Like many fellow fashion peeps, my mag's budget matches my waist size, so even though find myself sitting out the men's spring/summer 2010 shows, but that's no reason to throw a pity party. Ok, maybe it is. Few things match the thrill of that Lights up! Look One! moment that begins each blaring fashion show. Far from the front lines of the men's spring/summer 2010 shows, I've decided to quit the pity party, crack open some Clicquot and dish on the faves, raves and follies that jumped at me--all from my dusty computer screen.
Gone was the percussion-heavy music that gives audible footing to the army of Adonises that animate these shows, and in was an office-curated motley mix of The Decemberists, U2, Genesis (oddly enough), and even some Michael Jackson, thrown in for good measure. Hardly runway-appropriate, but the buzz that carried me through my click-fest made it feel like old times. And really, with New York Fashion Week barely around the corner, I'll be back in my element in no time. So without further ado, I commence my take on all favorite fashions European from 3,000 embittered miles away.
Was like a trip to boys’ camp, homoerotic experimentation and all. Cropped pants for the boys tucked into mukluks, bright, logo-fied jackets, shirts and Ts, and of course, the occasional hot swim number that never fails to tighten our already-skinny jeans. It’s like dressing your super hot straight boyfriend up gay, and like most of what DSquared2 does, that’s a fantasy we’d never mind living out. Verdict: DSquared2 is what would happen if the Abercrombie catalog were left up to the Italians, except this time the Canadians took a turn.
Besides the fabulously terrifying onscreen presence Joan Collins gave to Alexis Carrington, my favorite part about Dynasty was the wardrobe. I was the only four year-old who wanted a brocade dinner jacket and listened to Manilow, as I windexed my patent leather Sunday shoes. Domenico and Stefano are about 18 years too late for me with this collection, but thankfully, my penchant for all things printed never really faded, so when the men’s show opened to the Vegas Strip, it was Dynasty all over again, but with a touch of Sharon Stone’s Casino. Enough name dropping—my jaw dropped at 74 impeccably-tailred looks of shine and shimmer, razzle and dazzle, with just the right amount of torn denim thrown in to remind us the boys have still got it. Verdict: The time when guys could rely on a just a tie to dote instant fashion cred is quickly drawing to a close—it’s time to get dressed up again.
Safari’s been done, and done again. And with each incarnation, I’m always left wondering, “Oh, are they offering elephant safaris in Brooklyn now?” and “I have no two-way radios or emergency rations to put in all these damn pockets!” This time, however, Versace is the expedition. Exotic prints and textures, embossed croc vests, tanks and swimsuits that would make a hippo blush, all tamed by the occasional muted floral and loose fitting trousers, topped with braided leather in a variety of uses. An outpost’s wardrobe of jackets—many with a surprising toggle closure—kept the collection appropriate for any occasion, and when worn over the longer tunic, scratched the itch that keeps Versace at the beginning of our fashion alphabet. Verdict: Exotic can waver between stretchy prints from the Deb and elegant pieces inspired by orchidaceous landscapes and their endangered species. I’d readily use Versace as a synonym for the latter.
I honestly can’t think of a better fashion marriage than Italo Zucchelli and his womens counterpart, Francisco Costa. Modern is no new concept (no pun intended), and when minimalism is at the core, it can get old—fast. These two wizards with the needle and thread make modern a more attainable state of mind, with a matching wardrobe rather than a foiled assemblage of audaciously unwearable…stuff. That being said, sheer is clearly the new modern for Zucchelli’s spring 2010, and it played extremely well in a variety of layers. Also present were the splashes of bright we’ve come to look forward to, probably only appropriate for magazine covers, but nonetheless deserving of a trophic mention. Verdict: Though the patterns, twists, turns, pleats prints and decoration weren’t there, the concept was and we’d never dare use the word “basic” to describe it.
I know these reviews are only supposed to reflect my favorites, but considering I still harbor love for my favorite British export, I felt it worth a mention. So am I allowed to be mad at Burberry? Ever since the neon neoprene revolution that marched down the men’s spring 2008 Prorsum runway, my expectations for the name I once branded as “classic” were redefined. But a mere two years later, spring has softened up and reverted back to basics. A naturally pastel palette outfitted a variety of knits and cardigans and suits were their usual chic selves. The only splashes of color were provided by a legion of puffy parkas that looked more like they belonged in the L.L. Bean catalog than the newly-knighted Sir Bailey’s runway. Verdict: I would hardly call this collection a failure of any sort, but where Burberry usually gives me a Pilsbury poke, I felt little more than a cough.
If the shrieks that bounced off the walls of the office when I got to the Gucci show were any indication of my approval, then orgasms are the new applause because I could not shut up. I’m not going to launch into a tirade about the elusive gender of fashion, but I will say certain aspects can cross a fine line and end up not working, and nobody knows this better than Frida Giannini, who can put the manliest of macho in any print and belt a moss hued velvet suit with a scarf, while still keeping the respect of the rugby team. The case-in-point for spring 2010 was the soft white suits juxtaposed with her signature touch of rock and roll, fashioned by Stones-esque embroidered jackets and a mélange of metallic flourish thrown in at the end. Verdict: While I wouldn’t dare call Gucci “something for everyone,” it’s nice to see such strong variety for those who care what they look like.
Kris Van Assche definitely kept in line with the androgyny factor so special to Dior Homme for his spring 2010 collection, but strayed from the typified manorexically-cut clothes that embodied it in the past. Van Assche’s version wavered from sleeveless to weightless to buttonless, with each stripped iteration gaining more acclaim. Faux broken glass and sewn-on plastic were left out to make room for simplicity, where the only overt detail was the folds and overhangs of draping fabric. I’m also inclined to think he employed those fun X-ray vision glasses we had as kids while sketching ideas, as he clearly understands the salacious quality of a little see-through. Jackets, vests and shirts all showed a little skin, but the collection as a whole was as solid as can be. Verdict: Though this collection will pick its wearers, rather than the other way around, we can only hope we’re one of the lucky elect. Lanvin
After Alber Elbaz blew up women’s Lanvin, I braced myself for the sad reality that he’d pass the arbitrary men’s line to someone else, depriving Lanvin’s Y-chromosomed followers of the same modern elegance steeped in tradition. Fortunately, Elbaz isn’t afraid of working a double shift, and his resulting men’s 2010 spring line is the perfect example that hard work does pay off. Uber-clever styling spotlit this already innovative collection, giving rise to rich suiting (many sans sleeves), a fun, frisky use of material (shorts made from tie fabric), and showcasing the bolder aspects of haberdashery (jewel-toned high-waisted pants, tartan plaid jumpsuits, and a blazer-paired-with-shorts look that actually worked). Highlighting the bolder statements of typical gentleman’s garb, the lineup gave us some modern elements toward the end, ever advancing Lanvin in the fashionable evolution. Verdict: Block an entire week and the handicapped fitting room the second this collection hits Barneys.
D&G is clearly Domenico and Stefano’s playground, where they can take any concept and, instead of allowing it to merely inspire a collection, they go full-force literal. Last spring’s nautical yacht party worked wonders while successfully avoiding tacky, so as I clicked through men’s spring 2010 and felt a tinge of rodeo creep up on me, I reached for something leather to get me in the mood. Like aforementioned safari, rodeo has seen numerous incarnations on the runway, but leave it to Mr. D and Mr. G to translate hog-tying to a three-piece suit, ombre-dyed leather jacket, and dripping rich velvet evening jacket. The requisite chambray, plaids and cowboy denim were fully in attendance, but D&G’s arresting touch added a certain touch of class that left us Ikea desk-bound audience members wishing we were chaps-clad and hee-hawing with the rest of the international glitterati. Verdict: Though outwardly construed as playing it safe with an abundance of denim, plaid, chambray and chino, they’d line the sexiest racks at the rodeo.
I’ve always thought of Hermes as “clothes that look great on the man that can afford them,” so luxurious, yes, but fashionable, not so much. Options are abundant, but the Birkin can’t be the only reason the name’s been around for close to 200 years. Perhaps that’s what the stone-faced front rowers were thinking as the show went on, for while I enjoyed image after flashing image that clicked by, it was their stoic expressions that arrested my focus. Ok, keywords—loved the wide belts, rich color palette, slightly cropped pants, and I have to say, nobody does a leather shirt quite like Hermes. Verdict: It’s hard to argue with a classic that’s been around longer than my last name, so for the sake of Southampton, good show!
More to come, kids, as the bitter editor spends the afternoon continuing to admire from afar.
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