London: Day one
By Leah Rumack
Shown: Biba Fall 2008. Photography by Peter Stigter.
My London Fashion Week kicked off backstage at Poltock & Walsh with super-cute Canadian stylist/magazine editor/London it-girl, Leith Clark, who styled the show (Psst! Watch for more on her in an upcoming issue of FASHION!)
The girls behind the line are Fiamma Poltock and Katie Walsh, and I predict big things from these fashion-school grads and New Gen winners over the next few seasons. The show took place in the charming, old-fashioned library at the Science Museum, which seemed sort of perfect for the duo’s lush bird-inspired, but not in a costume-y way, show full of feather-festooned frocks, many with stiff ruffles and even little bustles that evoked plumage, all paired with little booties covered with golden pheasant and quail feathers. There were also several sleek colour-blocked shifts, but the showstopper was the organza dress that was so architectural it looked like a perfect little perfume bottle. Though not so much a sitting dress, per se. “We’ll put her on roller skates and push her down the street!” laughed Walsh.
Biba was one of the two eagerly-anticipated revival shows this week starring iconic Brit labels (the other being Ossie Clark). This was the hot ticket today. It certainly was a glamorous collection of perfectly lovely eveningwear-influenced clothes, and throwing it at Claridge’s Ballroom didn’t hurt the posh factor one bit. And though the 1960s-70s label was just brought back to life in 2006, it seems like the Biba party girl has just been taking one nice, long disco nap waiting for her next night out. Sharp mini dresses in jewel-toned silk organza and puffy black skirts with sequin, jewel or feather-encrusted tops (honestly, is there a bird left in England?!), often topped off with cone-shaped hats, were perfect for a night on the town, though Biba Girl 2008 says Carnaby Street is out, Hackney is in! Cool seventies-style jackets with their aniseed ball buttons keep her warm on the night bus home. It was a lot of cocktail party pretty but I wonder if a line designed by artistic director, Hector Castro’s team of young fashion graduates will be able to inspire the fashion world after the first fit of nostalgia is over. Sounds a little bit like corporate-speak excel- document design to me. See photos from this show.
Known for their gothy, not-always-commercial looks, the boys at Modernist didn’t disappoint. For one, you practically died just getting to the show, as you had to climb your way up a fire escape and over a rooftop. The collection, called Voodoo (naturally), was a thinky take on the occult and voodoo–yes, that’s the Twin Peaks theme you hear playing pre-show–with a Lynchian world full of black and grey looks slashed with the occasional bit of red for effect. Silk georgette is shredded into ribbons and draped over dresses, an armour-like 1950s-style jacket is made of what looks like elastic and knits are simultaneously chunky and organic and high tech, with several different pattern blocks woven right into the design. All paired with charcoal lips, of course.
Osman Yousefzada: Huge disappointment from this Mango-sponsored line and a designer who is a nominee for the Design of Year award at the Design Museum. Yousefzada (say that three times fast) had a way-too-literal take on Eastern influences. Supposedly inspired by Japanese Buddhist temple sculptures, I wasn’t quite sure how a lavender matador jacket, covered with more tassles than your Grandmother’s living room, was meant to evoke the dear Boddhisatva. Silky Indian churidars pants (i.e., skinny and ruched, gee, where have I seen that before?) were merely fine, and simple shirts and dresses with stitched-on scarves hanging off them (that were probably supposed to be modern, but really just made you want to yell: “Darling, your scarf got stuck to you in the wash!”) rounded out one massive misstep.
About town: All the girls on the street are wearing black leggings, loose tops, flat scrunchy boots and fringes (i.e. bangs).
People at the shows are wearing skinny jeans and towering heels. If the high-waisted, super-wide pant is supposedly the new shape, it looks like all of London didn’t get the memo.
God I wish I had a helicopter! What I forgot about London is that it’s bloody massive! Walking from one end of the tube station to the other is like taking a hop, skip and a jump to Halifax, never mind actually getting to the venues. Let’s just say I gave up on my heels by the middle of the second day. Thanks for my $24 flat boots Primark! (Which I changed into in the middle of Oxford Street). Now I look like a proper London girl.
The girls behind the line are Fiamma Poltock and Katie Walsh, and I predict big things from these fashion-school grads and New Gen winners over the next few seasons. The show took place in the charming, old-fashioned library at the Science Museum, which seemed sort of perfect for the duo’s lush bird-inspired, but not in a costume-y way, show full of feather-festooned frocks, many with stiff ruffles and even little bustles that evoked plumage, all paired with little booties covered with golden pheasant and quail feathers. There were also several sleek colour-blocked shifts, but the showstopper was the organza dress that was so architectural it looked like a perfect little perfume bottle. Though not so much a sitting dress, per se. “We’ll put her on roller skates and push her down the street!” laughed Walsh.
Biba was one of the two eagerly-anticipated revival shows this week starring iconic Brit labels (the other being Ossie Clark). This was the hot ticket today. It certainly was a glamorous collection of perfectly lovely eveningwear-influenced clothes, and throwing it at Claridge’s Ballroom didn’t hurt the posh factor one bit. And though the 1960s-70s label was just brought back to life in 2006, it seems like the Biba party girl has just been taking one nice, long disco nap waiting for her next night out. Sharp mini dresses in jewel-toned silk organza and puffy black skirts with sequin, jewel or feather-encrusted tops (honestly, is there a bird left in England?!), often topped off with cone-shaped hats, were perfect for a night on the town, though Biba Girl 2008 says Carnaby Street is out, Hackney is in! Cool seventies-style jackets with their aniseed ball buttons keep her warm on the night bus home. It was a lot of cocktail party pretty but I wonder if a line designed by artistic director, Hector Castro’s team of young fashion graduates will be able to inspire the fashion world after the first fit of nostalgia is over. Sounds a little bit like corporate-speak excel- document design to me. See photos from this show.
Known for their gothy, not-always-commercial looks, the boys at Modernist didn’t disappoint. For one, you practically died just getting to the show, as you had to climb your way up a fire escape and over a rooftop. The collection, called Voodoo (naturally), was a thinky take on the occult and voodoo–yes, that’s the Twin Peaks theme you hear playing pre-show–with a Lynchian world full of black and grey looks slashed with the occasional bit of red for effect. Silk georgette is shredded into ribbons and draped over dresses, an armour-like 1950s-style jacket is made of what looks like elastic and knits are simultaneously chunky and organic and high tech, with several different pattern blocks woven right into the design. All paired with charcoal lips, of course.
Osman Yousefzada: Huge disappointment from this Mango-sponsored line and a designer who is a nominee for the Design of Year award at the Design Museum. Yousefzada (say that three times fast) had a way-too-literal take on Eastern influences. Supposedly inspired by Japanese Buddhist temple sculptures, I wasn’t quite sure how a lavender matador jacket, covered with more tassles than your Grandmother’s living room, was meant to evoke the dear Boddhisatva. Silky Indian churidars pants (i.e., skinny and ruched, gee, where have I seen that before?) were merely fine, and simple shirts and dresses with stitched-on scarves hanging off them (that were probably supposed to be modern, but really just made you want to yell: “Darling, your scarf got stuck to you in the wash!”) rounded out one massive misstep.
About town: All the girls on the street are wearing black leggings, loose tops, flat scrunchy boots and fringes (i.e. bangs).
People at the shows are wearing skinny jeans and towering heels. If the high-waisted, super-wide pant is supposedly the new shape, it looks like all of London didn’t get the memo.
God I wish I had a helicopter! What I forgot about London is that it’s bloody massive! Walking from one end of the tube station to the other is like taking a hop, skip and a jump to Halifax, never mind actually getting to the venues. Let’s just say I gave up on my heels by the middle of the second day. Thanks for my $24 flat boots Primark! (Which I changed into in the middle of Oxford Street). Now I look like a proper London girl.){kind=link}