Backstage, Siki told me, “My inspiration is very simple—Michael Jordan.” I giggled, but then I surveyed the scene, letting it all sink in. Surrounded by over a dozen male models in various states of undress in all burgundy and black with dewy faces and rosy cheeks, it started to make more sense.
The syllabus handed out during the presentation elaborated further. The collection, named LOGOS, was essentially an exploration of American branding through one of its ultimate icons.
Yeah, yeah, I get all that, but really? A Michael Jordan theme was not what I was expecting from the former architect, whose bio includes stints working with Karl Lagerfeld and designing for Helmut Lang.
I mean, this is the man who I associate with garish, ill-fitting suits and a brief flirtation with a Hitler mustache. While the syllabus provided—yup, they called it a syllabus, for Christ’s sake—was bookish and high-concept, yet the collection itself was actually sort of fun.
Here’s Siki and his fiancé designer, Abigail Lorick. This was immediately after I had broken the news to her that Whitney was dead. See, there they are, verifying the news on their iPhones. Yes, that’s a monkey fur vest under her overcoat. She’s pretty awesome.
The presentation was shown on the basketball court of a high school gymnasium and the backstage area was, adorably, the cafeteria. It was decorated for Valentine’s Day and had some pretty sweet anti-bullying posters sprinkled around the place.
Words cannot describe how excited I was to see Dolph Lundgren on the hairstylists’ reference sheet. Less exciting was the inclusion of the man who may just be Michael Jordan’s contemporary when it comes to being a walking human branding device, David Beckham. Then again, I doubt Beckham in his knickers will prove to be as timeless an image as the Air Jordan logo.
Since I was backstage, I felt I must include the obligatory shirtless male model shot. This also illustrates the one aspect of the collection I didn’t get—the aprons. They were included in 13 of the 20 looks that went down the runway. Alas, their purpose was not addressed in the syllabus.
This gigantic 20-year-old sported the final look, which was the most literal interpretation of the theme—sports as a concept instead of sportiness as a look.
Siki put the finishing touches on the models, and the line-up was ready to go. It’s always a treat to get a really unflattering candid of a model. It’s hard! Every time I pointed my camera at these guys, they’d immediately go all “Blue Steel” on me. Such pros.
Collins’ “In The Air Tonight” played in its entirety, followed by an awkward unmixed silence before leaping into a different random song. Josh Madden, you are a shitty DJ and no one cares that your brothers are in the Good Charlotte and that one of them gets to bang Nicole Richie.
Also, why were you the only DJ during all of fashion week that felt compelled to put a placard with his name on it in front of his set-up? I am embarrassed for you and didn’t even bother taking your picture.
You aren’t worth the space on my memory card and you almost ruined an excellent runway show by compelling two dudes in the front row to air drum to Phil Collins.
See?
This coat was probably my favorite piece in the entire collection. Look at those lines, those details kill me.
Upstairs in the gymnasium, the house was packed with design nerds, the more creative half of the fashion world, and a bunch of consistently attractive people who like clothes.
The looks were strong, the setting was fun, and everything was great except for one thing—Phil Collins’ “In The Air Tonight” played in its entirety followed by an awkward unmixed silence before leaping into a different random song.
Josh Madden, you are a shitty DJ and no one cares that your brothers are in the Good Charlotte and that one of them gets to bang Nicole Richie. Also, why were you the only DJ during all of fashion week that felt compelled to put a placard with his name on it in front of his set-up?
I am embarrassed for you and didn’t even bother taking your picture. You aren’t worth the space on my memory card and you almost ruined an excellent runway show by compelling two dudes in the front row to air drum to Phil Collins.
Back to the good stuff—the clothes. There was meant to be strong sense of movement and speed throughout the show, furthered by the models’ rigid swept back hair meant to resemble the winged helmet of Hermes and also one of David Beckham’s worst ever haircuts.
The loose-fitting garments were relaxed and fluid and the slim-cut items were double-vented so a guy can move around easily.
Once the show was over, mister-brother-of-a-celebrity-DJ quickly cleared out the crowd by playing Alice In Chains. Thanks again, bro. Nothing like leaving a great presentation with a bummer song ringing in your ears.
Vibe: Er, I think David Beckham is in.
Written by Beverly Hames
