I discovered, while attempting to make a hotel reservation in Paris for the first week in October, that fashion week was upon us. Feeling tres chic, I surveyed the Paris Spring 2008 fashions in the International Herald Tribune while lounging on the veranda of our hotel in Provence. Sadly, I wasn't wearing a simple yet absurdly expensive little outfit and smoking tiny cigarettes at the time, but we take such moments as they come.
And what do we have to admire on the fashion front?:
1) Anorexia chic remains strong, as models subsist on cigarettes, vicodin, and a drug used to drop weight in racehorses. The runways are full of interchangeable Eastern Europeans tottering from one city to the next. Presumably, this trend will finally turn around when, as one commenter put it, the models are no longer able to stand up on their stick legs and must be wheeled on stage during shows. Until then, we will have to accept the protruding shoulder blade as the new erotic zone.
2) Many shows felt gimmicky and tired, with even Chanel showing demin, stars and stripes, and "rehab" ankle booties. I'm not going to be buying these clothes, or even the accessories (where the real money comes in), so my opinion counts for nothing, but when designers put out shallow collections and attempt to justify it by saying that they were inspired by "exploring the current celebrity culture," or whatever, I'm not going along.
3) The overall signal-to-noise may be low, but some designers will continue to delight.
