The A-Z's of New York Fashion Week Fall/Winter 2013
G Is for "Grills"
Grills are slowly but surely becoming a staple during fashion week. Random kids on the street, the ATL Twins, and even designers like Hood By Air all flashed their sets this season or incorporated them into their shows to the amusement of white people everywhere. At HBA, word got out pretty early that A$AP Rocky, the most stylish grill-sporting rapper these days, was walking in the designer’s show, so naturally everyone lost their shit and wouldn’t shut up about it for days. All the hype was well worth it though as the presentation was a 40-minute long mindfuck with thugged-out identical twins, a hyperactive smoke machine, and hoodies with blond weave—all set to drum and bass music mixed with the type of demonic sounds you’d hear on a bad acid trip... but in a good way? Aside from Rocky’s mouth full of gold, there was also an appearance from a small strange creature by the name of Boychild who convulsed down the runway like a zombie wearing what through the smoke and lasers appeared to be LED grills that flashed uncontrollably. WTF is right—but it was great to see a local designer excite a bunch of stuffy old rich fashion geeks by making ghetto style something to be desired.
H is for "Hangovers"
The severity of a hangover can tell you a lot about the night before. While you often wake up with a really bad one because you had the worst night of your life, normally it’s due to the fact that you did something that was ridiculously fun. This fashion week there was no shortage of parties to attend or hangovers to suffer—so many that we 100 percent definitely wouldn’t be alive writing this right now if we actually tried to brave them all. There are a lot we have no recollection of for bad reasons (i.e., they were lame), but there are a few good ones that we can remember, but barely... We think the VFiles party the first night of shows was good—Le1f DJed, they had free piña coladas, and everyone in the room was dressed like a teenager on Tumblr. ØDD's pre–fashion show after-party at Le Baron was probably worth the pain—it was Chinese New Year and even though it was packed and everyone was crammed up against walls, we vaguely recall copping feels on some babes trying to “get to the bathroom.” The purple magazine party was probably full of cool French people and as impossible to get into as it is every season; we know it was good because they always are. But as usual our party was by far the best of all—Juelz Santana performed, the ATL Twins hosted, half of the office didn’t show up to work the next day, AND we got a mention in “Page Six.” Boom! The New York Post never lies.
I is for "Idiots Who Post Indecipherable Photos of Fashion Shows on Instagram"
NEWSFLASH: Instagram recently saw its most embarrassing week in post-history when suddenly everyone in New York City became a “photographer” and began posting photos of the most bizarre and unflattering things no one would ever care about or want to see ever. Instagrammers posted image after image of indecipherable photos with the hashtag #NYFW. Sources who have viewed the subpar posts whose subjects were even further masked by shitty photo filters like Hudson and Valencia have had several guesses as to what the nature of these horrendous pictures could be. Some say these grainy blurs of light are models midstrut during one of the many runway shows during New York Fashion Week. Others say they are mirror “selfies” that are so poorly shot due to the intense hand shaking of the photographers who might have been grappling with alcohol withdrawal or cocaine jitters while trying to take a successful image of their clothing. However, the most shocking of these reports comes from an exclusive inside source who claims these images are all just a series of “dick pics.” More on the overwhelming evidence leading to this conclusion after the break…
J is for "Jewel Tones"
To be a successful trend forecaster or blogger who reviews shows for the masses, you have to get creative with your lingo and be able to verbally sell a garment or idea to someone who normally might not give a shit about what you’re writing. Calling colors by their literal terms is uninteresting: writing that a dress is “mustard” is vile, “maroon” as a word is so overdone, and nobody really knows how to spell "fuchsia" without googling it (I'm gong to start pronouncing it "fuck-sia"). But a “jewel tone”? Now that sounds way more luxurious and whoever began using that phrase first in correlation with fashion is a freaking genius. Nobody gives a rat’s ass about a show that featured a “blue dress.” Screw that! That sounds like something for poor people! But if you tell them about a show that featured a jewel-toned sapphire dress, chicks are going to be clawing at their computer screens and frantically clicking “Read More.” Take the designs from this past season for instance. Think about their literal colors, now think about them in terms of emeralds, rubies, and amethyst jewel tones. Your flowery use of the English language just scored your bloggin’ ass a seat at a bunch of shows next season.
K is for "Air Kissing"
What is it with French and Italian people always wanting to air kiss you on the face? No matter if you’re a complete stranger or not, they want to get your oily sweaty cheek pressed up against their cakey makeuped face, and they want you to pretend to be happy about it—and twice, once on each side! God forbid you even try to get off by only kissing one cheek, they won’t let you go. They make you do the other side or they give you some offended look like you just called their mother a whore or smacked them in the face. They even force their customs onto people they don’t even genuinely like—it’s such an invasion of personal space. Listen, it’s cute and all that you wanna get up in my face and act like we’re besties even though we just met, but this is AMERICA. A limp-dick handshake will do, we work in fashion—we’re just going to all turn around and talk shit on each other in a second anyway, so let’s not put too much effort into this.