My typical favorite Fashion Week cities are as follows: Milan, New York and Paris tied for second, and finally, London. But this season, British designers from Tom Ford to Christopher Kane brought some serious sequins, lace and a dash of quintessential Brit humor. So, even with Paris Fashion Week before us, I’m declaring London this season’s best. Here’s why it simply can’t get any better than the city of tea, grunge, and Big Ben for Fall 2014.
It’s undeniable: London’s designers did everything those in New York and Milan did, but better. Love Marchesa’s sheer, lacy looks? Upgrade to Temperley London, where you’ll find the same delicate florals, but with a gilded baroque flair. Or if you’re more magnetized by bold sheer designs, House of Holland is your go-to. Its show featured rainbow tops and skirts with sexy chiffon cutouts – not for the faint of heart, but certainly for the attention-seeker.
One of New York Fashion Week’s highlights was Rodarte’s gowns printed with Star Wars characters and scenes. Besides making us pray for celebrities to walk the red carpet donning images of C-3PO or the Death Star, we love the nerd-chic humor of it all. But might we argue that Tom Ford did wit just a little better in London? Taking a cue from Jay-Z’s song “Tom Ford” – “I don’t pop molly, I rock Tom Ford” – Ford sent models down the runway in glittery, numbered dresses with the word “molly” crossed out near the waist. No doubt Hova was in the audience having a good hearty laugh.
Finally, there’s the battle of the art punks: New York’s Jeremy Scott versus London’s Christopher Kane. While Scott is usually one of my all-time favorites, this year he went a tad too far for me. Call me a girly girl, but I’m not one in favor of seeing kneepads on high fashion runways. But while Scott was sporting it up, Kane went in a more sophisticated direction, albeit still totally artsy. Continuing his love of graphic flowers, he placed blown-up images of them behind boxy panels on an otherwise basic skirt suit, and then proceeded to create chiffon dresses with dozens of book-like pages. The piece’s movement was, in a word, unreal.
We salute you, London, and Paris? Good luck.
Kate Foster is a hodgepodge of seemingly unrelated titles: writer. Blogger. Beauty and fashion junkie. Cat devotee. Art history buff. Harry Potter nerd. Cheesy 90's television fan. Sometimes-gamer. Seasonal sculptor. Mostly she’s a music enthusiast. While her heart and soul belong to 50's and 60's crooners like Etta James, Sam Cooke and Elvis Presley, one shouldn’t be surprised to find her listening to Lady Gaga or Jay-Z. Most days, though, she’s in an indie-punk mood somewhere in between - she counts the Pixies, the White Stripes, M83, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs as a few of her favorites. And while you’ll typically see her bobbing her head calmly at concerts, occasionally she pulls out all the stops for bands like the Black Lips. She treasures her bruises like a child. After graduating from the University of Georgia with degrees in Journalism and Art History, Kate aspires to move to New York City. There, she hopes to continue to write. She also plans on pretending to understand the art at MoMA and stuffing her face with cronuts and one dollar pizza. Kate’s heroes range from Oscar de la Renta and Mindy Kaling to Ernest Hemingway and Rupert Giles. She practically inhales iced coffee on a daily basis. Her favorite color is yellow, and like Buddy the Elf, she considers candy a major food group. She has dreams almost every night involving the coolest architecture and interior design, and has no idea what it means. Seriously, what does that mean?!