Fashion week - Day three
Sunday - And the craziness goes on.
Gustavo Arango Atelier
At 11am there was a gentle party buzz backstage, nice music, the girls relaxed and chatty and the presence of Omaryha *swoon. Yes, we quizzed her about Xmen and yes, she clapped her hands! Thankfully the tent didn’t rip open and outfits and dressers remained in one piece.
Dresses were silky sexy numbers and shiny scarily high heels, (the girls’ thoughts nervously turned to making an arse of themselves and the possibility of broken hips as they learnt that the runway was paper and the bottoms of the shoes had been masking taped.)
All the best, as generally with most things in life, is in the details, but I’m not sure how much people can see and appreciate even from the front rows of the handiwork gone into the pieces. Chiffon, felted and then embroidered and then holed out overlaid delicate spun lace vests.
Dresses had been texturised then layered to form skirts that fell into mermaid’s tails at the back. Darts were sewn on the outside to give an edginess to the feminine forms.
The thrill of getting to hold the creations in my hands and inspect them thoroughly never ebbs.
Neem Khan Atelier
Bold black and white cuts, (a nod to Chanel ) and big floppy felt hats that the girls couldn’t see from under, in aubergine and Bordeaux colours took over the show.
Looking at the show on the website now the photos shown really don’t illustrate the best of the collection, which started out a little samey and patchy in it’s mix of themes, but when the last looks were thrown, dragged, entreated and zipped onto the girls, the best, it was clear had been saved for last: high collared, open backed, tight bodiced gowns all in finely pleated shantung silks of silvery greys and beetle back greens with edges left raw and puffed sleeves that wound round the arms with silk ropes. The silvery grey pleated dress layered out form the waist into fuller skirts, very Victoriana and the hue and high buttoned collar had me thinking of Anna Karenina.
I had the feeling that my vertebrae had shrunk from standing all day for four days and I had tragically gone from 5ft 9” to hobbit as I went on tip toe to fix a necklace, till the whispered confirmation went round that a gaggle of only girls of 6ft and over had been chosen to wear the 3” + Manolos. Grrrrr
Venexiana Metropolitan Pavilion
Mood: starting to get tired and tetchy
"Treat the items like museum samples!" we were cautioned, in fact we were positively told not to touch the pieces until we were given the say so, then to touch them as little as possible and on no condition let them touch the ground or be creased. Well, do you want the girl to wear the bloody dress or not? Was the general murmur.
The garments arrived packed, stuffed and pinned in paper. Really like museum pieces, which I thought was a nice effect, there is something special about a creation fresh from the tailors and being the first to handle the eagerly awaited new season’s collection, but what due palle to unpack and prepare. Diagrams had to be drawn of how to repack them and I’m not kidding, whilst the neurotic, poor man’s Vivienne Westwood look-alike of a designer went round handling the garments freely and not at all gently, letting the trains drag for a filming camera crew of a programme that was hosted by a Buffalo Bill doppelganger sporting a pair of lederhosen, ladies boots, a cute micro top hat and carrying in his arms a large garden gnome as accessory, mascot, new boyfriend? I don’t second-guess any of these types and as much as I love the energy and the eccentricity of this realm, some people just don’t live in the real world.
If only the collection was as interesting as its creators - Laser cut, white doily baby doll dresses finished with oversized pockets, ballet socks and great, patent platform Mary Janes opened the show, followed by a Latin feel with chiffon polka dot mini skirts and dresses under exaggerated bell sleeved, off the shoulder blouses. The finale saw the girls as the peacocks that they are in backless, strappy gowns with long swishy trains in green and yellow organza. And they wanted none of this to touch the floor? Yeah, right.
A lovely collection hosted in a good airy space of the Metropolitan pavilion, but by the end of it we were all very cheesed off and tired by the nitpicking and finicky ways of the stylists. If you want people to acquiesce to a bollock full of fuss and censure pay them more, because the majority of the team agreed not to work for her next season, the clothes aren’t worth it.
Things swiped:
Flesh coloured g-strings
Enough toupee tape to make sure I don’t have a nipple tassel misdemeanour for many months to come
Gustavo Arango Atelier
At 11am there was a gentle party buzz backstage, nice music, the girls relaxed and chatty and the presence of Omaryha *swoon. Yes, we quizzed her about Xmen and yes, she clapped her hands! Thankfully the tent didn’t rip open and outfits and dressers remained in one piece.
Dresses were silky sexy numbers and shiny scarily high heels, (the girls’ thoughts nervously turned to making an arse of themselves and the possibility of broken hips as they learnt that the runway was paper and the bottoms of the shoes had been masking taped.)
All the best, as generally with most things in life, is in the details, but I’m not sure how much people can see and appreciate even from the front rows of the handiwork gone into the pieces. Chiffon, felted and then embroidered and then holed out overlaid delicate spun lace vests.
Dresses had been texturised then layered to form skirts that fell into mermaid’s tails at the back. Darts were sewn on the outside to give an edginess to the feminine forms.
The thrill of getting to hold the creations in my hands and inspect them thoroughly never ebbs.
Neem Khan Atelier
Bold black and white cuts, (a nod to Chanel ) and big floppy felt hats that the girls couldn’t see from under, in aubergine and Bordeaux colours took over the show.
Looking at the show on the website now the photos shown really don’t illustrate the best of the collection, which started out a little samey and patchy in it’s mix of themes, but when the last looks were thrown, dragged, entreated and zipped onto the girls, the best, it was clear had been saved for last: high collared, open backed, tight bodiced gowns all in finely pleated shantung silks of silvery greys and beetle back greens with edges left raw and puffed sleeves that wound round the arms with silk ropes. The silvery grey pleated dress layered out form the waist into fuller skirts, very Victoriana and the hue and high buttoned collar had me thinking of Anna Karenina.
I had the feeling that my vertebrae had shrunk from standing all day for four days and I had tragically gone from 5ft 9” to hobbit as I went on tip toe to fix a necklace, till the whispered confirmation went round that a gaggle of only girls of 6ft and over had been chosen to wear the 3” + Manolos. Grrrrr
Venexiana Metropolitan Pavilion
Mood: starting to get tired and tetchy
"Treat the items like museum samples!" we were cautioned, in fact we were positively told not to touch the pieces until we were given the say so, then to touch them as little as possible and on no condition let them touch the ground or be creased. Well, do you want the girl to wear the bloody dress or not? Was the general murmur.
The garments arrived packed, stuffed and pinned in paper. Really like museum pieces, which I thought was a nice effect, there is something special about a creation fresh from the tailors and being the first to handle the eagerly awaited new season’s collection, but what due palle to unpack and prepare. Diagrams had to be drawn of how to repack them and I’m not kidding, whilst the neurotic, poor man’s Vivienne Westwood look-alike of a designer went round handling the garments freely and not at all gently, letting the trains drag for a filming camera crew of a programme that was hosted by a Buffalo Bill doppelganger sporting a pair of lederhosen, ladies boots, a cute micro top hat and carrying in his arms a large garden gnome as accessory, mascot, new boyfriend? I don’t second-guess any of these types and as much as I love the energy and the eccentricity of this realm, some people just don’t live in the real world.
If only the collection was as interesting as its creators - Laser cut, white doily baby doll dresses finished with oversized pockets, ballet socks and great, patent platform Mary Janes opened the show, followed by a Latin feel with chiffon polka dot mini skirts and dresses under exaggerated bell sleeved, off the shoulder blouses. The finale saw the girls as the peacocks that they are in backless, strappy gowns with long swishy trains in green and yellow organza. And they wanted none of this to touch the floor? Yeah, right.
A lovely collection hosted in a good airy space of the Metropolitan pavilion, but by the end of it we were all very cheesed off and tired by the nitpicking and finicky ways of the stylists. If you want people to acquiesce to a bollock full of fuss and censure pay them more, because the majority of the team agreed not to work for her next season, the clothes aren’t worth it.
Things swiped:
Flesh coloured g-strings
Enough toupee tape to make sure I don’t have a nipple tassel misdemeanour for many months to come