There is some shady shit going on around here, let me tell you. My damn clothes have been disappearing left and right and it’s not just a sock going into that Twilight Zone of Socks once or twice a year. All of the no-show socks that I bought to wear with my Valas loafers went in a single load of laundry a couple of weeks ago. I had to buy more because I hate wearing shoes without socks and I’m not going to put them on with tube socks like some old golfer or German tourist, but the place was out of the light-colored ones so I had to buy them in black. And they’re not cheap, you know, even if they are a tiny fraction of real sock size. Then my light gray Abercrombie boxer briefs failed to return from this black hole of laundry last week, even though all the white ones and dark gray ones made it back, and now I’m missing the workout tank that I wore the day before yesterday. This new routine of Scott taking our laundry out to the Desert every week to save our cleaning lady Esperanza the trouble may not be cutting it. Shit, I feel like that woman who has a problem with the heat wave:
Now that I have all that off my chest, let’s get back to fashion week news. If you’re like me, you probably look to London Fashion Week more as an art show than somewhere you’ll find things you might actually end up wearing. There are some wildly creative designers showing there, many of whom I’ve never heard of and wouldn’t know where to find their stuff if I had. This year, they’ve managed to spread LFW out over six days — it was shorter last year — but the significant collections were somehow all packed into Sunday and Monday.
First off, creative director Emma Hill’s last outing with Mulberry was pretty and ladylike with some 60s-style A-line dresses, the best featuring a big floral print on white. The horizontal banded tops and skirts with sheer inserts are starting to look familiar but they were nice in pastels here.
Temperley London also opened with some horizontal banded looks but in silk and much richer pinks, peaches and merlots. You’d expect lovely party dresses from this line but the mixing of leopard and floral designs was very fresh and a little wild for them. Of course, we know that Mary Katrantzou is going to be all about expert prints and this time the focus was blown up pictures of shoes. There were also some heavily beaded floral mini dresses in vibrant colors that worked beautifully when there wasn’t an enormous ruffle over the bust.
On Monday, Roksanda Ilincic looked to Brazilian mid-century art and came up with some Cubist-like graphic prints and beautiful blasts of yellow. The color blocking was interestingly done and the shapes were generous and reminiscent of Dior’s New Look, which worked for the whole mid-century vibe. Burberry Prorsum was a concoction of pastel lace in many shades for a twist on English Country that was super sheer over huge granny panties. The soft, big pastel coats looked good enough to eat but that underwear under the absolutely transparent skirts and dresses was rather silly, even if we know they won’t be worn like that.
Where other designers are leaning toward prettiness, Erdem showed an uncharacteristically edgy collection almost entirely in black and white and kind of punk. I don’t think I’m a fan but it was an interesting departure from his previously unwavering femininity. Giles Deacon started his show off dark with early 90s photos printed on silk that was a bit wacky but arresting. These pieces were followed by several looks covered in a laughing lips motif and, finally, several dresses and gowns made of black bats closed the show. It was a lot.
Tom Ford started with quilted caramel-colored leather but black spider web lace and meticulous stained glass effect covered more of the looks. My favorites here were a few Studio 54 glamour ensembles in black satin or white fur but I was again underwhelmed.
As I write this, the shows in Milan have already begun so let’s hope it all gets better. And that my fucking underwear shows up!