Okay. I get it. No one can find a job. The stock markets are the new black markets. The dollar is the new dime. We're in a recession depression. And now we're supposed to start dressing like it?
The latest in menswear from Milan has been BLEAK BLEAK BLEAK. Almost every single collection marched down the runway has been filled with sad stockbrokers, angry gangsters, hustlers living off their unemployment checks, and the occasional junkie.
My clicking at men.style.com rapidly grew frantic when I happened upon a desperately boring Costume National collection. Usually Capasa can pull something complex and gorgeous out of a somber black palette. There were a few interesting baggy pants, but the whole thing made me feel very...sad.
Things didn't get any better at Burberry either. Christopher Bailey usually says something new and exciting in his interpretation of the trench, but this season, it was...safe. The styling was spot on, and I must admit the enlarged classic Burberry print had a touch of something refreshing- but it was like eating a HALLS of medicine when it's cold outside. Your breath might not stink, but it's still cold outside and your nose is still running. Mr. Bailey frankly looked like he stopped having fun. I understand his higher ups were probably putting the pressure on him to make the clothes look saleable, as every design house seemed to be recessing back to their signature looks in the hopes of making some money this year.
But does that mean we all have to look like we just got out of prison? According to Alexander McQueen, the answer would probably be yes. This particular look seems more akin to just escaping a mid nineteenth century medical college to cut up young prostitutes. The McQueen Man has always had something of the acutely disturbed element about him, but this season, I have a feeling some of those front row editors were fearing for their lives.
I really really wanted to love the Gucci collection. Frida impressed me last fall with her fur loving rocker chic. But this season, I fell into a deeper depression when I saw her horrors skulk down the runway. The beginning of the show was all black and boring, and then when it exploded into a melange of shiny pants and scarves, I started to feel very nauseous. Now, everyone who knows me knows I love a good skinny pant with metallic accents. A jacket unbuttoned down to there to show off my tattooes. BUT THIS WAS BAD. DID SHE EVEN HAVE FITTINGS WITH THESE MODELS? She actually disproved the statement 'skinny people look good in everything' with her pants that hit all the wrong places, and the jackets that looked built for a junior high school Rockettes performance. Where has all the good Gucci gone?
The only collection that made me somberly smile was that from Missoni. The patchwork sweaters in red and blue made me want to save my money(money? what money?). The styling was perfect. The boys were cute. At least someone thinks that if you're going to be depressed, you might as well look good.