Tuesday, February 12, 2013

I get you into a presentation -- how lucky for you

Retraction: I have been waaaaay too hard on Alon.  The fashion world is a cold and bitchy place, and takes itself really seriously. What would you do?  Make fun of it, of course.  But I'm just messing with our man Alon -- I dig his sense of drama, his vision, the sweat of his creative brow and the godawful toll an event like this must take on one's liver.  To Alon and his frozen jewels!

Don't be silly -- it's a presentation, not a show. Mr Ed coulda gotten in.  I had gained admittance to the temporary structure Mercedes Benz builds out of used air bags by saying I was there for Moan-eek Loo-ee-ay, and was taking a load off in the product sampling and air kissing area.  My, it was nice and loud with maybe 3,762 people competing for attention by way of fake Louboutins and other big costume boobs stuff. I was sporting completely authentic eye bags, a mullet skirt by Cos and lumberjack boots. Inspired by frostbite. Suddenly, a thin and earnest fashion vassal, thus fashal,  appeared before me and pressed some collateral materials into my hand, fairly begging me to attend a presentation that was happening Right Now.  Presentations are shows for beginning designers.  When you don't know who the hell they are, like Alon Livne.  His mother is going to be super pissed off I said that. I thought I'd go and give Alon one more frail body, but as you can see, I would not have been missed.  Those photos should be switched around because the second one shows my initial impression of girls forced, no doubt at gunpoint, to wear android swim caps on their heads, and the first one shows how I then effectively shoved through the crowd to document the nudity abuse.

According to Alon's press materials, he is located at the epicenter of Tel Aviv glitterati, one blinged out oy vey. This collection was inspired by the "beautifully bleak post-apocalyptic world as described in the writings of British author J.G. Ballard."  Clearly Alon has never been to Brainerd, which I think is well-known as the epicenter of beautifully bleak post-apocalysm.  Alon went on to say his mannequins are beautifully frozen jewels hung between... do you, like me, feel like Alon wrote this while realizing for the first time that NYC is a cold cold place for jewels. And other vulnerable appendages.

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