Scene 1: A runway in L.A.
Fashion shows are renowned for hangers-on, but Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, which wrapped up Friday in Culver City, is cultivating its own unique brand of self-promoters. James Goldstein is the original “fashion star,” as he calls himself. Clad always in custom-made leather suits and Crocodile Dundee hats, he roves the runways in New York, Milan, Paris and now L.A. as the owner of a John Lautner house that has been the location for many a fashion shoot.
Then there’s Esther Nash, a model-actress-designer, who hangs by the runway before shows start, hoping to be photographed, and never fails to work her way into a front-row seat.
A cross between Vogue’s Andre Leon Talley and Elton John, former pimp and future reality star Archbishop Don “Magic” Juan turned out for a show in a full-length white fur coat, rhinestone-studded sunglasses and a fistful of rings, drinking a cocktail out of a gold chalice. Stylists came in all stripes too, including Joe Exclusive (who says he “worked with Eve early in her career”) in retro floral pants, sheepskin boots and a waterspout hairdo.
“It’s turned into an L.A. nightclub,” said freelance fashion writer Elizabeth Snead. “The most popular venue is the bar.”
Despite the scene (or maybe because of it), Los Angeles Fashion Week picked up momentum Thursday when Rami Kashou presented one of the most polished, professional collections seen here in a long time. With Louis Verdad, Eduardo Lucero, Juan Carlos Obando and Kristopher Enuke of Oligo Tissew, he proved that the event at Smashbox Studios is worth a second look.
The Jerusalem-born Kashou employed cabaret chanteuse Morganne to open his show in a romantic red floral silk chiffon gown, slit high up the leg. But her smoldering rendition of “My Funny Valentine” might have been better suited to the sophisticated pieces that followed, namely the cotton voile “black rose” finale gown with pintucking down the front and a dramatic keyhole back.
The collection was dripping with screen-siren glamour on pieces such as a mango shiny cotton blouse with a high pleated collar that fanned out like the feathers of a peacock, and a grass-green bolero jacket, worn over an expertly cut black floral trumpet skirt. Dense ruffles formed a heart shape on the front of a black shell, worn over a midnight blue, high-waist palazzo pant. It was the type of show nobody wanted to end; even the photographers had the shivers.
After his campy presentation last season, Verdad played it straight for spring, with nautical suits and gowns with the pretty panache of Oscar de la Renta. He could have used an edit here and there, but there was more than enough to float a girl’s boat, including soft white crochet tops and flared skirts, and puff-sleeved Swiss dot blouses worn with pleated yoke pants.
Wisely, Verdad showed restraint, avoiding using too many details as he has in the past. A white poplin jacket with gold pinstripes had his signature pinched, puff shoulders, and two plackets that crossed and buttoned in front, while a navy stretch charmeuse sailor gown with a fishtail hem was simple yet chic, with a sweetheart neckline, a bow at the waist and subtle white piping.
Lucero focused on evening wear -- his strong point -- with a fluttery gown in blue, cream and brown tie-dyed silk charmeuse to make starlets swoon. He mined the ocean theme, studding the collar of an aqua silk wrap gown with mother-of-pearl buttons, and creating a unique ball skirt out of looped raffia. An ivory crochet gown was another standout, and Lucero’s take on the now-ubiquitous sequin trend was clever too -- he turned the fabric inside out, so that the dress sparkled from underneath.
Obando, who is 27 and has lived in L.A. for nearly a decade, had an auspicious debut with a collection of cocktail attire in jewel-tone stretch taffeta that was beautifully finished, even if it was reminiscent of the work of Narciso Rodriguez and Tom Ford’s Yves Saint Laurent. Dresses in simple white cotton came in body-conscious styles, anchored by bralike bustiers. A magenta bolero jacket had rounded shoulders, ruched sleeves and ruffle trim around the collar, and a turquoise pencil skirt was scored with seams that traced every feminine curve.
In his Oligo Tissew line, Enuke continued to exhibit his flair for edgy knitwear, offering chunky crochet cardigan sweaters in shades of apple green, periwinkle or peach, sexy camisoles with multiple shoulder straps that slid suggestively off the shoulders and featherweight dresses shaped by gathered spines, or with flared hems and a starburst of stitching across the back.
Elsewhere, the week was a blur of contemporary labels, some more runway-worthy than others. At Frankie B., one of the week’s most spontaneous moments occurred when the house went dark, John Lennon’s “Love” began playing, and showgoers broke into the post-millennial version of the lighter wave, using illuminated cellphones.
Embracing the “redneck Riviera” theme, swimwear designer Ashley Paige’s models sauntered down the runway in crocheted one-pieces, scooped out at the sides, and killer vintage cowboy boots with dangling charms.
Coco Kliks’ one-of-a-kind T-shirts were at the forefront of the L.A.-driven trend of individually customized designer clothes. Now she has left that behind for a more commercial collection of jackets, tops, pants and dresses. By avoiding bulky fabrics, she showed improvement in her second season. With cotton candy served at the door and popcorn boxes on each seat, the show was a whimsical romp, from a sundress in a hot air balloon print shaped by smocking around the hips, to a powder blue, vaguely Edwardian “prom suit” with lace insets here and there hinting at her customization roots.
Pegah Anvarian stood out from the pack of jersey girls, offering a romantic, 1920s take on the flapper dress, with short, softly draped tunics in pastel shades, sprinkled with coin-size paillettes. True Meaning, a new line from Marc Bohbot, husband of Bisou-Bisou designer Michelle Bohbot, provided an inexpensive take on the jacket-as-accessory, an important piece for spring, in silvery linen, sequin-dusted tweed or Crayola-bright boucle.
And David Cardona, on his own again after departing this summer from Italian label Cerutti, showed his softer side in a presentation at the Downtown Standard Hotel. Instead of the sharply cut leather suits and gowns that made Janet Jackson a loyal customer, he worked in fluid silks. Dresses, full skirts and blouson tops came in watercolor prints; one resembled a close-up of a Monarch butterfly wing. The look should resonate with an older (and wealthier) customer.
Those were the hits, but there were many more misses, and event organizers Fern Mallis and Davis Factor need to pare the week or refine the designer selection process so that runway offerings look less like the fodder of a bloated department store floor. As for the crowd, well, L.A. may not be the Big Top, but at least we have a circus.
