Ok, I've finally gotten out of my Heatherette-induced K-hole. I've had a lot of time to think about what I saw. If you asked me yesterday what I thought of the show, I'd have said it was like someone ate a Jo-ann's Fabric store and threw it up all over. Then ate a fourth of July church picnic , tablecloths, napkins and all, and then threw that up. I mean that's what I would have said yesterday. I've given it a lot of thought and have changed my mind. There was fringe, on top of appliques, on top of doo-dads and doo-hickeys, they were almost Suessian. Heatherette was like doing every drug you ever took— all at once.

Richie Rich, was a real honest-to-God club kid from New York City. Remember when clubbing and raves were hot shit in the 80s and 90s. The club kids were kind of like the disco era's dumpster prom baby. I was one of them, for a little while. So I started feeling nostalgic. I had just watched Party Monster, (I never watched it before because we sorta knew those guys the movie was about. We knew mostly Freeze, the hammer weilding drug addict. ) And I was thinking how back then kids glue gunned their clothes together and created “fierce” looks just for that night. It was their art and self expression, and I pictured Traver Rains and Richie Rich running around with glue guns.

Getting of course Patty Hearst's daughter Lydia and pornstar Jenna Jameson to walk in the runway. But even if it wasn't for the guy dancing, er rolling, in the aisles, the main tent felt at that moment like the fiercest party of fashion week. Heatherettte is about fun. It was so much fun that even now, it's all a blurr… You know what they say, “If you remember Heatherette, then you weren't there…”

Jenna Jameson

Lydia Hearst

Lydia, Jenna, and Richie Rich, on rollersaktes…

LA Weekly