Worn, Especially, by the Well-Dressed Survivor
The models were not exactly waif-like, but then again it was sometimes hard to tell if they were even hominid.
Like a procession of Pillsbury doughboys garbed in tarps, they trod the runway in a strange fashion parade of innovative outfits built for survival.
Some of it looked familiar, such as the conflagration couture, a 70-pound, moisture-resistant firefighting suit that can still swell up by 30 pounds when wet. Accessories included a ski mask-like flame-retardant hood under a classic pointy helmet and a self-contained breathing apparatus, good for 30 minutes of oxygen or the next fashion cycle, whichever comes first.
Another entry: a bright red inflatable survival suit that would make even Kate Moss look like a tomato. “This is what you wear when the boat is going down,” the announcer chirped. The suit allows wearers to float as if in a pool chair, although the designer failed to incorporate a drink holder.
This unorthodox display takes place here on Saturdays at 2 p.m. (through May 3) under the skylight of the hangar-like Exploratorium, a science museum within the Palace of Fine Arts in the Marina district. Titled “Second Skin, the Latest and Greatest in Protective Clothing,” the show could double as a casting call for a sci-fi or disaster flick, especially against a backdrop of children pushing buttons to make things flash, spin or explode. The clothing is part of a larger exhibit called “Boundaries” that explores the way we perceive borders between diverse environments.
Thus, models strut in protective gear. A Jell-O green haz mat (hazardous material) suit with battery-powered air-conditioning device is the perfect ensemble for calamity cleanup, from a light chemical spill to, God forbid, the apocalypse. A midnight-blue extreme-weather suit with splashes of international orange is worn by workers on ships or bridges. Recommended accouterment: a helicopter rescue vest.
The big news in accident apparel: Natural fabrics are out. Neoprene and polyester are hot. Hemlines are nonexistent. The toes of shoes tend to be steel. Colors are bold (lest the Coast Guard overlook you while bobbing at sea), and designs save lives (a vest for kayakers forces wearers to float face up). Virtually everything is flame retardant.
Not all the attire is so outre. A new generation of thin but tough materials is all but undetectable. The plastic breastplate hidden beneath a women’s nylon fencing garment, for example, and the molded polyurethane boxers that come between football players and their tights. A 20-layer Kevlar vest that can stop a .44 magnum bullet fits nicely under a police uniform, although drug agents favor a bulkier version, equally suitable for resisting the thrust of an ice pick or a .357 magnum slug.
And you don’t have to wait till Memorial Day to don white if you’re a beekeeper (the color helps the insects distinguish the master from a bear) or a technician who works on computer chips in a gamma ray-sterilized “bunny suit.”
For less sanitary work, like handling toxic chemicals, a powder-blue raiment with snappy matching gloves, shoe covers and hairnet is ideal. Cleaning instructions not included.
