Yesterday evening, my lovely cousin signed into facebook and told me — very simply — that she wasn't going to the Burberry show/after-party with this oh so handsome male model (totally drool-worthy, no joke!!). *Cue:green-eyed, suffocating gasp* I still can't decide if I'm teed off she refused a rendezvous with Mr. model,1 or the fact that this was Bur!berry! we're talking about!!
I've a reserved love-hate relationship for Burberry. It's complicated.2
Anyhow, not only were the front rows of the modish gleaming white tent taken hostage by young Brit VIPs natch (Emma Watson, Beckham — well she's 40 or so, no? sheesh you know I live for these people), but more importantly, Christopher Bailey managed, once again, to reinvent the trench; reaffirming the meaning of the latin word Prorsum ((ever) forward) in the brand's name. The famed trench was shorter — mini length! — in a myriad of metallic-tinged nudes and shiny sherbet pastels (not so crazy about). And it was all offered up in a most admirable openwork of draped/pleated fabrics through the garment body, which, in many instances, culminated in beautiful puckerings at the shoulders.
And the back views of the pieces... Love! love! because there's nothing worse than relegating one's aesthetics to the front of a piece only, especially when it can be replicated (to some extent) at the back. (It happens quite often for some odd reason, usu. having to do with costs I imagine!)
The mere short lengths of the trenches in glimmering stiff silks is super and terribly chic; and well, a beautifully-executed marketing maneuver that will ensure that Watson and friends can't wait for a piece of the action come spring. And me too!! I mean my love for barely-there-thigh-grazing shirts and dresses sans trousers (eeeck!) knows no bounds. Now I can experiment with chic trenches too!!
If the silver tinsel that rained from heaven to crown the show a success and the end of LFW (25th anniversary, hence the silver!) wasn't enough, the after-party at the brand's HQ set up mac computer stations for b.l.o.g.g.e.r.s. and writers — ummm... everyone! — to tweet and b.l.o.g. their views about the show. Hell yeah! The trend favouring b.l.o.g.g.e.r.s. (still hate that word!) in every industry continues on the upswing. I can only imagine the ingratiating frenzy. Another genius ploy... Thumbs up B Prorsum. But seriously, imagine the sheer serendipity of standing next to Carine Roitfeld, she's pretending to stare into space while looking sideways at your blog and silently confirming or revoking your pages in her mental rolodex! Yum! She'll make or break you in a few. Dear cousin that could have been you! Okay, you don't b.l.o.g! But, Mlle Roitfeld may have asked for your fbook page or something!
Yes, this tinsel trench (poor excuse for a pic, left) will be a recurring must-have silver in all fashion mags. Wicked.
How does this work in this sleeveless trench piece? Is it a wear-over-the-head kind of dress?? The thought isn't very sexy. I'd rather a secret network of folding closures. I still love it! Pics from Burberry and Style Runway
1. Pics of this man do him no justice. I want to lick chocolate sauce off his abs. I hate chocolate sauce.
2. Burberry, like Vuitton, Gucci... the brand everyone wants to have. The thing is I love plaid and I especially love Burberry plaid because it's beige base fabric gives it a decidedly lightness (in color, that is) that Ralph Lauren's ink blue or A. McQueen's red/black cannot have. It could be this same lightness in color, drawing attention to the wearer, that makes me so sad when I see what I imagine as wads of plaid on an individual — male or female — over a certain size. I'm sorry. NO. And actually, I'm almost certain I cannot look at a man wearing a Burberry plaid shirt.