New York Fashion Week, Thursday, Feb 11, Part One

DAHLINGS -

Forgive my not having written sooner, but I was struck down by...tonsillitis yesterday! I awoke, barely able to speak, my body all aching and wracked with pain, tote that barge, lift that bale...

My apologies. Mixing ibuprofen and bourbon was perhaps not the smartest thing to do.

HOWEVER, day one of Mercedes Benz Fashion Week was the usual frenzy, and it was delightful to be back. This is the last show in Bryant Park, due to the protests of the locals. (The official spin is that MBFW has "grown too big" for Bryant Park. If it makes you feel better to say that, than do so by all means..)

The strange little man with the painted suits has added an accessory: a young girl with a double belly-button piercing dressed in what can only be called a Hooters version of his outfit. At one point in the evening she opened her cropped (extremely cropped) jacket to expose her breasts, barely contained by a blue demi-bra. Much to their mutual disappointment, flashbulbs did not go off.

Your faithful correspondent was wearing a delightful hat called the Schaperelli (sp) by Ellen Christine, and a long authentic Victorian cape with a velvet collar. It was a wonderful combination of whimsy and intimidation. I was the darling of the paparazzi.


My INVALUABLE assistant, who is so much more intelligent than the lumpkin I am dictating this to, was coaxed into a photo with moi. Note her coy shyness.



There is so much to write about that I am breaking this into two posts. We arrived in time for the Ports 1961 show, which, to be honest, left me deeply unimpressed.

My favorite garment was this silk dress; it is a pity you cannot see the back treatment, plunging deep ruching.


Big hair and, conversely, tight little funny hats were a theme in this show, reminding me of going from flappers to hair bands of the 80s:


Photos courtesy of Wireimage

One strange touch, as you can see above, were huge unwieldy necklaces--why does this one remind me of a pacifier? One worried about the necklaces bouncing upward and hitting the models in the face.

More to follow in my next post...off for another dose of ibuprofen and bourbon.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

A New York Fashion Week Thank You...

DAHLINGS -

Most of my staff may be total incompetents, but the people "behind the scenes" at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week have made many things infinitely more tolerable to your faithful correspondent. And so before I go on to review more shows or try to write something philosophical about The State Of Fashion today, I wish to thank those, shall we say, little people who grease the wheels of the mighty engine of MCFW.

1) The IMG press office. Despite being continuously deluged and frantic in their small outdoor cubicle, they consented to my bringing an assistant, were always polite and patient with my many requests, and remained unflappable in the face of hysterical reporters and photographers. And somehow found the time to send out media alerts every day. I can barely keep up with this blog-thing, heaven knows how they do it.

2) Citadel, the security staff. These handsome gentlemen (and a few women) turned out to be very pleasant company while one waited in the endless lines. Some of the men have to stand for more than 12 hours a day. If I had to do that and deal with the continual parade of lunatics who attend Fashion Week, I would probably bring a machete in my purse. Or Bucky, who could inflict just as much damage with his razor-sharp teeth. Plus, they are quite easy on the eyes.

3) McCafe. Ordinarily I would not set my high-heeled foot in a McDonald's. Too many of the great unwashed, you know. However, their coffee bar was a lifesaver! Especially when I asked for an iced mocha with an expresso shot and whipped cream! Those caffeine and sugar bombs kept me going for hours on end.

4) The Lu Biscuit girls. These beautiful young girls, mostly aspiring actresses, were always amusing to converse with. Intentionally, I mean. Highly observant and intelligent, and they gave one chocolate biscuits! What more could one ask?

5) Fern Mallis and Lynn Yaeger, for reasons they will understand.




















Fern Mallis

6) The technical crew, who kept the tents from collapsing on all of us, or the floors from collapsing underneath us. (Imagine the huge piles of fashionistas screaming "Don't you know who I am?" at the rescue crews.) Plus, they were good looking men, and you know how I feel about that.















(Hubba hubba)

7) The Information Desk Staff. Not only did they give me scads of reading material, they tried to help me when:

Un Grand Merci Not You To:

The French documentary crew who had me rush to Bryant Park at noon for an interview, only to stand moi up! Now you know why so many people do not like the French. And the phone number they gave me was in France! For almost an hour, the staff at the IMG Information Desk tried to help me dial the number, to no avail. Je crache sur les producteurs de documentaires français de films.

Off to the tents - more later, dahlings!

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Still Sulking Wonderdog