Next week, Opening Ceremony will put American designers aside in favor of featuring young Japanese designers whom owners Humerto Leon and Carol Lim discovered on their travels through Tokyo. [WWD]
Naomi Campbell‘s billionaire Russian boyfriend, Vladimir Doronin, bought her a $18.5 million penthouse in Brazil. [P6]
Tom Ford Read More
Good God, is it Fashion Week again already? However did this happen?
In today's salmon sheet:
New York Fashion Week is totally phat. Sorry, make that fat. As in: fat-obsessed.
The current international are-models-too-thin? brouhaha has turned the week into the world’s largest discussion forum for weight loss and related issues, a veritable fat summit. It’s fabulous! Finally, we fashion folk have an issue, something really meaty upon which to chew Read More
John Bartlett sent a crew of emaciated standard-issue trendy-haired models down the runway this morning to kick off fashion week in Bryant Park. No bears! No facial hair! And an incredibly generic collection, as well. Except: TERRORPANTS! What are they? Swim trunks? What length is that? Why? What are they for? It’s like Coney Island Read More
Midway through New York’s Olympus Fashion Week, it seems that no one cares any longer to tell fashion designers whether they’re right or horrendously wrong. Or is it that the press has realized that their fashion opinions just don’t matter in the American marketplace?
“It used to be,” said John Fairchild, the former rip-roaring publisher Read More
The neo-hippie movement, jump-started back in the 80′s by the announcement of the Harmonic Convergence–the beginning of the end of the world as we know it (I’m so sure!)–shows no signs of going away. In fact, it’s positively mushrooming, and every year new AbFabery is added to the mix. Last year, it was the infernal Read More
For God’s sake, buy yourself a pet. If your building won’t allow dogs, then get a ferret or a gerbil. Anything! Why? The fact is, we pet-owning New Yorkers (e.g., Joan Rivers) are weathering these post-catastrophe days better than you non–pet owners. “My Lulu and Veronica have kept me sane,” raved the evergreen Joan about Read More
Sept. 14. Dear Diary: C’est moi , Phyllis Stine. C’est moi . It’s nearly two months since I’ve written anything-sooo sorry. Y2K has come early here. I’m totally wiped out. A turmoil of churning nothingness. Flat waves between invisible shores. Help! Someone!
Still am a hullabaloo of unemployment, oy vey . Thank God for alimony Read More
Oscar de la Renta stood in his Garment District office on Monday, Feb. 8, surveying the pre-fashion-week chaos. A model in an elegant double-faced wool coat with naked legs and Manolo Blahnik heels strutted up to the designer. She stopped and pivoted slightly; a photographer snapped a portrait. Suddenly, the model’s face flushed and the Read More