Gendy AlimurungAh, Boxeight. It's messy in the best, most flattering sense
of the word. As one reporter sitting next to me said, “Isn't it totally like
the kids have taken over?” Yes, for sure.
This fashion event is rough around the edges and has a sense of humor about
itself. That last bit alone puts it leaps and bounds ahead of most other fashion events I've been to. For instance, the DJ at the COA show is playing Sir Mix-a-Lot's “Baby
Got Back” (“36-24-36? Only if she's 5'3…my anaconda don't want none unless
she's got buns hon”). I was waiting for the skinny girls to come out to fully
appreciate the irony, but alas: COA is a mens' line.
The clothes are fine and
wearable and should do well in the stores–any girl would be happy to have her
boyfriend show up for a date in one of their quilted biker jackets over crinkly
acid wash jeans. (Though, maybe not the peach-colored jeans.) One
jacket is made of black pleather patent lambskin so shiny it looks like it's been licked.
Also, there are men–okay, gay men–in the ladies restroom. And what a restroom. There is nothing like peeing in a room done
up in marble and gold.
Between shows, people browse the free copies of
Good advice from the tattoo of the guy sitting next to me at LAEKEN
Little girl in black at martinMARTIN
Neo-Victorians
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