When I passed by this fly poster on Brick Lane I had already decided that something was indeed v-v-v wrong about the mood of fashion week this time ’round. I won’t rain on the whole parade just yet as it’s still only day 2 but let me just mention that Paris Hilton is the ‘official’ highlight so far, having flown in for Julien Macdonald’s show. And it obviously wasn’t tongue-in-cheek. Need I say more? Preen was meant to be gorgeous though I was in a sales appointment so unfortunately missed it. Fingers crossed that there are a few more rude, raw and raucous moments like MAN and Gareth Pugh yet to come. And hopefully something, anything, v-v-v right among the wrong…
Carrie Mundane is the little devil behind Cassette Playa. Her triple tempo techno grime video collage was like a reverse temper tantrum gone brilliantly haywire. To get the crowd rocking, her on-screen double drop boys fell out of the atari projection right into real life to do some hardcore moves as a teaser to the MAN catwalk.
Miss Mundane looking coy.
Even Manami caught the dayglow bug… it was everywhere in newcomer Deryck Walker’s show, from the rave soundtrack to fluorescent harnesses to the delicate androgy-cyborg casting (photos in short supply due to this boy’s shakey hand – do however hijack other cyber resources to view his and Ann-Sofie Back’s "OPP" boy-harem in high-waters, cardies and fishnets)
A glimpse of Gareth Pugh’s vision of what you might liken to a nocturnal anti-prom… teetering on that high-wire that we love somewhere between the gruesome and the grand.
Hey, RObb, you are the best loved your post after reading the IHT this morning about the not so stellar shows in London, the two of you seem to be in agreement. Sarah_ is trying to get in touch with you, click on her name if you want to send her a text. xxxfrom Madrid
