From 3/29-5/5, Howard St will be heating up with the presence of Damir Doma SILENT pop-up shop. Demonstrating that ‘diffusion’ does not equal ‘diluted’, the collection has taken on a life of its own; featuring an incredible print of hand painted stripes (which is echoed onto the walls of the shop), flashes of lush green throughout, and textured cottons and linens which give form and substance Damir’s draped & pleated silhouettes.

“For this installation I offer the audience my inner eye, an invitation into my world. The space has been transformed into a white desert – a spiritual and silent place. An arid landscape is fused with the purity of blinding white. Travellers are lost in the sands, as they become the salt of the earth.” – Damir Doma

The shop is located at 22 D Howard Street / http://silent.paperrain.com

“This is the story of ten beautiful girls who died for fashion, and twice a year for each season they come back to life through their dreams”

That was the gist of the introduction that was read aloud to us in a dimly candle-lit room within the New York Public Library, filled with 10 coffins containing masked models suited in Thom Browne. Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” playing in the background. The show that followed truly felt as though we were transported into that dream. One by one the models entered, walking slowly as if time had come to a lull. The clothing itself was pure fantasy, each garment exaggerated in its own whimsical way; From pencil skirts with far too many buttons extending down to the model’s ankles, to abstracted jackets that barely echoed their traditional forms – completely recreating the human figure. There was one dress adorned with mirrors in a harlequin pattern that left a trail of reflections on the floor. There was a bittersweet element of the show as well, because remember – these are the dreams of girls who have died. The score switched to the “Ice Dance” theme from Edward Scissorhands and I began to notice the nostalgic elements of the clothing – shawls in the shapes of animals, soft spikes protruding from the suits like cartoon’esque distortions. As much as Thom Browne is known for his usage of fetish, this collection also touched on childlike innocence – the final model resembling how I would picture an imaginary queen of dinosaurs.

I left the show feeling touched, with an emotional connection to the performance. And isn’t that how we, as members of the fashion industry, should want to react to collections? It is easy to forget to dream in a business that favors formulaic runways and stale presentations – specifically in New York. All I can say, is thank goodness for Thom Browne.

When I think of Sally La Pointe‘s work, the first images that come to mind are sharp angles, severe cuts, and graphic silhouettes. For her FW12 collection she introduced an element of fluidity and movement that when paired with her more structured garments created a feeling of lightness. What I enjoyed the most was the usage of color and material – I could imagine the entire collection made from hard black fabrics (which would have been fabulous as well) but the decisions to replace black leather with brown, use a loose sequined fabric for a structured  jacket, and include the most divine shades of autumnal cranberry elevated this collection from something strictly on trend to a line with tangible longevity.

With the overflow of mostly unnecessary shows & presentations during New York Fashion Week, it was incredibly refreshing to view the very relevant and much needed collection of Alexandre Plokhov whose slim cuts and sharp layers touched upon dark androgeny while still maintaining a strong masculine presence.

I meant to post this back in October when I was actually in Paris going to the shows, but for some reason or another the ‘publish’ button was never pressed…but even as the fashion months seem to be creeping closer together (thanks to pre-seasons and such) this collection is still on the forefront of my mind. There was a nostalgic warmth and sense of pride that emanated from the garments. Part folklore, part gypsy, part warrior.

The second season of the Mugler revival brought slits, slashes and jutting shoulders. Violently swooping asymmetry, aggressive post-apocalyptic elegance.

What is left to say about a Rick Owens show? The designer has developed his own visual language to a point where his creations do not have to make sense within the general realm of fashion – his work simply coexists, and happily thrives on its own. The show began smoke emerging behind a “wall” of horizontal lights which illuminated the models in a flash as they passed through it. There was an intense beauty to that moment – an effect created by a simple gesture (walking through light), made possible by an endlessly complex set up. Perhaps a similar sentiment could be used in regards to Rick Owens’ clothing: From afar, his long silhouettes are stoic & column-like, but the addition of a fold along the neckline, the exaggerated lantern sleeves, and the effortless movement of his wrapped & draped dresses are anything but simple, technically complex without looking overworked.

And then there were the flashes of burnt orange looks, and silver shoes, creating energy within the black, white & grey collection. The final looks indulged the technical craftsmanship, collaging different tones & textiles together in the front and small rectangular cut outs in the back to form sharp graphic lines & shapes, completely disregarding any natural lines of the body, continuing in the tradition of Owens’ work to look at the human form in a different way.