Watch the news regularly (I dare you!) and once in a while you may see a story about a prominent fashion show going on. Usually, the ones that make the news are being held in Paris or New York, but sometimes you‘ll even see one from a little closer to home.
If you are like most rational human beings (and the better part of the dog population) you have watched the video clips from these shows and said to yourself something along the lines of, “You’ve got to be kidding!”
Because what goes on at these “fashion” shows is that a room full of people you would rather not have living next door to you have gathered in semi-darkness to watch young women—and occasionally men—parade down a catwalk in clothing no one in the real world would ever wear outside of a Buck Rogers Fan Celebration.
Women with giant headdresses, capes made out of old newspapers, dresses constructed from things found in a public restroom, this is what is called fashion. As the model struts the catwalk, looking sullen and hostile as if daring you to make fun of her outfit, a guy from Omaha with an affected French accent will be saying something like, “And here we have the latest creation from that inimitable scion of the boardwalk, Yves St. Laurence Von Wallenschtein Abernathy, whose daring use of colors and pharmaceutical supplies have produced yet another breathtaking ensemble of … “
And all the while you’re thinking, “No one outside this show will ever wear that!”
So, would someone please tell me what the purpose of these shows is? There was one in England recently where all the “fashion” on display was capes. Particularly hideous capes, designed to look—as far as I could tell—as if they had been created by sewing Hefty bags to tulle and topping off the monstrosity with a dollop of what we hope was ice cream. Oh, and did I mention that the sullen, angry, emaciated models (but I repeat myself) were ONLY wearing the capes? See, I understood that part. The capes were ugly and the models weren’t much more attractive, so I’m thinking the “designer” knew his only way of making a splash and getting any press was to run the models out there in the nude.
Now, if you ask someone who is in the “biz”, you’ll be told that these far-out designers, the ones who are really on the “cutting edge” and “pushing the boundaries” are throwing items out there that may be derided today but will gradually work their way into every-day wear in the next few years. In other words, we can all look forward to skinny, antagonistic women wearing only capes of refuse in the next few years.
I, for one, am thinking of moving somewhere colder in hopes of avoiding this.