District L

This New York Fashion Week began like all of its predecessors – one day early. On Wednesday, February 8, District L welcomed in Fashion Week at 320 Studios with Mimi Plange and her collection of “Scarred Perfection.” Inspired by African tribal traditions of body modification, Plange’s presentation effectively emulated deliberate repetition with ruffles, pleats, and embellishments.

Thursday was the first official day of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week and District L kicked it off backstage with Irina Shabayeva. Before viewing her fiery-hot-icy-cool runway collection, we took a moment to snap photos of the pre-show preparation. After the show, we chatted with Irina and discussed the basis of her inspiration – life, death, rebirth, and evolution.

The following afternoon, Norman Ambrose presented his flawless answer to society’s unfortunate lack of innovative elegance. With feather details and glittering gowns, his 1970s vibe of decadence was the perfect setting to recapture irreverent sophistication.

Later that evening, Nick and I headed over to experience Sally LaPointe’s picture-perfect Polaroid-inspired runway collection. While we were Chelsea-bound, Madisen ventured to The Standard to view NOMIA in all of its sensually streamlined glory. We then met up to spend our Friday evening at Bedlam for NOMIA’s afterparty – drinking, dishing, and surveying the evening’s gaggle of PYTs.

Unfortunately, the sun returned a bit quicker than expected. When I realized morning had become a reality, I grabbed Saturday’s gear and rushed up to Lincoln Center for General Idea. The 9:00am runway show was inspired by the letter-M; but more specifically, “mountains” and “military.” Watching each male model emerge from the runway tent made my headache melt away like in an ice cap South America.

By 10:30, I wandered over to The Box for Binetti’s model presentation. The collection exhibited an effortless air of exotic affluence. I lingered in this luxury fashion safari for awhile before walking right into a Betsey Johnson interview. As I watched her animated facial expressions, I dialed up my P.I.C., “Get the hell over here. You’re missing EVERYTHING.”

After Nick arrived uptown, we decided it was time for brunch. We green-eggs-and-glammed it at a nearby haunt while assembling our coverage from the morning prior. Once we enjoyed a solid hour of bottomless champagne, we sauntered back to Lincoln Center for Vivienne Tam and Mik Cire.

While we remained uptown, Madisen journeyed over to Philip-Lorca diCorcia’s book signing for Eleven. The event, which was held at Chelsea’s David Zwirner Gallery, showcased diCorcia’s photographic portfolio with W magazine.

Around 6:30pm, Nick and I entered Maisonette 1977’s dream sequence. Jane Ibrahim’s lucid visions transported us to an unpredictable, volatile urban-utopia. After deciding that Maisonette 1977 was a top choice for FW11, we closed the day of shows with Toni Francesc. That night, we celebrated Mik Cire’s fantastic collection at his Hudson Terrace after-party.

Sunday morning began as Sunday mornings usually do – brunch. When we finished our bellinis, we stopped at OAK for a pre-show purchase and then trekked back over to The Standard. After killing some time on the 18^th floor, we headed downstairs to enjoy Bensoni’s Gothic Wedding Vignette.

We finished off the weekend with Zang Toi’s Sunday night show in The Studio, which was an undeniable crowd pleaser. As the cheering faded, we headed back downtown to prepare for the last four days of the season.

My Monday line-up started with MARTINmartin at the Audi forum, while Madisen and Rachel made their way up to Guishem. After enjoying a collection of androgyny, destruction, and reincarnation, I rushed over to Studio 580 for friend-and-favorite, Lois Eastlund.

Tuesday morning began bright-and-early with a presentation by Trias. As soon as we finished adoring Joaquin Trias and his personal definition of luxury, we traveled back downtown to The Park for delicious cocktails and bites. Such nourishment led our revitalized bodies to the Chelsea Art Museum for Nico Lena’s debut event. The event’s reception brought quite the crowd – and yes, that crowd did include Dustin Diamond.

Our second stop of the evening was Lincoln Center. After enjoying a glass of Kim Crawford, we made our way into Tibi’s 90s-infused collection.

Day 7 of Fashion Week began with a frantic search for someone to apply my false lashes. Once I achieved such a task, we headed over to The Standard for the strong and silent boys of Rochambeau. About 50 photographs later, we ventured up to Allegri’s cocktail party and presentation in Lincoln Center’s courtyard. We enjoyed the perfect combination of models with mannequins while sipping wine and chatting with emerging designer, Loris Diran.

Post-chat, we darted backstage to get an inside peak at Anna Sui. As models were preparing for their walk of folklore and fantasy, we snapped a few photos of the hectic scene. Of course, I had to bolt before Sui even started to make it to Milk Studios in time for The Blonds. The flaxen-haired duo presented an unforgettable drag-and-dragon show, daring us to even try to find another show more outrageous. While we watched two dancing dragons galloping down the runway, Rachel and Madisen attended Odd Molly’s model presentation in The Box at Lincoln Center.

We ended our Fashion Week follies at the Three Year Anniversary of Pinstripe Magazine on 93 Grand. As we toasted our glasses of Star Vodka in the Buckler Store basement, we mused, “So, what do we have in mind for next season…?”

Post by Amanda LaMela

As the last designer bowed out after her finale on Friday, the DL darlings took that cue to celebrate. Seconds after finishing up our final words for Sally LaPointe’s coverage, Nick, Madisen, and I wandered over to Bedlam for the Nomia afterparty. While enjoying our fair share of vodka sodas, we admired taxidermy decor, shared photos from our shows, and literally stumbled into Alan Cumming.

Needless to say, making it to General Idea the following morning was not easy – but it happened. The menswear collection was inspired by the letter-M, from the consonant’s shape to the words “mountain” and “military.”

After camping out in the Studio, I headed over to Binetti’s presentation in The Box. The first phrases jotted down in my pad were “foreign opulence” and “luxury safari.” And before you even ask: Yes, I would wear an ostrich-fringe silk-layered dress while hunting a tiger at the Ivory Lodge. Or maybe a beaded caftan.

Thirty-six photos later, I ambled out of The Box to grab yet another life-saving Starbucks. Betsey Johnson was holding a very animated interview a few feet away. At this point, I knew a phone call was necessary, “Nick, wake the hell up. You’re missing shows. And the many faces of Betsey.”

Post by Amanda LaMela

Today is Tuesday, but we are still feeling the ache from weekend separation pains. There is nothing like waking up without an alarm and heading to brunch for bottomless mimosas at 2pm, hunting around for designer mesh at the Gilt Warehouse Sale and stomping around the East Village late at night in faux fur.

The weekend began at White Noise for “The Wild Ones” party. Hosted by Samuel Valentine, the party attracted the most eclectic, irreverent crowd found south of 14^th Street. Every Friday, the wild ones of Lower Manhattan are lured to this quasi-hidden location with nostalgic music, glamrock décor and about a half-a-dozen photographers.

Saturday arrived in the blink of an eye. Nicolas spent the better part of his day revisiting the long-lost Altman building for the Gilt Warehouse Sale. While he sifted through rare, discounted designer merchandise amongst cocktails and Vita Coco, I spent the morning shopping around the West Village. But when the January doldrums rendered regular retail hopeless, I shared an afternoon of gluten-free goodness at two Lower East Side establishments, Pala and Babycakes.

The sun went down and it was time to plan the night’s festivities once more: Bedlam was the first stop on the itinerary. Anderson Cooper’s boyfriend, Benjamin Maisani, opened Bedlam in September 2010 and the bar has since welcomed bold-faces names like Matthew Broderick, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Alan Cumming. Full of large taxidermy projects, vintage anatomy graphs, and yellowed photo wallpaper, the bar also attracts an anonymous mix of stylish PYTs.

When Sunday morning rolled around, it was time to make the last make-or-break decision: Where to brunch?

Nicolas, Rachel, and I decided to venture away from the norm and head uptown to Zucchero E Pomodori. While the crowd was more “B&T state school sorority reunion” than “pre-fashion week urbanite,” the three of us wholeheartedly enjoyed our delicious dishes and unlimited mimosas. After our brunchtastic rendezvous, we made our way to Rachel’s abode to check out some of her newest projects.

To ease the pain of having our weekend ripped away like a sticky band-aid, I aimlessly sifted through Saturday’s neglected mail. And what do I find, but a certain unmistakable plexi-glass Fashion Week invite? Withdrawals, be gone: With Fashion Week just around the corner, we have no time to fret the hours between 9-and-5!

Post by Amanda LaMela