Edited by Lester Brathwaite on
An insider look from the outside. Issue 1: Even without the Tents, the circus is back in town…
Mother Nature, perhaps seething that she too had not been invited to Alexander Wang’s after party, plopped herself down front row at Fashion Week and proceeded to rain, literally and figuratively, all over the parade.
Following an early morning downpour that left this gal soaked to the Rag & Bone, the skies intermittently threatened to open up and swallow us all whole. If you managed to avoid the occasional shower, you no doubt got mugged schlepping from one show to another thanks to an impenetrable humidity that left many a sartorial spectator soaked, soggy and surly.
Without a cocktail to temper my temper, the humidity threatened to get to me as well, but this isn’t my first time at the fashion rodeo. I’ve learned to take everything in stride, such as standing in line for what easily could’ve been forever for not one but two shows I didn’t even get into.
But that’s the nature of the Fashion Week beast: an annoying, loud, untamed beast that really doesn’t know how to act in public. Lincoln Center each season becomes more and more of a shitshow full of people standing around not doing really much of anything, wearing get-ups/occasionally giving looks of note and, of course, getting photographed and photographing sans discretion.
Even without the Tents, the circus is back in town.
And yesterday’s three-ring attraction was the cool kid trifecta of Prabal Gurung, Alexander Wang and Joseph Altuzarra. Between Gurung’s It-girl-laden front row (usual suspect Kate Bosworth, Hailee Steinfeld and Girls’ Allison Williams), the recently bitten Liberty Ross glowing in the dark at Alexander Wang (a cheap gimmick but an effective gimmick already ripe with editorial possibilities) and CFDA golden boy Joseph Altuzarra basically shutting everything down with the evening’s best collection, NYFW has more balls in the air than Ringling Brothers.