Fashion shows are like a line of blow. All that heady anticipation and the buzzy rush of adrenaline, and the music, loud and clamorous, hammering into the head as the lights go down – and then the orgasmic parade of color and texture and a surge of loveliness overwhelming the mind. Everything is beautiful; life is wonderful and fashion is bliss.
And then, just like that, the rush is over. Slowly the lights come up. The models have vanished, as evanescent as a macaroon – and there’s only the memory of those clothes wafting down the aisle like petals, like cherry blossoms after a spring rain. That, and the slight tingle in the throat.
This year’s Fall/Winter 2011 Mercedes Benz Fashion Week opened for its second incarnation at Lincoln Center – and everywhere you looked inside the tents, it was clear that the fashion nomads had found their oasis. Bryant Park is but a memory; Lincoln Center is now home.
Tadashi Shoji showed on the first day, in the Studio. Founder and chief designer of the Tadashi Shoji Collection, Shoji was trained as an artist in Sendai, Japan – and his F/W 2011 collection, inspired by the ancient gardens of the Far East and the formation of moss upon stone and light upon water, was a mesmerizing tribute to the palette and the textures of the natural world.
(Source: MRNY)
As a soundtrack, Shoji chose the hypnotic “Cosmic Love,” by Florence and the Machine, with its incessantly pounding drums and ethereal harp. Backed by Florence’s plaintive voice wailing, “The stars. The moon. They have all been blown out… I’m always in this twilight, in the shadow of your heart,” Shoji’s chiffon and silk evening dresses floated like sea anemones on models as supple as water nymphs.
Blooming in rich jewel tones like violet and garnet, topaz and emerald, Shoji’s exotic flora were marked by exquisite detail: ruching and appliqués, tiers of ruffles and flurries of feathers, and layers of diaphanous fabric. The overall effect of such beauty amidst such cacophony was not unlike witnessing Mother Nature’s final stand before the apocalypse.
Elegant and romantic, Shoji’s F/W 2011 collection is destined, once again, for red-carpet entrances worn by the likes of his clients such as Kim Kardashian, Vanessa Williams, and the others who love Shoji for his sophistication and craftsmanship.
In the front row, swaddled in a full-length lynx coat sat Olympic figure skater and gay (or not gay) icon, Johnny Weir. Apparently Mr. Weir has yet to get the No Fur memo – but plenty of other fashion-savvy insiders strolled through the tents in a resplendent array of fur-free ensembles that belied the Arctic temperatures outside.
New Yorkers, and those from everywhere else who love (and live for) fashion, attend to the quotidian minutiae of Fashion Week with the same conviction that a Yankees fan quotes baseball stats. While loitering about the tents, sipping Kim Crawford wines and waiting for the shows to start, one is likely to overhear any number of gossipy bits about designers, models, and stylists, traded back and forth with the same delectation that used to define opera queens.
Former supermodels like Irina and Pat Cleveland and Efva Attling glide by, some years older now, but still walking with that pantherine grace that has marked their profession for decades.
And for a moment, as with cocaine, it’s possible to believe that beauty reigns supreme – and fashion is king.
LINK: Tadashi Shoji Collection
