TheCast Spring 2008 collection
9/4/07- St Marks Church
Gifting a [pre ban] engraved ivory piano key and offering aged brass trimmings attached to cream on cream satin and raw denim menswear.
This black summer wool armor clads bushy haired, haunted street poets and shamanistic Gods with death metal leanings. Both should be bar dwelling and whiskey swilling, Amex cards are optional.
Continue reading ‘THECAST S/S 08′
9/4/07 -
Rachel Comey Spring 2008 collection
St Patricks Youth Centre.
The unattainable librarian of your youth. Aloof, sexy, nonchalant.
Part sawtooth printed 1950’s [Kerouacs beatific editrix], clad in Alaia-esque black silk and mesh cutouts, part punchy prints and homely cool, wrapped in a double hand knit lavender cardigan.
Bespectacled and pale lipped, speaking an uncommon chic with a side chignon twist.
The beauty - or the curse - of fashion week in New York is that it takes one from uptown, to downtown, to midtown, across town - in other words, it’s all over the place, physically and metaphorically speaking.
Exhibit A: Gilles Montezin, a French designer whose friends include dandy-about-town Patrick McDonald, who cobbled together an audience that included the NY Times’ Bill Cunningham, the Village Voice’s Lynn Yaeger, Style.com’s Laird Borrelli-Persson, ex-supermodel Carmen Dell’Orefice and lingerie superhero “Eve Kitten” artist Nancy Bacich.
Life: an excuse for an anecdote. Thinking of anecdotes as accessories, carried in a book strap. The title tells you everything you need to know and conveys the essential point. Good title: leaves ...
Coaxed into covering a chocolate show involving fashion made of chocolate, I cast aside my inhibitions. “Unleash the chocoholicism!” is what this event invites. Throngs descend upon the West Side Highway, a sight I’m more accustomed to seeing in the daylight, for the Armory Show. West 50th Street is a desolate strip between 10th Avenue and now, all FedEx and horse stables and double parked cars. I stop over the Amtrak rails, my favorite spot in Midtown, it reminds me of Manhattan’s history as a hub of industry and trade, the grand connector between far off lands and the heartland, the mountains, the desert, the Pacific Coast…now Doritos wrappers and Burger King bags line the rails, probably needles and condoms and shit, too. Well that’s history, too. “What opera is like a railwayline? —The Rose of Castile. See the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee!”
I love how designers are redefining the word "minimalism." Merriam-Webster: Main Entry:min·i·mal·ism Pronunciation: \ˈmi-nə-mə-ˌli-zəm\ Function:noun Date:19291 : a style or technique (as in music, literature, or design) that is characterized by extreme spareness and simplicity 2 : minimal art Today we have Rogan Gregory doing what he terms "soulful minimalism." Imagine a Richard Serra sculpture (Gregory's favorite artist, fyi). Minimalism that's been left outside to rust, weather and age. As the parlance goes: Minimalism with a twist! Rogan points to the concrete floor inside his showroom and store. "When they first poured it, they made it perfect and smooth...and I looked at it and thought, no, that's not right." Rogan likes things to be a little fucked up, he said. Don't we all! How does this translate to the clothes?
Gold Pants Dance from Julie, who got it from Dyna. Ladies, I thank you.