I’ve avoided writing too many reviews here because I hate most of the collections, so eventually I’d sound like a record on repeat. For some reason, though, I feel compelled to write about the recent Couture shows. At the very best they were mediocre; at the very worst just plain awful. Most of them erred toward the “very worst” category.

I’ll start with Dior because it’s the show that showed first. It’s funny: when I started “being interested” in fashion I was a John Galliano (the designer of Dior) fan. I recall opiate and opulent shows of metallic golds and models dressed like transvestites. The clothes were batshit insane: he’d calmly explain in his faux-French accent to reporters something like “I was inspired by the Matrix and dead animals”. Yet through the years he’s either been heavily medicated or became the bitch of rich upper-class 90-year-olds everywhere. That is- his clothes have became boring. Along with Ralph Rucci, he makes clothes for ladies who lunch (and then throw up about half the lunch, probably.)

At Dior this season we were presented with a similar collection to what was presented last season, and the season before that. The typical Dior silhouette- nipped in waist, coats and dresses billowing- in a very mechanical way- from below. Pretty colours, but more court painter than Matisse. Clothes your grandmother would’ve worn. Hell- half of them look like flapper clothes- clothes your great grandmother would’ve worn. This season, the twist was that your grandmother’s clothes were shown with the models wearing lingerie. The models were not sexy- they had as much sex appeal as an actual mannequin in a shop window. Whether Mr. Galliano is trying to say something with the lingerie, his words are lost in the flurry of traditionalism that was his collection. It wasn’t so much as “Dior by Galliano” as “Dior by Galliano disguised as Dior”. Christian Dior is dead. The clothes presented in this collection are dead- nothing new was said. The ladies who’ll no doubt purchase this collection (and it’ll sell well- you can bet that) would do better simply wearing the same Dior Couture from the past few seasons (or from 1950).




I almost don’t want to write anything about Christian Lacroix’s collection. The collection itself was produced on less money than you can buy a family sized car for. This is because the house in Mr. Lacroix’s name is bankrupt. It’s very nearly dead, unless some rich old man decides to suddenly inject some cash into the almost-corpse of Lacroix. To criticize it would be nearly speaking ill of the dead. I mean- it’s not a terrible collection. It’s not even a bad one. I’m listening to Regina Spektor’s album, “Begin to Hope” right now- good songs that’re overproduced- her new album has similar problems. All the songs have been shrink wrapped in plastic, a label stuck onto them and a barcode too. In some ways I feel that Spektor is like a kid in a candyshop when she’s given access to fancy recording equipment and a band: “Ooh! Can we have an echo here!” “Why do you want an echo Regina?” “Because I can!”
That goes for her new album, too. The songs still have some quality to them because they’re good songs, but the production kind of swamps them.
Anyway- (actually, I just wanted to talk about Regina Spektor for a minute there) Lacroix didn’t present a overproduced collection- rather, his talent was swamped by some sort of inhibition that resulted in a fairly subdued collection- for him. The “songs” were there, but for whatever reason, they weren’t singing all too well. Man, this was his Possibly Last Collection- you’d think his swan song would be better. A couple of reviews suggest that he presented a subdued collection in order to lure in a buyer for his company. There probably was that hope. Goddamn, I hope he does get a buyer. Still- everyone likes a good swan song. An album like “Street Legal” won’t sell Bob Dylan- “Blonde on Blonde” will.




Meanwhile at Chanel, Karl Lagerfeld created more clothes for old ladies. Many reviews and press releases disguised as reviews have talked about what was alternatively called “a new silhouette” or “a dress-mullet.” I won’t talk about that because it’s irrelevant: the collection went from either mediocre or bad because of other factors. The embroidery reminded me of couches you can find at garage sales. The colours weren’t particularly pleasing. Some of the patterns looked like carpet from the 70s. The best looks were those in model-t black- with black you don’t have the worry of colour, and patterns don’t show up as much. In fact, some of those black looks were damn good. Yet the patterns and colours dilapidated the collection from a fine wine to a cheap (and warm) English beer.




Givenchy is one of those houses so pretentious it hurts.
This would be fine if their collections were any good. I mean- even if they were a tad good, maybe I’d have the tiniest space in my heart for Givenchy. They’re not. This season, our hero in imposter’s clothes- Ricardo Tisci- showed a collection doused in past Alexander McQueen collections and a child’s idea of what “couture” is. The blown-up houndstooth used on one or two of the dresses was particularly reminiscent of McQueen. The bowl cut on one of the models was particularly reminiscent of New Zealand’s former Prime Minister, the right Honourable Helen Clark. The spikes used in some of the dresses were simply passe.




Let’s see- what’s left? Valentino, designed by two people whose names I always forget. Dresses designed as accessories. An accessory is something you can place down, put away. A dress is something that if you take it off, you’re naked. It is not an accessory. The dresses looked like handbags.
Jean Paul Gaultier was hilarious. It’ll piss off a bunch of people- it had fur. The clothes themselves looked like cliched supervillain clothes, and I happen to like cliched supervillain clothes- so I guess I lied at the start of my review; Gaultier was pretty good! Those weird sort of Hollywood fetish clothes that he presented here aren’t in vogue anymore (haven’t been in a long time). It’s too bad: they’re pretty funny. If I was a female villain, I’d order the entire collection. In multiples.




(Above, Jean Paul Gaultier makes a good case for dating super villains. All other images are of the collections written about above them.)