Trippin'

Not me.
Fashion.
And Karlie Kloss at McQueen's.
Fashion is facing so many contradictions it looks as if it was about to trip and fall, face against the ground, any minute.
It seems the economical crisis is the biggest challenge this weird industry has ever had to face.
I mean who is going to buy the 50.000 $ Balenciaga top ? A couple of Russian billionaires ? And then, what next ? The shows will take place in museums where us common people will be able to admire and analyse this thing called couture, remembering how our grand-mothers used to be able to afford at least a couple of pieces a year ?
The over-clever Musée du Textile curator Olivier Saillard told me recently that fashion was about to turn into a discipline, like contemporary art, getting a lot of media attention, but not consumed.
So what's left to do for the designers ?
Be really crazy and take fashion as an art, a big show, almost a joke ?
That's obviously what McQueen chose to do with his crazy circus.
That's probably what Jean-Charles de Castelbajac chose to do too. This designer has never been acclaimed by the fashion people. He even became totally "ringard" a dozen of years ago. But his humouristic, open-minded, political and sarcastic vision of fashion seduced many trend-setters, wanabe celebrities and cool kids in Paris. He is the only designer I know that communicates directly with the public on facebook.
Anyways his show was clever. No Zahm, Wintour or Roitfeld was there, but the room was packed with an original, crazy-looking, young hipster crowd that rushed on the catwalk at the end of the show to get a grip of the Obama bills the models threw in the air during the Finale.
Noone thinks his Wharol dress is sharp, stylish or futuristic. It's just funny and so accurate.
The designer endorses his role as an artist. As an artist, he's here to give emotion, analysis and his vision of society.What about the rest ?
Well the rest, the ones who still haven't understood that fashion for the next few years will all be about DIY and thrifting, they are just trying VERY VERY hard to be bankable. They just wish they could sell a lot of pieces to buyers. And the buyers need garantees it's gonna work. So what do they do ? They redo Balmain and Givenchy fw 08, cause it was the last thing that worked. And I think if I ever see another pair of leather slim pants, black wedges boots, panther print, fur details, torn tights, studs or pagoda shoulders, I might as well throw up.
And black, black, black, black everywhere.

Can't even remember where this is from. They are all SO SIMILAR.
People are tired. There are now fewer VIPs than street style photographers at the shows and even the most fashion-crazy bloggers are getting bored. Garance, July, Susie... They all call for inovation, creativity, confort, sensibility.
There was another option this season : designing such an ugly collection that the most beautiful thing on the show was this :
And whoever doesn't realize Lara looks like a birthday cake on this should get a new pair of glasses.
I mean WHY pink wool ???
The only thing Chanel did right this season, is this party rue Cambon, where I got a chance to dance with Milla, noticed that Kate Moss was really getting fat(ter), Lilly Allen drunk(er) and Jefferson Hack hot(ter).
There was an incredible fashion climax when I climbed up to Mademoiselle Coco's private appartment where Karl Lagerfeld, the Mulleavy Sis' (Rodarte), Suzy Menkes and Colette's Sarah Lerfel where chatting on Coco's mythic sofa. Anyone weaker than me might have fashion ODed at this very moment.
As I walked down, Lilly and Raquel where dancing and I wondered how they could still be that happy and healthy after four fashion weeks.
My secret crush ignored me cause there were too many models in the room and I therefore became quite irrelevant.
From that moment, as I was just finishing up my eighth glass of champagne, everything became blurry.

I left the place with my best friend, skipped the Castelbajac aftershow at Baron, the Kate Moss appearance at Montana, and had a huge entrecôte, with french fries, in a shitty restaurant open all night on the Champs Elysée, with my red lipstick and 15 cm heels.
That was the best moment of my fashion week.