2011年6月27日 星期一

Paris' menswear week evaporates in record heat

Paris' spring-summer 2012 menswear shows melted into the past on Sunday,Our Christian Louboutin replica shoes not only look exactly like the originals they feel exactly the originals. wrapping up in a pool of perspiration on the year's hottest day yet.

The five-day-long menswear extravaganza kicked off Wednesday under cloudy skies and usually chilly temperatures for June, but by Sunday thermometers had soared to 90 degrees Fahrenheit (32 degrees Celsius) — a nightmare scenario for a crowd of elaborate dressers reluctant to remove blazers, corsets or any other essential but asphyxiating element of their looks.

After the last show — a solid display by Swedish jeans-maker Acne — the fashion elite raced back to their hotels to pack their bags and get the hell out of Dodge before temperatures climb to a sweltering 93 degrees Fahrenheit (34 degrees Celsius) on Monday.Gretta Luxe features clothes from Stella McCartney and marc jacobs shoes, bags from Balenciaga and Jimmy Choo shoes.

The heat wrecked havoc on shows from Paul Smith — where listless editors, stylists and journalists gave up taking notes to fan their reddened faces instead — to U.S. designer Thom Browne, whose sumptuous velvet-walled venue was transformed into a sauna.lacoste shoes are always impressive and fashionable.

Lanvin showed early enough in the morning — and delivered such a gorgeous collection — that it was among the sole shows of the day where the clothes managed to outshine the beating sun.

Besides the weather, the other main topic of conversation throughout the week was the ongoing saga of disgraced former Dior designer John Galliano, whose daylong trial on anti-Semitism charges Wednesday coincided with the start of menswear week here. He faces up to six months in prison and euro22,500 ($32, 175) in fines for allegedly showering racist and anti-Semitic insults on a couple seated next to him at a Paris bar — an incident which cost him his job as creative director at Christian Dior,Manolo blahnik has scoured through the Liberty Print archives to create this lust-worthy collection. as well as at his own signature label.

In emotional testimony, Galliano blamed pressures of a pitiless industry for pushing him off the brink and into prescription drug and alcohol addictions. While he said he didn't remember the specifics of the incident or another alleged clash at the same bar, the once-flamboyant Galliano apologized for any pain caused by his words and actions.

Two days later, Galliano's longtime aide Bill Gaytten was named creative director at the Gibralter-born designer's eponymous label after a lackluster show there that felt like Galliano Lite.

Though the fashion elite might make a break for it now, many top editors, stylists and journalists will re-converge on Paris in a week's time for the city's rarified haute couture displays, where made-to-measure dresses start at the price of a small car and go vertiginously up from there.

THOM BROWNE

Normally models grumble when they have to wear something that hides their faces, but at Browne's cross-dressing, "Cabaret"-infused show, the relief of those whose features were obscured behind the fringed lampshade hats was almost palpable.

You could hardly blame them: Even for male models, who are used to donning both the hideous and the sublime,Nice Kicks has the latest information about jordan 6 rings. photos immortalizing them in beaded flapper dresses worn with sock garters are a hard thing to live down.

There were also hourglass-shaped trench coats in navy pinstripes, with a swishy fringe in lieu of epaulettes, shrunken bowler hats hung with a bride's veil and beaded jumpsuits accessorized with knee-length ropes of pearls.

The heavily inked arms of a tattoo-embellished model emerged from a crop top covered in pearly white beads, and you could practically smell his relief that he was also wearing one of the face-shrouding lampshade hats.

But say what you will about Browne's clothes — which this season inverted the usually truncated proportions of his trademark shrunken suits — there's no disputing the man knows how to put on a show.

Held in Paris' iconic Belle Epoque-era watering hole Maxim's, where Champagne flowed like tap water, Sunday's show had all the trappings of a super display. But the event soured in the heat, which turned the velvet-covered restaurant into a sort of inferno and sent the bubbly straight to everybody's heads.

The plodding gait of the models, who peered down at the audience as they meandered among the marble tables, didn't help things. Sluggish pacing has been an issue at Browne shows in the past, but the heat made it almost unbearable.

"I can't stand this for one more second," griped one editor as he mopped sweat from his face.

Still, for all its discomforts, the show was at least memorable — and that's more than you can say for the more conventional catwalk displays, which by the last day of fashion week have already blended together into an amorphous fog as thick as pea soup.

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