Margiela for H&M: Foiled Again!

Gentle reader,

Okay, so I know we already talked about America’s Next Top Model, or as I like to call it, “This is not America’s. Top. Best. FRIEEEEND!”  I happened to catch the finale episode the other day, though, because my brain was so fried from running around with armloads of clothes for ten hours that I didn’t think to change the channel.  At first I thought I was watching one of those low budget psychic shows on cable because of the cheap eerie visual effects, but it turns out that they were trying to tie in their big runway show at a famously haunted mansion in Jamaica.  In keeping with this ghostly theme, Smashbox artists made up the models to look like they’d all been hit in the face with a bag of flour.  It’s probably a coincidence that PR maven Kelly Cutrone and stylist Johnny Wujek both seemed to have personalities on par with a bag of flour, but it might just be genius casting.  Or maybe bags of flour are trending right now and I just didn’t know it.

The best part was when Cutrone picked a bitch fight with a photographer in the middle of a shoot and then stormed off acting like she’d never been so insulted.  The model ended up a hot, tear-streaked mess but the photographer was awesome, calmly clicking pictures through the entire fracas.  I don’t even know who ended up winning the season because I was distracted by the realization that I had watched an entire hour-long episode of a competition judged by a queeny Filipino fashion blogger wearing a veil over his knitted ski cap.  I really need to get my shit together.

America's Next Top Model

America’s Next Top Model: Not styled by Margiela.

Anyway, Maison Martin Margiela’s capsule collection for H&M looks pretty cool.  I was just chatting with a couple of clients the other day about the lack of easy, deconstructed pieces that we could really use in L.A. and the Margiela thing seemed like it might do the trick.  I was reminded of my first visit to the Lanvin boutique last spring when I was faced with all these fabulously easy, drapey jersey frocks and tunics that were perfect for my Malibu ladies who don’t give a shit what the price is, they just want to look great and be comfortable.

Lady Gaga Fame

Goth Girls and Vampire Brides: Fall 2012’s Dark Glamour

Gentle reader,

Can you believe there was a time when I raced home every Wednesday night to catch America’s Next Top Model?  Okay, try really hard.  Do you believe it now?  You have to admit that Tyra’s butt was too big to fit in a photo shoot but it was fun to see her switch from Classy Tyra to Ghetto Tyra every once in a while.  After a few seasons, though, the backstage antics became predictable when the archetypes of Rebel, Princess, Whiner, and Token Lesbian were repeated season after season.  I also began to realize that these girls are about as likely to have professional modeling careers as my five-foot tall, middle-aged cleaning lady Esperanza, who has an amazing way with bleach but perhaps not so much affinity for the lens.  ANTM and I eventually parted ways.

Imagine my surprise when I got home Friday night after a long day, mixed my signature So-Skinny-You-Should-See-A-Doctor Margarita (tequila, half an Equal, a splash of lemon juice topped off with lime-flavored sparkling water over ice, you’re welcome) and flipped on the TV to see my old Wednesday friend Tyra Banks on the screen.  Not only has she moved to Friday night, but she’s also fired all her old judges and decided to do a College Edition so the judges are new but the bitch who wins will still be too old to get started as a professional model.  And you have to take “College Edition” with a grain of salt because, although one of them is a Harvard student, beauty school and online “college” students certainly outnumber Ivy Leaguers.  It still sounded more upscale, though, until the first challenge turned out to be an impromptu bikini runway show and photo shoot at a daytime frat party.  Ick.