Couture: Madame X and fetish wear

Okay blogsphere,

I am an ill young woman. I have not been blogging and the glorious Tor has been taking my load. The truth is that I am still ill but there is a time when one has to put aside one's debilitating conditions and mucus membrane disorders to talk loudly and openly about sequins.

I'm not missing couture, no sir, not for no one.

So, we've got the big guns: Dior, Gaultier, Armani Prive, Lacroix and the beloved Valentino. I'm not going to talk about the departure of the big V because he and his chiffon deserve a post all their own. Equally, I'm going to gloss over Armani, even though there were some glorious things on show, particularly his foray into geometric-shapes-plus-pleating. It was, surprisingly, one of the least stodgy collections around *cough* Givenchy *cough*.

Click to make large 'n' pretty, cuz Mr Armani likes it big:

Nope, I want to talk about the triumph of the Erdem collection and the failure (in my eyes) of the work at Dior.

Erdem first - what an awesome display of goth-itude. Truly, this collection was beautiful, youthful, some pieces conceivable as daywear and had all the fun of the gimp suit without the sweaty PVC crotch. I loved it:

I especially found the first look with its leather-queen/Victoriana duality. If Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady went to this sort of Ascot, I'm pretty sure she woulda got her face cut good. Excellent. The Alexander McQueen-y black gown with its lovely organic forms (read: twigs for lashing) sprouting from the bodice is gorgeous - beautiful and quite possibly evil. The onesie/haemophiliac gimp suit is genius. Love the softness of the chiffon bolero. I've covered up the finale wedding dress with Gary the Gimp, mostly because I enjoy him so much but also because the key to the whole outfit is that severe neck ruff. No bride will be biting her stitches on Erdem's watch, that's fo sure.

Dior, however was shocking. Now, I love Galliano as much as any fashion nerd but although his couture was undeniably lovely and beautifully constructed, it felt like so much revisited territory. Now, this was also my problem with Alexander McQueen's 'best of' S/S08 collection. I've already seen this boys - dream me a new dream. Galliano was way into his citrus brights and complex chinoserie AGAIN only this time he has additional reference points in John Singer Sargent's Madame X and in the lacquered updoes of Diana Vreeland's Vogue years.

(from L-R) Look at the difference between A/W 07 couture (little pic) and A/W 08 Dior (big pic). Not an inspiring leap - at least not for me. You can see Madame X giving good neckline inspiration for the sparkly blue gown. I dunno - I feel like when I look at this painting, the Dior dress looks all the more Las Vegas and not in a good way. I really like the final two gown - the cell membrane-y print, the fractured sun (Klimt = another big influence this season) but I don't feel that the collection ultimately coheres and I certainly don't feel that pit of stomach awe that Dior usually conjures. And that sucks.

However, I am obsessed with one factor - the hair.

Crazy anti-gravity Edwardian hair. Yes, Yes and Yes. It's 1.40am now but at 11pm, I felt the Dior spirit rush through me and dear god, I began to style. This was ill advised especially since I was knackered and in my scuzzy mismatched pyjamas. Still, the fashion magazines are all saying pyjamas are practically acceptable daywear now, right? Right? So I backcombed and ratted and hairsprayed until I thought my arm would fall off, et voila:

I just couldn't get the curve right. What's more pathetic is that it took AGES. Forgive me, I am a hair dunce and I deserved all I got. Apparently catwalk styling can't be achieved with an amateur with just Elnett, Boots own make-up and a dream.

If you'll excuse me, I have to get the mascara out of my eyebrows - it's starting to set.

Love,
Becky.