Skip to main contentOH...MY...GAWD. Willamette Week attended Olympus Spring '07 Collections IN NEW YORK FRIGGIN' CITY!
That's right, bitches. We were there, right in the front row! Well, OK, maybe not the front row, but we were there nonetheless. And since it was our first time to encounter the mass hysteria that is a "Fashion Week" in a major metropolis like New York, as opposed to what passes for "fashion week" in a little town like Portland, we didn't know quite what our skinny little asses should expect. Except the fact that if you haven't started your diet yet, you might as well forget it, because everyone at these so-called fashion shows are super-duper skinny. Like bone-thin. They make Nicole Richie look fat. That's why we faced everyone, and every show, with a big Oregon smile and grinned our way through even the most taxing of shows. Here are some of the highlights (and lowlights) from the madness.
Sunday, Sept. 10
5 pm, The Bryant Park Tents (aka Ground Zero): Off to pick up credentials for the umpteen fashion shows that comprise the Olympus Spring '07 Collections. Me and my fellow P-town traveler, Karen Vitt, wander the lobby for freebies at what is touted as the center of the fashion universe, at least for a couple of weeks in September. I try to get Havaianas flip-flops for free. No dice—they're out. Try to crash the cushy Moët booth. Denied. We see Pat Field (costume designer for The Devil Wears Prada and Sex and the City) inside the Moët party that we are outside of. She looks totally grumpy. Clearly, the Moët booth is not all that.
6 pm, Kai Kuhne: Guess which model kicks off the show? Portland's own Darla Baker, from Mode Models! Of note: Wherever we go, Portland seems to follow. Kuhne's line itself was minimal, using folds and draping techniques he called "German origami." The line featured plenty of voluminous shapes, but with details that made the idea approachable. Baker's first outfit, a white mini-shirtdress featuring a blouson top with a fitted skirt, walked the line of wearability quite well.
Monday, Sept. 11
11 am, Cynthia Steffe: Models innocently traipse down the runway, rocking early-'60s-inspired resort wear. Think white sand and turquoise water—the kind of clothes that make you want to throw on a pair of Jackie-O sunshades and hop a plane to the Riviera.
6 pm, Max Azria: Let's put it this way: if a designer is going to utilize military-like colors, like black, khaki and olive green, he should make it interesting. BCBG front-man Azria went for the volume, but the result was burlap sack. More interesting: the back of Vogue editrix (and Devil Wears Prada inspiration) Anna Wintour's head—sister needs a new hairdo. Also, The Oregonian's fashion columnist, Vivian McInerny, getting kicked out of the front-row seat she stole from (hold your applause, please) Mr. and Mrs. Kevin Costner.
7 pm, John Varvatos: Hot, hot, hot. 'Twas hard to concentrate amid all the pretty boys, but the theme here was deconstruction, giving the outfits a prep-school punk look right down to their skull-printed belts.
Tuesday, Sept. 12
3 pm, Betsey Johnson: A celebration of the first lady of rock 'n' roll fashion's very first granddaughter, flirty frocks and girly babydoll dresses ruled Betsey's runway; and, of course, her signature cartwheel wrapped up the show. We love it when grannies do acrobatics.
7 pm, Nanette Lepore: One word: Yikes! It was all '80s colors in timeless styles: fluorescent yellow evening dresses in form-fitting '40s shapes, seafoam green shifts, black lace over fluorescent green. Except it didn't make sense—much like Mischa Barton in the front row, wearing a cocktail dress with Keds.
Wednesday, Sept. 13
Morning: After last night's hangover wears off we hit the Lycra denim lounge at Bryant Park. Learned about a new magical lycra called "X-fit." It stretches in all different ways, paving the way for miracle jeans to fit all women. Look for it in the Serfontaine brand, in stores in December. I said all that to get a free pair of jeans. It worked. Oh, and by the way, skinny jeans are already over. FYI.
Thursday, Sept. 14
Noon, Cynthia Rowley: First half: '80s volume is back, with loose-yet-formed shapes and a geometric take on lace. Second half: heinous—like the early '90s puked on some fabric.
1:30 pm, Vena Cava: The young designers behind Vena Cava opted for an "installation" instead of a typical fashion show. We got models having a picnic on AstroTurf, shucking corn and lounging around in statuesque gowns, shifts and skinny pants bearing a repeating pattern that looked to us like a city skyline.
We wish we got into more fabulous, hard-to-get-tickets-for shows, like the super-packed Heatherette, Marc Jacobs or Zac Posen, but alas...next time. From what we saw, here's our bottom-line prediction for next spring: volume—in shorts, jumpers, pants and dresses. It's baggy layers now, and it won't be going away next year. Once we figure out how to decipher the fabric, we'll let you in on the secret. Until then, we'll look at ourselves in the mirror each morning and repeat the mantra: "Happy dieting, you fat, unfortunate pig!"
WWeek 2015