Fashion Weak

So New York's Mercedes Benz Fashion Week started last Friday, and I've thus far done a pretty bang-up job of avoiding all things fashiony. (Other than rsvp to the Alexander Wang afterparty and proceed not attend...saw the photos, though, and it looked kinda stinky.)

So cute. Couldn't you just go in for a sweaty little nibble?


I'm not above a little NYC pride when our fashion weeks roll around, even if this is technically a lean year for the biz, and I'm also technically still against the unforgivably conspicuous consumption of the entire spectacle. This year a couple open slots in the Atelier schedule means time for a free protein bar for all the hungry fashion assistants, and when else are you going to find time to go to the Perrier-Jouet VIP room and suck down a free magnum? Now THAT is my type of conspicuous consumption.

Another element of fashion week I find enthralling is Pantone's release of the "colors of the season," i.e. what you'll be seeing draped across the shoulders of hot young things come next Easter...if you live in a glamorous world that recycles their wardrobe every three months. It's a lot of work.




Personally, I've been too busy to hate on any of the shows yet, so in lieu of this, I'm gonna hate on Rose Dust, Pantone #14-1307. Like, seriously, NOBODY can wear that color. Maybe pair it with the Fuschia Red up there and we'll talk.