If Hollywood’s taught me anything, its how dish a salacious headline to lure eyeballs. Still, I aim to use this power for good. Now that I got you to my yard, I will take this opportunity to say (and mean) that the beast that once embodied L.A’s fashion scene, is starting to resemble a beaten-down endangered varmint.
L.A fashion week is dead I heard these words pass through the lips of daddy’s girl-cum-goth-designer and subject of an article I did earlier this year. Truth is, knowing she was in the throes of launching a maiden label and that LA is, after all, home to the largest fashion district in the country, I couldn’t take her seriously.
But seriously. After sitting in for the past two seasons, and catching wind of the latest audacious rumor: PR firm World Coast Management pulls out of its planned fashion event—with no apologies—leaving designers out in the cold, a mere 48 hours before curtain call. I’m officially buying into the hype. Could the past two seasons be the start of the last few seasons for L.A fashion week?
Losing the Mercedes Benz sponsorship a few years back was the bullet that brought the beast to his knees; can-doers like Concept FW have been grasping at straws since to keep the industry afloat. And falling short in the process are key ingredients to industry privilege: stellar runway presentation, swag-for-days, and the celebrity cameo—which by the way, losing in a city crawling with ‘em, is near, drekkitude!
To boot, the fashion week calendar dwindled down to a few scattered shows leading up to a three-day runway presentation, from Friday to Sunday, at the Spring Arts Center in downtown LA’s checkered, urban core. Look, I’m not one to kick a wounded animal while its down, in an effort to support and report, I managed to get my wedge in the door at half-past the eleventh hour to bring some much needed attention to the cause that is the city of angels’s fashion and art community.
To end on a good note, I’ll tell you that the World Coast Management sob story I mentioned earlier, did end up happily ever after when fashion heroes TwoPointOH! and Fashion Los Angeles turned WCM’s industry fail into fairytale by stepping in and offering a lofty space for refugee’d designers to present their collections.
I’m willing to forget about the cheap shades/epic branding fail they tried to pass off as swag to front row, so I can admit that this was probably one of the better shows I saw this weekend.
Goddesses draped in simple black, white, navy and violet palettes stomped down a fertilizer-laden runway in gladiator heels. The collection was solid and maintained a wear-ability status quo. I didn’t quite grasp the cohesiveness between the threads and the (so-called African) theme except for the few occurrences of beaded and leather-fringed neck wear. But I have to hand it to Mike Vensel—the omnipresent fashion designer/artist/photographer—who was able to merge early century-madness, with Grecian economical times, all while treading in bullshit.
The next label proved to be slightly more courteous—by being a mere 40 minutes late. martinMARTIN the hand-clasping design duo responsible for a quietly stylish, urbane, urban and feminine harmony of three different cultures – American, Japanese and Italian. The Angels of Debauchery collection went beyond adrogymous and into a post-sexual style realm. I wasn’t sure who who wore what but it wore me out—in a ghost-gone-goth-sort of way. The show was down-tempo from pensive, paranormal muses dragging their blanched Dr. Martens to the tune of an inconsolable eargasm. I ingest the show as purely conceptual, and took away the notion that we are soo about men in skirts right now.
Stay Tuned for More LA Fashion Week Coverage Coming soon.