Fashion Week Part Three - all hail Francisco Costa!

DAHLINGS -

Before I write about any more of the shows, I must tell you about last night (well, some parts of last night). My assistant was missing when I came in this evening, it's quite annoying. She was supposed to lay out my ensembles for tomorrow! She's been in a royal sulk since I informed her she was far too low-class to be seen out and about with me at Bryant Park.

But enough about my domestic troubles. After the shows, it was off to the party of parties, the grand event, the 40th anniversary of Calvin Klein!Of course I had to change in the limo, but I'm an expert at that by now. It was into, of course, a vintage Calvin long chiffon gown (you thought I would wear his vintage jeans? Quel stupide!). This gala event was exactly what your faithful correspondent needed to soothe her jangled senses. Fortunately, I was able to avoid Vincent Gallo. Don't ask me why, but I wonder why he is allowed to live.

The party was held at the High Line, three stories high on 10th Avenue, where I'm told some railroad or something used to be. There were white roses and Calvin Klein adverts everywhere, overwhelming the senses. (And the nostrils.) Our host was the sensational Francisco Costa (I might replace Andre with Francisco, if he is willing!).



If you had laid every celebrity and fashion maven end to end...you would have had what the party looked like by the time it broke up. Here's a glass of champagne to you, mon bien-aimé lecteurs, I only wish you could have been there with me.

Or maybe not.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Project Runway - Hello, Olympics, Goodbye, Dali!

DAHLINGS –

The Olympics have started, but it’s the end for Jennifer, whose mantra was that her vision was “Holly Golightly at a Salvador Dali exhibit.” Poor deluded little thing. This week’s challenge was to create outfits for the female athletes at the opening ceremonies of the Summer Olympics. Simple enough, wouldn’t you think?

Non. Not for this bunch.

Most of them were thrown into a designing tizzy, resulting in some of the oddest athletic wear I have seen since I was accidentally taken to a Burning Man some years ago. Jennifer could simply not grasp the concept, and ended up creating Olympic Barbie:

What this outfit has to do with the Olympics, with athletics, with China, I have no idea. And neither did she. Which got her promptly, and understandably, auf’d. Since I only noticed her in the last episode, I cannot say that I am sorry, although I am hoping Leatha Stella gets the biker boot soon. Is it me, or she sending the same sad outfit down the runway again and again?

For some reason, one kept flashing on John McCain at that biker's rally, listening to the bikers waste gallons of fuel gunning their motors as he ridiculed tire gauges.

But I digress. Joe was spot on when he said, “There’s too much drama because there’s too many queens around.” He quietly went ahead and created what your faithful correspondent felt should have been the winning outfit, even with that odd hemline. (It should be noted that many of the so-called even hemlines this season have been, on close-up, as they say, “craptastic”.) This was one of the few times the cliché of the straight man’s fondness for sports actually came in handy.

However, he lost to Korto, whose outfit was nice enough, but not terribly exciting for moi. But at least the curvaceously creative Liberian native is still on the show, which is a plus in more ways than one.



Speaking of queens, was that a collective sound of lustful panting that arose when Apolo Ohno skated up to the designers? Even Tim Gunn looked as though he was thinking, “I’d love to get that outfit off your supremely muscled diminutive physique and show you that this older chap can still do a few gymnastics of his own.”

Commandant Heidi began the show by looking as though both her spray-on tan and sprayed-on leather pants had been heavily greased. Perhaps she had just finished roasting one of her children over an open spit. For the runway, she wore an odd chain-mail outfit, that like most of her runway outfits, are letting her evil side show more than ever. They might need to have an exorcism on the set after the series ends at this rate.

Getting back to the designers and their utter bafflement at the challenge, take a look at this horror by Jerrell:



Didn’t Minnie Pearl once wear that hat? The outfit is a puffy pouffy nightmare, dahlings, no doubt about it. With capri leggings, no less. (And if, like tanorexic Blayne, you don’t remember the Beatles, surely you won’t know who Minnie Pearl is. But I care not.) Like most of the designers, he threw caution and intelligence to the wind. It is a miracle he did not get auf'd. Perhaps it was because during the runway he was actually wearing something more interesting on his head than Kenley.

Daniel sent a cocktail dress, of all things, down the runway! Isn’t he capable of designing anything else?? Are we going to be seeing cocktail dresses made of tin foil, cocktail dresses ala Jane Austen, military cocktail dresses? Of course, one cannot top Michael Kors’s comment that Daniel’s dress looked as though it came from “the Republic of Cocktail Land.” Daniel is the Sweet P of this season, slowly inching his way to a complete mental breakdown. My heart breaks whenever they show him in the workroom, agonizing over his latest...cocktail dress.

For a little fun from the last episode, compare this latest photo of last week's judge Sandra Bernhard with the poster for her upcoming revival.



As I wrote previously, someone has too much time on their hands. Unlike moi!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Today's Fashion Tip:

Do NOT let this happen to you or anyone else you know!

Terrifying.

Crimes Against Fashion At The "Superheroes" Gala!

Dahlings –

As I wrote in my last entry, the annual gala for the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute happened the other night. The theme was “Superheroes”, those mythic comic book heroes and heroines in leotards and capes, among other strange fetishistic clothing.

Today I am going to concentrate on the Crimes Against Fashion that were sprinkled liberally throughout the crowd! If only there was a style Super Heroine!

I’d take on the job, but a) I am far too busy b) I do not care for physical exertion c) it would muss my golden locks.

First, we have the usual hideously gaunt model (one of many). I seem to recall that during dinner in the Temple of Dendur she passed out face-down in her plate. She was later to be heard bringing up what was left of her supper in the ladies' room by one of my informants.



Next, we have Steven Newhouse and Gina Sanders. She is dressed as a Hostess Pink Coconut Cupcake, and indeed, her dress was quite sticky and could be used as a weapon!



Amanda Brooks looks quite stunned to be caught in the muslin mock-up of her gown—Marni had PROMISED to have it ready!



Marni pulled the same stunt on these two young ladies. They look ready to pull a heist at Bergdorf’s by hypnotizing the clerks with those horrendous frocks, don’t you think?



This couple in Burberry are pulling the classic Super-Villain and Hero’s Girl pose: “One step closer, Spiderman, and she’s toast!” (Note that the girl really does look quite terrified. Makes one ponder the nature of the relationship, hmmm?)



Linda Carter looks astonishingly like an old Batman television show villainess, who patterns herself after a bordello owner in the Old West. Perhaps The Murderous Madam?



Fortunately, my dear, dear friend Andre Leon Talley appeared with one of the Williams sisters. Andre’s spectacular red cape was from Chanel, of course. Here he strikes the classic Superman pose, shielding Lois from fire/explosions/falling buildings/Lex Luthor by covering her with his indestructible cape!



Redeeming the whole evening, in your faithful correspondent’s opinion, were the effortlessly stylish David Bowie and his wife, the gorgeous Iman. "We Can Be Heroes," indeed! Proof that style is truly ageless, and I am sure that Anna Wintour would agree!



It almost made up for the Olsen Twins…I haven’t the heart to post a photo of them.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

The Met "Superheroes" Gala - Meet The Heroes and Villains!

Dahlings –

The annual gala for the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute happened recently, and of course, your faithful correspondent was in attendance! (There would have been hell to pay had I not!)

The theme was “Superheroes”, those mythic comic book heroes and heroines in leotards and capes, among other strange fetishistic clothing. No one appreciates a well-built man in Spandex more than moi, but it did seem an oddly petit-bourgeois choice for a costume installation.

However my idol, Anna Wintour, rose to the challenge, in a silver two-piece Chanel costume modeled after "Storm," a character in something called X-Men. I can only assume Storm has something to do with ram's horns.



Most of the guests opted to dress in rather ordinary glamour-carpet gowns, to the disappointment of yours truly. I hoped for a parade of capes, gloves, golden boots, not the usual E! blue plate specials. (For the record, I was in a red satin gown with a matching capelet, gold stiletto heels, and gold gloves, with clutch to match. Bucky accompanied me in a red harness with a little red satin cape with a gold "B" on it. So cute--although he did try to bite Coco Rocha when she bent down to pet him. How does that dog know?)

The absolute worst-dressed women of the evening, however, were the designers themselves. Here is a trio that, if they were Super-Villains, would be called The Hags From Hades, with the power to transform dresses into shapeless, hideous sacks with a wave of their tape measures:




Vera Wang, Donna Karan, Anna Sui

My personal votes for the best dressed woman were polar opposites, but they radiated their own unique style. First we have Sarah Silverman, in her secret identity as Sarabeth, 50s Cutie:



Yes, I know some critics thought she merely looked like a sober version of Amy Winehouse, but since there is no such animal, I cannot agree.

Next we have super heroine Naomi Watts as Queen Lateetha, whose battle cry is “Let There Be Light!” and instantly one’s teeth are blindingly white. She only uses her powers for good.



More later on the many crimes against fashion that were committed before we sat down to dinner in the Temple of Dendur, but I shall leave you with a lovely look at the man with whom I spent the night of the Academy Awards last year, Chris Noth...sigh...who needs George Clooney? (Who was also co-hosting the evening and looking rather drawn, if I may say so.)



Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

The Show Gets A Rave on Glamour.Com!

DAHLINGS –

What can I say? Glorious things keep on happening. The latest is that I am appearing in all my glory on Glamour magazine’s website, Glamour.com! The adorable editor, Kirk, came to opening night and gives the show two big thumbs up!
Here is the Glamour link:

http://www.glamour.com/fashionbeauty/blogs/suze/2008/02/fashionista.html

Not only that, the New York Times article was mentioned by the beauteous Erin on her blog, A Dress A Day!

http://www.dressaday.com/dressaday.html

And I shall be doing some very high-profile interviews later this week.

Once again, I’d like to remind my ardent readers that the show only runs through March 8, and you can find all of the pertinent information and buy tickets by clicking on the pink logo on the right!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

"DIARY OF A MAD FASHIONISTA" OPENS 2/27/08!

DAHLINGS -

I have been up to my exfoliated elbows in work, work, work, and almost completely missed Fashion Week! Please forgive me for this unforgiveable lapse, it won't happen again.

However, I am proud as punch to announce:

LIVE! ON STAGE! THE POPULAR BLOG COMES TO LIFE!

Rival-blasting, servant-bashing, she will stop at nothing for the perfect Dior!




FRIGID new york presents an S & D Production

DIARY OF A MAD FASHIONISTA

A Couture Comedy Made For The Masses
Written by Elisa DeCarlo
Directed by Aaron Haber
Starring Elisa DeCarlo and Shannon Sutherland

"You CANNOT AFFORD to miss this show, dahlings!" -
The Fashionista

WED 2/27 @ 9 PM
SUN 3/2 @ 8:30 PM
TUE 3/4 @ 9 PM
FRI 3/7 @ 10:30 PM
SAT 3/8 @ 10 PM

The Red Room
85 East 4th Street
New York, NY 10003(Between 2nd and 3rd Ave.)
Tickets $12
For tickets, go to http://www.smarttix.com/ or call (212) 868-4444



“This is one seriously funny writer.” VintageGrace.com
“Truly a cool blog!” Critiquemyblog.com
“A fabulously funny blog.” TheThreeTomatoes.com
"DeCarlo is a killer performer" Raven Snook, The L Magazine

Fortunately my costar, the fabulous Shannon Sutherland, made quite a few of the shows, including Michael Kors and Betsy Johnson.

Make certain you buy your tickets ASAP...it's a small theater and will be simply jampacked!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Fashion Week. Marc and Marc: A Study In Contrasts

DAHLINGS -

As you might guess, my new assistant did not quite work out.

So I am actually transcribing this myself, which explains the delay. I have tried to keep up, but there are only so many hours in the day, particularly when you have to keep changing your attire. (I dreaded being criticized by the Fugly Girls in New York magazine for wearing the same outfit twice! They are tres amusant, but merciless.)

Unfortunately, on Monday I had the unpleasant task of not only firing my would-be assistant, but that meant that my maid resigned as well. I was effectively left with NO staff whatsoever, except for my limo driver!

However! Your faithful correspondent is not a woman who bows down before Fate; I dressed myself in a silk robins-egg blue Calvin Klein dress with matching shoes and a carrier for Bucky, and packed a vintage Chanel outfit for the Marc Jacobs show.

I started by attending the Marc Bouwer show at the Promenade. The set design was cool and apaiser, a glowing green runway and backdrop. On each seat was a little tin of sugarless mints, labeled Marc Bouwer Glimints. (Since I arrived early and several seats were still empty, I helped myself. A woman can never have too many breath mints. One might find oneself talking to Roger Federer!)

At first I was a tad de'céu. The first dresses were well cut, but so billowy. Perfect if one is having what is called a “fat day,” but not my idea of Fashion In The True Sense. And there was one white bathing suit that was the image of Rudi Gernreich. The models were all wearing top knots that looked extremely painful, except for one blonde with short hair. So no hats.

However, once the colors came in, matters quickly improved! Turquoise is one of my favorite colors, and it was well represented in dresses, bathing suits, and other garments. The rest of the show was a dazzling sea of color. There was a magnificent red gown that I would have torn off the model’s back had I been sitting close enough. The overall look for the collection was flowing, drapy, and soft.

The only misstep, to moi, was the simply hideous sequined beaded patchwork minidress. What was the man thinking? That Halloween is coming?



However, he saved the best for last: the spectacular dress that closed the show, a turquoise goddess gown with a satin and chiffon train and a matching shredded capelet that mimicked feathers.



Ivana Trump was in the front row near me, of course, with her youthful charge, and on the other side sat a number of models who were to do the Marc Jacobs show much, much, much later in the evening. Tim Gunn and Veronica Webb were there. Fortunately Mr. Gunn didn’t recognize me in the dark. Also nearby was Lisa Marie Presley, who has gone blonde, a most unfortunate choice.

Backstage, I snuck out my camera and got a shot of the designer being interviewed by Veronica Webb (forgive the quality of the shot).



There was an after-party at a hot, tiny storefront down on West 18th Street, where I drank diet soda and made small talk with a rather drunk foreign blonde whom I believe was Donatella Versace.

Then it was back into the limo, out of the Calvin Klein, into the Chanel, put Bucky in a matching burgundy carrier, and back to the Lexington Avenue Armory for the Marc Jacobs show. I had already been informed it was going to start late, but two hours? I had been banned from his show during the last Fashion Week, but I managed to wrangle an invitation in exchange for...well, let's just say it was not exactly legal and involved going to Chinatown in dark glasses.

I am sorry, mon cher readers, but I simply. Didn’t. Get it. There was all this talk of “breaking the barriers of old fashioned sexuality,” which is a lovely idea…Victoria Beckham looked truly ridiculous in the tightest dress this side of a Lower East Side drag queen…but to moi, this is not what is going to take its place. Who needs funny hats when you can have hair like a homeless person?





Courtney Love, swaying slightly, seemed to be enjoying it all, however. I was going to take her to task for inflicting babydoll dresses on us all. But then I remembered it was actually her husband, Kurt Cobain, who introduced that particular phenomenon. A pity that he was the one with the looks and the talent.



The only thing more ridiculous was this outfit from Marc for Marc Jacobs...he absolutely outdid himself, if that's the word I want.



What the well-dressed young lunatic is wearing, no doubt.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

As Fashion Week Continues, The Funny Hats March On!

DAHLINGS -

I could kill that idiot of an assistant of mine! I send her my notes from my Blackberry, and the fool DELETES two of the shows I attended on Thursday!

Bad enough that she made utter HASH of the names Badgley Mishka, but then to ERASE my deathless impressions of Stephen Burrows and Miss Sixty! She knew enough to be nowhere in sight when I reeled in on Thursday night after the after-party at Fashion Rocks. (Note: Carrie Underwood again displayed the common touch, which seems to be her strong suit.)



Miss Sixty displayed utterly ridiculous acid-washed jeans, low-waisted and short. Only the Olsen twins could pull them off, and that is being charitable. The hats were, for the most part, large-brimmed and transparent. Really, the only redeeming feature were the enormous envelope clutch bags.

I much preferred the Burrows show, if only because I love bright colors and I needed some cheering up. The dresses were lively and sweet, and more important; there wasn’t a hat to be seen!

Naturally I had written much more, but it is all GONE.

And my assistant was not in the office yet when I set out this morning. DAMN!

Nevertheless, I bundled up Bucky in his hand-made Dooney & Bourke carrier and hopped into the limo. This year, perhaps to make up for the starved appearance of the models, there are abundant sweet treats everywhere. The models merely stare at them, a little drool escaping their pale lips. And most of the fashion industry folk look as though—how do I describe it? —as if they are looking at the opposite of crystal meth. But I’ve been thoroughly enjoying myself. Too bad poor little Bucky cannot have chocolate…but he did get a praline or two.

Behnaz Sarafpour seems to have gotten back onto her medication. Which has also had the effect of dulling whatever creative faculties she possessed. Dozens of dull identical shirtwaist silhouettes, although she had her own contribution of the Fashion Week 2008 theme: funny hats.




Max Azaria’s show was quite nice if you like lingerie, and I do, but I could not quite imagine it as daywear. Although the heterosexual men in the audience, what few there were, seemed to be able to. As I watched the models march down the pink runway to the tune of "I Like to Play," their expressions numb with misery, the thought came to mind: "Would it kill them to smile?"

Perhaps it would. Perhaps they would simultaneously combust or some such.

The major commotion at the show was caused by celebrity void Nicole Richie, who, it is rumored, is pregnant and has what is now tastelessly called a “bump” showing. If indeed this gaunt attention addict is pregnant, we can expect some very special attention at the preemie ward at Lenox Hill hospital.

Meanwhile, Demi Moore was at the Proenza Schouler show at the Armory, surrounded by bodyguards and looking astonishingly wide-eyed at close range. (In fact, one is not sure she can actually blink.) My revered Anna Wintour was there, in what appeared to be a vintage dress! Oh, be still, my heart!

I am not a fan of this design team, and their choice of layered vests over various...things was only redeemed by the funny hat of choice for this show: tall military helmets with feathers. (Yes, one can quite imagine the fashionable young things at luncheon getting their helmets caught in the chandeliers and hanging plants.)



Ciao for now,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog