Mainstream New Yorkers pay minimal attention to it. Just a lot of irksome foot traffic in TriBeCa and easily spotted trying-oh-so-hard style efforts. But what is Fashion Week? Besides the obvious. Yes, it’s a several day stretch of runway shows for buyers and the gen pub, occurring twice a year: in February and September. One full season ahead. But further down the rabbit hole, it’s a big PR event for individuals in the most vacuous industry in the world… in Paris, Milan and London—but clearly, New York is the one.
At the top, you can see mi amiga and former cast member of my play IN PASSING, Isis King, giving face at the Marco Marco show. This was the show to be at for downtown scenester types. I think we can’t all help cheering for Madeline Stuart, the model who happens to have Downs, featured so prominently in this year’s 800+ million dollar extravaganza. Here she is (above) at the Hendrik Vermeulen show with some bold color face.
With great reverence for New York—or in a horrifically disrespectful, reductive display, the hottest ticket on the town was Givenchy’s show with World Trade Center One as backdrop—on September 11th, complete with the annual memorial lights. I’m mixed about this one—Givenchy chose to show in New York obvi to bring attention to the new store on Madison Avenue. Kendall Jenner walked—that’s Kim’s less annoying little sister. “Big” sis was of course in attendance with Kanye Kardashian, both dressed in the label’s own wears (see Kim down below with black lace-y belly). People were annoyed that Julia Roberts, who rarely attends Fashion Week events, wore a simple T-shirt and over-the-shoulder blazer. Kind of like Diane Keaton showed up thinking it was the men’s show. Apparently, though, Julia got the memo—the show was mostly black and blah… lots of tuxedo parts.
What have the trends been for Spring/Summer 2016? Pretty awful, overall. But to be more specific: body and face bejeweling, lip gloss everywhere besides the lips, for a sweaty glowing skin-look, twisty ponytails a la Sade, checkerboard nails (really?), and non-traditional models: older, trans, larger and differently-abled.
I walked by Target’s party (Vogue-Target, which is hard to even type), on my way to shoot a live commercial event—the usual non-disclosure keeps me from telling you more (I assure you, it had nothing to do with a car being flown across the Hudson via helicopter to be dangled before a tenth floor penthouse where a party was going on), and I saw a bit of the Tar-zhay shenanigans. The fact that Target has a twenty page spread in this month’s Vogue just may be a sign of the apocalypse, or some ultimate selling out-at-large.
Best and Worse Dressed? Who cares. Definitely not me or Julia (remind me to tell you about the time we sang Christmas Carols in Mandarin on the set of MONA LISA SMILE) for Best. Worst is quite a competitive category. Here are some contenders for your amusement… PS—Not all are from this week, but ALL are hideous.