Perhaps it's because the things that piss me off about womenswear hit too close to home; even though women's fashion creates a better show and spectacle during Fashion Week, I can't help but think about how impossible half of the clothing is...not just that it's impractical, but it's designed with a narrow spectrum. It's what bothers me a tinge about Rad Hourani's unisex designs; it's not legitimately designed with all genders in mind, rather the sort of androgynous ectomorph that already has his/her pick of the litter for fashion.

So rather than post about pre-fall (which, let's be real, I have no fucking clue what pre-fall is, and it seems there are only two weeks in New York when such "transitional" clothing would work so why bother. It just seems like a supply/demand financial invention to me), I turn back to menswear. Truth be told, I haven't been paying much attention to Pitti Uomo F/W 2011 either. I probably won't until soundtrack lists come out and I discover that Riccardo Tisci used more coldwave or witch house or some nonsense.



costume national a/w 2011
Speaking of a music influence, apparently Ennio Capasa's mood board for Costume National included a photo of James Chance, whose no-wave jazz noise is a decent counterpart to CN's "rebel tailoring" theme.


He's definitely one of the most enduring figures of the NYC scene; the way he and the Contortions (or the Blacks, or when he was with Teenage Jesus and the Jerks) combined real improvisational funk skill with the squawking, punk-rock rhythms of the time--not to mention his penchant for serious concert beatdowns and a mean fist--has stood him in good fresh stead.

Costume National's collection is the only one that I've been really interested in thus far, and I think (for a high-fashion, high-sex label) the tailoring is decently analogous to Chance's music. Classically slim suiting is undone by raw edges, leather lapels, and heat-fused fabrics, and I have a real thing for turtlenecks and mod mohair sweaters. I don't know why; I was obsessed with CN's monochrome-blocked turtlenecks from A/W 2010, and do not get me STARTED on the perfection that was Jil Sander A/W 2008. I guess it's a New Wave, floppy-haired underachievers thing. Chelsea boots? Say no more.


thomas engel hart x underground
Well, actually, say more. As a designer, Thomas Engel Hart--a key figure in NYC's art/club scene in the nineties himself--has a flair for getting my not-so-well hidden punk screaming with joy. He's another who'd better move into womenswear, stat. I love it when designers play off youth cults; the aged cult members themselves (skinheads, mods, what have you) may not appreciate their teenage rebellion being co-opted by a consumer industry, but it looks damn good. TEH designed these boots in collaboration with Underground, pretty much the #1 winklepicker provider on the internet. They were available at Opening Ceremony, but tragically went out of stock before I could get my hands on a Men's size 9. (I have gigantic problem feet; the only sizes still available are the tiny men's sizes specially designed so women could order them from OC.) Mark my words though, they will be mine.

final menswear bits and bobs

PRADA
I go back and forth between tepid love and hate for Miuccia Prada. I don't think I could stand her as a person; she's notoriously sizist and Prada's casting is some of the most white-washed in the business. THAT SAID, as far as a show is concerned, she can create one hell of an atmosphere, and her Spring 2011 menswear show was no different. The staging was imposing and futuristic: a giant, elevated runway of metallic grids and concrete columns under hot white fluorescents, an industrial setting that looked like the bunker of a spaceship. And the soundtrack by DJ Frederic Sanchez was extraordinary--as the lights snapped on, the models marched out to a pulsing, mutated remix of Bauhaus' "Bela Lugosi's Dead" layered with two versions (Jeanne Moreau and Ingrid Caven) of "Each Man Kills the Thing He Loves." Hence the video instead of photos.
Oh, fashion shows are about clothes. Well, it was nice to see some vibrant colors in a season whose palette has been overwhelmingly dark and moody, and I liked the idea of a super-slim, aerodynamically athletic business suit, but...she made scrubs out of denim. Moving on.



ALEXANDER MCQUEEN
Sarah Burton was, ultimately, the right person for the job. Anyone else (I know rumors about Gareth Pugh were flying around for ages) would have been too easily identifiable in their own style, and as Lee's right-hand woman for years, she knew the aesthetic and she was instrumental in putting together his unfinished Fall 2010 collection. Her first runway presentation was a no-fuss, shock-free collection that showed hints of McQueen's most memorable shows--vampire robes and Victoriana--the ever-present photo-prints, and his history on Savile Row. The degradé work was amazing, and I loved the new shapes and silhouettes, particularly in swinging coats. There's still a spark missing... but I have faith.



NEIL BARRETT
I've said before that I want every piece of Neil Barrett's Fall 2010 womenswear in my closet immediately. Minimalist, monochrome, a little sexy in skintight leather, and featuring NICK CAVE GRAPHIC TEES, it is the collection I would enthusiastically point to when asked about my day-to-day aesthetic. Menswear is no exception; a little more wrinkled and relaxed than Barrett's previous outings, it was nonetheless punky, sharp, with a great don't-give-a-fuck attitude. The layered sheer tops are a must.



ANN DEMEULEMEESTER
Jarring to start with and clever in the end, Ann Demeulemeester sent out a collection of clinical, pristine white clothes stripped of layers, volume, and any accoutrements that would draw attention away from the body. And the show was over just like that.
Except when it totally wasn't, and the models walked out again sporting detail-for-detail duplicates in black, the cotton of the white half replaced by leather in the black. It was an interesting experiment that toyed with the audience's emotions; one would think that black leather would be far (metaphorically) darker and more imposing, but white is fucking sinister. Demeulemeester's white comes from fencing gear, straitjackets, and Patrick Bateman's raincoat. Intriguingly threatening, but definitely cool.



JOHN GALLIANO
John Galliano is always fun. He knows how to give the audience a spectacle, and more often than not, it's genuinely enjoyable and thrilling. This collection was genius: part Charlie Chaplin (the super-tight jacket and baggy trousers seem to be a major trend for spring, and the Tramp's costumes brought the shape to its logical extreme), part Death in Venice (lit nerd time: both von Aschenbach and Tadzio are represented: overly made-up models in mosquito-netted boater hats and white suits for the former, Lido-ready bathing suits for the latter), part futuristic Hollywood in the finale's lace and leather...the man knows how to make movie magic.


...oh yeah, there's one glaringly obvious designer missing. It's a given that I loved Rick Owens, because there was tons of black, monster boots, sheer tops, and shrouded leather so hard it looked like body armor. So let's take a deep breath and bid adieu to what's been a fantastic menswear season. Hopefully womenswear will follow suit.

menswear milan, AKA flapping my hands with glee at burberry

Sometimes, I get more excited by menswear than I do womenswear. Perhaps it's because Men's Fashion Week has the added bonus of adorable male models (a little superficiality never hurt anyone) with razor-sharp cheekbones and skinny little waists; more often it's because, since I dress relatively androgynously in my day-to-day life, there's always at least a jacket, a top, or some shoes for me to covet. If I run through a list of my favorite designers or fashion inspirations (see: 1920's, the early 80's), they're all into a little gender-bending, lots of leather, and killer draping--perfect for my ruler-shaped body.

I'm late on Milan, obviously. To be honest, I only looked at a few of the collections; Paris has taken my heart already, and there'll be many more posts dedicated to my perennial favorites. But there were definitely three of note, and here's the best of the best...


Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

BURBERRY PRORSUM
Studded leather. Need I say more?
I've already heard complaints from the holier-than-thou goth old guard...a luxury brand co-opting OUR style? Fuck you, man! It's a lifestyle! The only people who would pay $6000 for a PRE-STUDDED leather jacket are braindead fashionistas, okay?
Meh. I'm bothered by it too; it's kind of infuriating when you're swept up in a fleeting hipster craze when you've been dressing like this (and on a significantly tighter budget) since you were 15, and your prized leather smells like years-old stale beer. Tragic indeed. Fashion will always co-opt youth cult movements, and by the time you're done raging, it'll be something else. I'd rather bask in the loveliness of it all--the military and biker inspirations are spot-on, the tailoring, as expected from Christopher Bailey and ol' Booberry, is impeccable, and THIS BAG. THIS BAG, THIS BAG, THIS BAG. Quite frankly, I want to roll around with it and give it big hugs. I think it's worth the risk of injury.