Me & Cathy Horyn Are BFFs, Me & Ricardo Tisci Are Not

Cathy Horyn is my favorite fashion journalist. If you aren't reading her blog in the NY Times, you're missing out. Last week, reviewing the men's shows in Paris, she called Ricardo Tisci's collection for Givenchy "just plain tedious," and my heart warmed with fellow-feeling. Horyn's post caused a tornado of comment on her already comment-heavy blog (While I really love Horyn's writing, I'm less enamored of the commentary that her regular readers provide. There are a lot of folks who seem to know a lot about fashion and they want you to know it, too. It is not uncommon for her readers to post comments that are a good chunk longer than the posts they're ommenting on. Frankly, that gets "just plain tedious," too.) and she followed up with a post wherein she spoke at greater length about "the insecurity of a designer who doesn’t have a meaningful, real vision." Bells chimed in my chilly little fashionista heart when I read that, because for several seasons now I've been looking at Tisci's work for Givenchy and thinking, "I don't get it. There's no there there."

Here are some of the looks from the collection:

Okay, nothing wrong with this, basic black suit, skinny trouser silhouette which is fairly common these days. It's hard to tell from this photo with the model's hands in his pockets just what exactly is going on with the tailoring of the jacket, but it looks inoffensive enough.

On the other hand...

Um, WHAT???

Ooooooh, for pete's sake, why not just put a frame around your johnson and be done with it? Honestly...

Much has been made of the fact that Tisci was supposed to be designing costumes for the late Michael Jackson's scheduled tour this year, and that this collaboration inspired many of the flashier pieces in the collection.

But I cannot for the life of me feature the King of Pop in this rig. Leather shorts and leggings. What. Ever.

I mean, really -- what am I supposed to do with this??

This I just showed you because... well, you know the because. Gracious.

Now. I know a lot of silliness shows up on the runway during all seasons, men & women, ready-to-wear and couture -- everywhere. And at first glance, you might look at John Galliano's collection and think, this is every bit as ridiculous as Tisci's stuff.

But it's not. It might be styled in an extreme way, but the clothes are actually really, really beautiful.

This collection was inspired by Napoleon, of all people. The runway show was divided into three themes: his early years in Corsica, his campaign into north Africa, and his time as the ruler of France.

Does this seem silly to you? I suppose in a way it is. But the up side of this is that it gives a designer a skeleton to hang his ideas on, and a way to indulge in higher-concept design than he could if simply presenting a bunch of clothes to wear. And as far as I'm concerned, the genius of Galliano is how far he can push the fantastical boundaries of an idea and still have beautiful, wearable clothes buried in it. The styling of the three outfits above is decidedly extreme, but it's easy to see how it is in service of the ideas of the collection, and it doesn't rob the clothes of their impact. The leather safari jacket in the first photo is a thing of real beauty, as is that gorgeous embroidered shirt in the second.

The second section of the show was my favorite.

I just love this. I'm always a fan of a monochromatic palette done in lots of different textures, and I think these desert-inspired clothes are simply gorgeous.

That jacket is fantastic. FANTASTIC.

No, of course no one is going to walk down the streets of Manhattan swathed in mosquito netting, but it makes for a lovely effect on the runway.

Aside from the Lawrence of Arabia headgear (and probably the sandals avec chaussures), if a man showed up to take me out to dinner wearing this, I wouldn't bat an eye. Okay, I would bat, but in the good way. He would be ill-advised to leave that embroidered vest unattended, though. I would gank that in a heartbeat.

The other thing I love about John Galliano? Sense of humor.

C'mon! That's FUNNY. Nothing Tisci showed in his collection had even the tiniest bit of humor about it. Okay, sure, it was funny, but not in the way you want.

Pat McGrath did the makeup for Galliano's show and as usual it was great, but it was in this last section that she really got to go to town and show what a genius she is.

Voila! Napoleon himself! If you are a hair stylist or makeup artist, it must be a dream come true to work with Galliano.

Normally I don't go for the sort of goth thing we're edging into here

(unless it's a certain Billowy Coat King of Pain TV character whom I still miss), but I think this is beautiful. I doubt there are very many men who will be willing to take the time to wrap themselves so artfully about the waist with a shirt like that, but I really think they should. (Yes, it's a shirt. Look closely. Talk about working your wardrobe resources!)

I also don't think any of the men in my life would be willing to go with this look, with the embroidered lapels and the layers of what looks like tulle, but again -- just gorgeous. As we know, any designer gets extra points from me for things that reward movement, and even this still photo makes me want to put on this coat and run across the moors or some such.

So.

Gallliano's shows and styling -- nutty, wacky, OTT. But that's okay with me. Galliano views every runway collection, for any of the labels he designs, as a laboratory for cooking up new ideas. You can see it quite clearly in his Dior Couture collections, and we expect to see the wildest flights of fantasy in couture, but he brings that to all of his ready to wear, too. He pushes everything to its most extreme and makes an enormous spectacle, but you can always see the bones of what he's doing inside it. Strip away the makeup and the mosquito netting and the laurel crowns on the models' heads and what you can see the beautiful clothes that are going to show up in the stores and the overall feeling of the season that he's created. Nothing Tisci showed is anything but a weak attempt at trendiness and shock value, and to my eye every single one of the exits from his show looked more ridiculous than any of Galliano's theatrical Corsairs with their inch-thick eyeliner. (And don't even get me started on how much it bothers me that Tisci seems to have no relationship What. So. Ever. To the history of the house of Givenchy; a designer, you'll recall, who was a protegé of Balenciaga and a favorite of Audrey Hepburn. Fancy Audrey wearing this. I don't think so.)


A note: Sorry I was AWOL all last week. It got a little hectic around here!


Images: Style.com

The Golden Age

At the Victoria and Albert Museum in London there is currently a wonderful exhibit called The Golden Age of Couture. If you are going to be anywhere NEAR London before January 8, don't miss it. It's fantastic. Did you ever play that game where you pick which historical era you would like to have lived in? Well, for me, it would be post-World War II, the late 1940's through the 1950's. Oh, sure, I know it wasn't the most enlightened time socially speaking, and that our "Happy Days" perception of it in this country is rose-tinted and inaccurate. And perhaps there are more compelling periods to live in, intellectually or sociologically. But the truth of the matter is that I'm really not interested in living without either soap or mascara (not to mention a cocktail here & there), so I'm sorry, Versailles during Louis XIV is right out. But in 1947, there was soap, martinis, lipstick & eyeliner, good jazz, automobiles, and women got to look like this:

This is the Bar Suit from Christian Dior's 1947 New Look Collection. It's my ideal; my favorite silhouette of all time -- romantic and feminine and pretty darned swoony. Of course, I realize that the above is advertising photography and looking at it and saying that "women in 1947 looked like this" is roughly akin to saying "women of 2007 look like this" while perusing photos of Catherine Zeta-Jones at a red carpet event, but let's leave my fantasy alone, shall we? Had I been alive in 1947, I would ALWAYS have looked like this. End of discussion.

Hard as it is to believe, the New Look was rather shocking and revolutionary for its time. Remember, during WWII there was fabric rationing and all kinds of shortages -- this skirt, with its yards and yards and yards of fabric, was positively decadent. And many people now look on it as a step backwards for women -- during the War women had been brought into positions that were abandoned by men off fighting, working in factories and offices and making real strides forward in independence and power. After all the soldiers came home, the New Look signified women's return to a submissive role -- the soft shoulders, the wasp waist, the enormous, movement-inhibiting skirt. Still, it's pretty hard to argue with this

as a fabulous way to look.

The V&A exhibit focuses specifically on the world of post-War couture, so what they have on display is work from some of the most important designers of the 40's and 50's and it's truly wonderful to look at. The exhibit itself is... well, it's not the best-designed museum exhibit I've ever atttended, although it is chock-full of jaw-droppingly beautiful things. It's a crowded and not extremely well-organized -- don't take a large backpack or a child in a stroller, because there isn't a lot of space. There isn't a strictly organized traffic flow for any of it; so while I appreciate not being herded around like livestock, what I wound up feeling like was a rat in a maze, except not all the rats were going in the same direction so periodically there would be big clumps of rats that would reach a sort of impasse, or there would be one rat who wanted to spend longer in front of one dress or go back and compare it to another dress and that rat was prevented from doing so by the pack or just inconvenienced all the other rats by swimming upstream... okay, you get the picture. Enough with the rodent metaphor, and please don't think it in any way indicates that I don't think the exhibit is worthwhile, because it is not possible to feel rat-like while gazing on something like this:


This is the back of a gown by my beloved Cristobal Balenciaga, mid-50's. Breathtaking.

Balmain, 1957

Antonio Castillo for Lanvin-Castillo, 1957. The embroidery on this bodice is done by the firm of Lesage, still in existence today.

This tartan gown is by Jaques Fath from 1949. It was made for a member of British royalty, as I recall, for a state occasion. (Must remember to take notes!!)


Beaded and embroided pink satin shoes by Roger Vivier for Dior, late 50's. Swoon.



Gorgeous couture tailoring by Michael Donéllan in 1954. There is a large assortment of suiting by Donéllan, Balenciaga, Creed, Chanel, and others in the exhibit. A good suit is just as difficult (maybe more so) to make than a stunning evening gown, and the Fashionista in me was so frustrated that I couldn't climb up on the dais, take these things off the mannequins, and turn them inside-out to examine the cutting and seaming.

Balmain organza extravaganza, about 1950. Wheeeeee!!!

Silk brocade from Givenchy, mid-50's. This dress makes obvious why so many of Balenciaga's clients turned to Givenchy after Balenciaga closed his atelier.



Dior, 1957. I don't care who you are -- you put on this dress and you are instantly the most gorgeous thing in the room.

Worth, late 50's

Spectacularly beaded & embroidered velvet from Dior, 1956. This dress is cocktail length. You know, so it's more practical...

More Dior, black silk velvet and faille, 1949-50.

This is my favorite. Red silk chiffon from Jean Dessés, 1953. I'm pretty sure this dress dances all by itself. This is the dress of my dreams -- in this dress I would be perfectly perfect. I would drink nothing but champagne. I would have no split ends. My feet would never hurt. I would be as witty as a Phillip Barry play. I would dance divinely, my dear. Men in tuxedos would pursue me, planning to buy me jewels. Other women might hate me. I would not care.

Sigh.

The exhibit also has a really wonderful section of photography, with work by people like Richard Avedon and Irving Penn, among others, including this one:

Dovima with the Elephants, Richard Avedon, 1955 (The gown is Dior.)

The models in the photos from this period are so elegant, so beautiful, so witty, desirable, glamorous, so soignée... so everything we idealize in feminine beauty. They are positively inspirational. (And made me want even more to never, ever again see some grubby, hollow-eyed teenaged girl in need of a bath and about a dozen good meals modeling clothes.) I saw this exhibit with my wonderful friend Caroline, who is probably the best amateur photographer I know (and could give a lot of professionals a good run for their money) and she took this photo of me as an homage to them:


I've got nothing on Dovima or Lisa Fonssagrives-Penn, but I do what I can.

(You can see more of Caro's beautiful photos here. Check 'em out, you won't be sorry.)

I was not allowed to take photographs at the exhibit, but the nice people in the gift shop foolishly sold me a book of postcards, not guessing that I had a scanner and nefarious motives. But do take a gander at the truly great website that the V & A has put together for this exhibit. It has tons of information, a really interesting interactive timeline, and great photos. Look it over and plan your wardrobe for when we finally achieve time travel...

Photos: Victoria and Albert Museum, Caroline Charles

Things I Didn't Know I Needed

Okay, I've been going through the Couture collections and it's been brought to my attention (ahem) that there are a few items out there that Style Spy is desperately in need of for her wardrobe this fall. All I can say is, thank god for fashion journalism, because otherwise I would never have known I needed these things. (A narrow escape, that!)

#1: GINORMOUS beaded necklaces:

(Both from Christian Lacroix)

Especially the second picture -- the glass or pearly ones. I really love a big, statement-y piece of jewelry, as I think I've mentioned before. Typically, I only do one at a time, which is a more real world-friendly way of wearing them, I think. But the magic of a good piece of important jewelry is that it snazzes up the most basic outfit & turns it into something wonderful. I'm imagining that oversized pearl necklace with a black cashmere turtleneck and a black leather skirt, along with black suede boots and some sort of great long jacket -- my hot pink velvet one, maybe. I can't resist (most of the time) a bit of well-chosen whimsy in an accessory or garment, and there's something a little Through the Looking Glass about the enormous scale of these necklaces that I'm completely charmed by.

(Important note: If you're petite, do not try this at home. I'm 5'6". If you're much shorter than that, these things are going to overwhelm you. Go with something that has the same idea but on a smaller scale.)

#2 Fabulous over-the-knee boots (all of these are from Chanel):



Ohhhhhh, I just love the way these look.


How's that for a way to sex up a tweed suit?

If you look closely, you can see that these aren't boots, they're actually spats over shoes.



Look! Crazy-gorgeous jeweled fabric ones!!! Oh, I could faint!

KL's been working this over-the-knee boot thing for a few collections now, and I've yet to get tired of it. It does make for a wonderfully long lean legline. Which, of course, is the source of the main problem about this look, at least for me. I have very-well-developed calves and have trouble as it is finding boots that zip over them. Factor my even more generous lower thighs into the equation and I may be talking about a complete pipe dream. But dream I will, because I love this look.

Speaking of gorgeous jeweled things, apparently I need some glittery, gem-encrusted sunglasses:

(Chanel)

These are so very, very not me and yet I'm completely in love with them.

#4: A skirt made of feathers:

(Valentino)

(Givenchy -- I think this is actually made of something like Mongolian lamb, but it reads like feathers)

I know this is going to give a lot of people pause, but I just love the way it looks.

(More Valentino -- how could anyone not love this???)

I'm also a big fan of skirts made of things like tulle & whatnot -- I really love the tutu effect. And the feathers (technically marabou -- the soft, fluffy bits that feather boas are made from) flutter so delicately -- I adore clothes that have movement in them. I already have a skirt that's made of shredded tulle and paillettes that has a similar effect to this one, although not nearly as good:

(Prada)

I've had a sneaking suspicion that this was something I was going to fall in love with since I saw that, and it was confirmed when I saw Miuccia Prada at the Costume Institute event:


I know a lot of people hated this, but I loved it. I don't think this is actually feathers, I think it's plastic strips, but you get the idea. Why do I love it? Because it's fun, because it's whimsical, because it's almost fairy-princessy.

(Givenchy -- This one, however, is full-on Swan Lake and may be a bit much.)

If you can't do the full feather, how about just a little:

(Valentino)

I defy any woman to put on that dress and not feel like the Prettiest. Girl. In the World. Oh, that honestly makes me a little week in the knees.

One more thing I need and then I'll stop (for today) -- these booties:

(Christian Lacroix)

I don't really have to explain why, do I? I just... neeeeeeeed them. Because they're wonderful.

Stay tuned -- more fabulosity coming soon! Did you see anything at the couture shows you can't live without? Tell me all about it!

Photos: Elle.com, Style.com