Pier 57 is one of my favourite New York Fashion Week venues - and DIESEL BLACK GOLD's SS13 show flaunted its grungy interior to its full potential.
Pier 57 is one of my favourite New York Fashion Week venues. Of course, it was damn cold back in February, but this there's something beautifully eery and kind of terrifying when you're walking as close to the wall as possible to get backstage (in case a shredded leather clad model ambushes you), or watching a line of garment steamers whistle angrily neglected behind a band of eager dressers. Certainly, the high ceilings and bare walls somehow sharpen models' cheekbones and uniform backstage stares: it must get tiresome being impossibly beautiful.
Magdalena Frackowiack silently challenged every photographer in the pit to take her photo (and they did - from half her height); Joan Smalls remained glued to her touchscreen and looked off into far dark corners when DSLRs came up in her perfectly MAC-ed face; show star, Julia Nobis, was perhaps the only jovial one in sight, spending most of her chair time stealing the hair and makeup brushes from their respective wielders and blindly attempting to perform their intended tasks on the artists themselves. With five people working on her head region at one time, I found this to be reasonably amusing, though other photographers didn't find it pretty enough and left in search of more serious scenes to please their clients.
The collection itself was groundbreaking in my books. Every season, DIESEL BLACK GOLD strikes new chords of strong sports luxe (this time with skaters boys in mind) and masculinity without losing the elegance and poise of a woman. Everything between distressed and perforated leathers, bizarrely fringed heels and brilliant lace-up detail in every bodice and leg in sight - I know that every woman present could have seen themselves in at least three full looks, and every man present wished they were a woman so they could wear the same three looks... although I suppose Mick Jagger could roll with some of those jackets without too many questions asked. And Kanye could probably do a concert in some of those leather pants, then palm them off to Kimmy K once WHO magazine had forgotten about them.
I'm not sure you'll fully understand what I mean by real atmosphere without watching the video from backstage and front row - get to it. And may it inspire you to be taller, more severe, more badass, and like skater boys more this weekend.