Mourning Glory

Lee Alexander McQueen was laid to rest today and his impossibly glamorous friends payed homage to his impossibly glamorous career by not resting on their funeral laurels.

Superwomen, Kate and Naomi, were suitably fierce...

Meanwhile Daphne Guiness was subtlety itself in this flowing McQueen cape and veil.

What better way to say farewell -- except maybe a black armadillo heel?

NYFW Fall 2010: Alexander Wang - Working, Girl

Alex Wang is giving grown-ass woman realness this season, that is if grown-ass women wear mid-riffs and mini-skirts. Which they clearly should.

Since New York is officially the North Pole, these camel capes will come in handy. That is if we'll be alive by the time they come out. Should the Northeast turn to ice, the bones will obviously go first. Then the gays since we don't do inclement weather. The lesbians will have to carry on.

Is it a camisole? Is it a powersuit? A camisuit? A powersole? A camiwersuit? I give up, but I'll take it.

Is that you, Aggy? Here I thought you were buried up to your wide-set hips in editorial work. Or dead. It's a season of comebacks!

Velvet continues to haunt my waking and now my sleeping hours. Wang's take doesn't make me want to kill myself, so I guess that's a start.

I'll ignore the velvet boots since the dresses are so cute. This time.

NYFW Fall 2010: Proenza Schouler - Smoking in the Girls' Room

AnA's aspirational boyfriends and occasional stalking targets, Jack and Lazaro, churned out a tough but flirty collection for us tough and flirty girls not afraid of a graphic jean or a thigh-high stocking.

I want these jeans and I want them now. Size 4 please...6...8. Don't look at me.



Meanwhile, I'll be hiding a switchblade beneath these hemlines during those late nights of turning it in and around town.

The neckline may say sweetheart, but the leather says street tart.

But every bad girl needs to feel pretty, and though some of their cocktail dresses were not as good as past seasons (adult diaper anyone?), these two made me want to put away the brass knuckles and just be held like a girl should...

If only Lazaro hadn't placed that damn restraining order against me.

I JUST WANT TO LOVE YOU!!!!

Hunch of the Day // The Prodigal Pose

Jourdan Dunn, she of the bun in the Dunn, will walk during Paris Fashion Week. It is the hoofer's first runway stomp since giving birth to her career-ruining aberration, er, child. Let's just hope these measurements are still accurate.

Running Akimbo

“John [Galliano] would stand on the runway and tell you a story about who you were. He’d say, ‘You’re a princess and you’ve just escaped from the castle and you’re running away from the wolves,’ and the wolves would be howling on the soundtrack, and he’d send you out, and he’d cry, ‘Run, Kate, Run!’”

--Kate Moss

You're a supermodel and you've just escaped rehab and you're running away from the paparazzi. Run, Kate, Run! Hit him with that $3000 bag! Pose while he's taking pictures of you attacking him! Steal his coke! RUN!

NYFW Fall 2010: Rodarte - Dia de las Mulleavys

Well, once again Rodarte delivered another pretty, well-crafted, high-concept show that I can only pretend to understand or care about.

I'm a traditionalist at heart. Put me in a corset, a tiered ball gown with an understated origami bow at the neck and I'm in fashion heaven.

Rodarte's clothes tell a story -- this time apparently about sleepwalking in Mexico, I dunno; tell me all about it Nicole Phelps -- but with those hefty Mulleavy girls, it's never just about the clothes.

They have a vision, they're making a statement and I respect/love that.

Would I wear it?
Well, maybe the Tarzhay versions.

NYFW Fall 2010: Ralph Lauren - Gypsies, Trannies and Sleeves

Romance was in the air, and probably some frankincense, at Ralph Lauren. The old girl took her love of preppy all-American wear and infused it with a largess of lace, a ruching of ruffles and a shot of Bohemian botox.

Meanwhile, Cecilia Mendez, I haven't seen you on a runway since the Stone Age. I'm glad to see you're still turning it.

The girls of AnA have never met a jodhpur they didn't like especially one paired with that adorable little fur on top.

This disturbing velvet trend continues but feels suitable amidst all the lace and floral prints. Good morning, Pagan Chic.

The dress on the right is just begging for a bone to don it at an awards show. If that lemon-face Zellweger wasn't perpetually suckling on Carolina Herrera's teet, I could see her in this.

I'd seriously be willing to kill Jac for this bolero. The slightest of reasons being that she insists on going by that one, unimaginative name.

Can I Take Your Order Akimbo // Subtlety

Welcome to Cafe Gaga. Party of You?

Our specials today are hair phones, razor sunglasses, Beyonce references and our house specialty Baked Ziti by Elton John.

We're trembling in the AnA loft - and not because our recently fired intern Soon Yi left the windows open last night -- in anticipation of Gaga's new video with Beyonce!

What a Diff'rence a Fey Makes

America's sweetheart, Tina Fey graces the cover of Vogue, looking windswept and skinny as a real actress.
Inside she triumphantly waves the flag of normalcy -- normal apparently being thin, smart, funny and cute.
Hmm...
There seems to be an obese, illiterate, conservative grading curve on what passes for normal these days.

NYFW Fall 2010: Marc Jacobs - A Grayer Shade of Stale

Usually everything Marc does I greet with open arms. With one chubby Brazilian exception. And much like that exception, this collection left me a little limp.

Nothing really stood out. Of course, there were some great pieces, including a fur bolero and the finale gowns.

But like me on a weekday afternoon post-lunch, the show lacked vision. Everything was nice, but not epic. Maybe Marc wasn't feeling particularly epic.
However, as he has proven time and time again, he's often on the forefront of a trend so maybe, as I am afraid to even consider, Marc's just on the mark.
What with the extreme heels, severe silhouettes and gag-worthy futurism of the last few seasons, and with no end to this couture-killing recession in plausible sight, perhaps this decade will mark a shift towards the subdued, the wearable and *cringe* the flat.

Well, whatever Mrs. Martone is saying, I'll be buried in my armadillo heels with a coffin designed to accommodate the one dramatic shoulder I plan to get murdered by a jealous ex-lover in.