Marc Bouwer Does Not Care For Skinny Models

DAHLINGS:

Before taping his “virtual runway show” with heiress Lydia Hearst last week in a studio by the Chelsea Piers, designer Marc Bouwer explained the concept behind his Spring 2010 collection. And expressed some surprising thoughts on fashion models.

When asked why he had made such a radical change from his Fall 2009 collection, which had featured soft nature colors and flowing shapes, Mr. Bouwer responded: “What is the most non-traditional spring color? Red. Mix it with white, then a rich royal blue, the prints. And of course, black.”

“My inspiration is the 80s woman,” he said of his collection. “But empowered and beautiful. My collection is the 80s with a nod to the future. Two years ago I wouldn’t be doing this.”


Marc Bouwer and Lydia Hearst
Photo by Elisa DeCarlo

I then asked him what has become my standard question: would he consider making clothes for a woman my size? Unlike other designers, he didn’t give me a blank stare, but smiled.

“Fashion is for everyone,” he replied. “Beauty exudes from the woman. My clothes are meant for all women. Embrace it, wear it. Wear clothes that make you feel beautiful. We have to use the skinny models for the camera. But I don’t like it.”

And indeed, Mr. Bouwer has designed for curvaceous celebrities Jennifer Lopez and Beyonce. His Spring 2010 collection is full of clothes that could be worn by a woman of any size. If I did not worship Oscar de la Renta, Marc Bouwer could easily become my favorite current designer.

The collection launches officially this morning at www.marcbouwer.com. I know that I shall be watching.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Random Musings On Fashion Week S/S 2010

DAHLINGS –

I have a few moments to sit quietly at home, sipping a cappuccino. Bucky is in my lap; he's been in a deep funk because I have left him at home this time. In February, his lunging at Anna Wintour was not to be tolerated. Bad enough he's already bitten Andre Leon Talley! (Search this blog for the entire story.) I've been musing over the first four days of New York Fashion Week.

THE AUDIENCE

Cathy Horyn wrote a brilliant front-page article in The New York Times on Friday, about high fashion falling to earth. As much as your dutiful correspondent adores the shows, one has to ask oneself at this time: is it worth it?

On the one hand, the spectacle, the showmanship, the exquisite workmanship of some of the clothes is simply breathtaking. Some garments have brought tears to my eyes for their sheer beauty. Some outfits have made me wonder what drugs the designer was consuming when he created them.

On the other hand, the voracity of the media is one thing. But observing the same voracity in the eyes of desperate “people of the moment” and want-to-be “people of the moment” is another thing altogether.

For instance, last night, backstage at the Custo Barcelona show I was SQUASHED between Mr. Dalmau, who is tiny, dozens of PYTs and show-crashers. Some of them leaned back on my capacious bosom as if it was an armchair. (One knows they have an exaggerated sense of entitlement, but my breasts are not included, thank you very much.) Somehow one simply could not escape being next to Mr. Dalmau; the crowd simply carried me across the dressing room.

Moi, trapped behind Custo Dalmau (and holding onto a dress rack for dear life)

My face was also pinned by the back of a television camera. When I howled, the swine of a cameraman was completely unapologetic. If it had been Tori Spelling, who was at the Christian Siriano show, he would have been groveling. God knows she probably wouldn’t have even felt it through the Botox and the heavy makeup.

Backstage Tori glued herself to poor Christian’s side until he grabbed his bodyguard and ran out of the room. True story, dahlings.

My dear friend funkoma wrote a blog post on a related topic, “To Be Young, Pretty And Stupid.” http://funkomavintage.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-to-be-young-pretty-and-stupid.html/

The shining exceptions to this behavior, besides my wonderful on-site assistant Bella Fierce, have been the darling Tim Gunn (who remembered me, causing a girlish blush to rise to my cheeks), the ever-gracious Fern Mallis, Marc Bouwer, Jack Mackenroth, Christopher Straub, and many of the bloggers I have been fortunate to meet this time at the rodeo.

Tim Gunn Greets His Public

THE UTTER LACK OF FOOD

It should not come as a surprise that, in addition to the paramedics outside the tents with crash carts of Ensure and methamphetamines, there is no food served inside the tents. Free cocktails abound, as does some sponsor's water, Muscle Milk (blech) Coke and Diet Coke, and “mocktails” served up at the Fashion Week juice bar by Belgian restaurant Rouge Tomate, prepared by Rouge Tomate’s mixologist, Rainlove Lampariello. I have no responsibility for the person's name, but let me tell you, the drinks are actually quite delicious. The lemonade with cucumber and mint was an absolute lifesaver before getting back on line for a show. (Your faithful correspondent holds off on the liquor until after the shows are over...one must keep a clear head.)

However, backstage at the Vivienne Tam show, there was an array of goodies. I was so surprised, I photographed them. Then I grabbed a goat cheese sandwich and broke the symmetry of the display.

REMARKS AND RESPONSES

Overheard at the Wednesday night Saks Fifth Avenue celebration: “Saks is a legend," gushed Rachel Zoe. "You come to New York, and this is where you go! It's been around forever, and it's one-stop shopping. Plus, it's Saks! It's Saks Fifth Avenue.”

Stylist Philip Block on clients with bad taste: “I’ll dress them, but they’re not to give me any credit on the red carpet!”

Tim Gunn after the Christian Siriano show: “I feel like a proud papa!”

Half the people one stood next to, usually to a bored, footsore security guard: “Don’t you know who I AM?” Invariable response: nothing. They hear it all day.

Almost any designer save Marc Bouwer when I ask, “Would you ever consider designing for a woman my size?” Invariable response: a frozen stare, and then a few gulps.

That’s all for now. I’m off to prepare myself for my interview with Frazer Harrison, celebrity photographer, so I need to write out a list of rude questions.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Sulking Wonderdog



All photographs Elisa DeCarlo

Fashion Week Day Two: Where To Buy My Chic Look

DAHLINGS -

The Off-Broadway Boutique on West 72nd Street is known for over-the-top glam. Yesterday I woke up to pouring rain and the prospect of running around the Marc Bouwer shoot. So I choose simple flat black boots (www.auditions.com/), black wide-legged trousers, a black shirt, and vintage black earrings.

I topped it off with an amazing red microfiber jacket from Off-Broadway that withstood the rain and a full day of activities and never looked less than perfect!

Here it is on the hanger, and I assure you, the photo does not do it justice! However, I will be wearing it again in days (and nights) to come!


You can find it here: http://www.boutiqueoffbroadway.com/deep-fingertip-length-microfiber-jacket-p-1373.html

Lynn, Yal-el and the staff was unbelievably helpful, and picked out stylish items that any fashionista would be delighted to wear! To see more lovely things, please go to:

http://www.boutiqueoffbroadway.com/

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Inside The Marc Bouwer Photo Shoot!

DAHLINGS -

Rather than do a standard runway show, designer Marc Bouwer chose to spend today filming his Spring 2010 collection as a "virtual runway show" at a studio near the Chelsea Piers. Your faithful correspondent was in attendance. We were treated so well--there was a full buffet of bagels, muffins, cream cheese, vegetables and coffee! It was the first time I'd seen actual food anywhere at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week!

The show will officially launch on http://www.marcbouwer.com/ on Wednesday, September 16th at 9.00 AM. So Marc and his team conducted a taping of the “runway show” during which all the elements present at your typical Fashion Week runway show will take place – backstage commotion, hair and make-up, light and sound testing and designer interviews.

Marc’s model for the season was heiress Lydia Hearst, and they were surrounded by photographers, members of Mr. Bouwer's staff, and others. Later I will post an interesting interview I had with Mr. Bouwer, who in person is far better looking that he was on "Project Runway" last night. In fact he made me think of a young David Bowie. For your delectation, here is a slideshow of photos taken by yours truly.

Sad to say, hours had passed and the models were only just arriving when it was time for moi to leave for the Bryant Park tents uptown. More to follow...I'm simply exhausted.

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