Kendrick Lamar may have crowned himself the ‘King of New York’, but it’s Alexander Wang who runs this town. (I mean, he uprooted the entire fashion dynasty to Brooklyn, on a snowy Saturday night, just to see his show). Both trailblazers have blasted through their industries with little more than the motto: be so good they can’t ignore you. Kendrick’s verses are mind-blowing; Alexander Wang is a fashion genius. They’re both too good to be ignored.
I know, my readers have all-too-good a memory and many of you will remember the time when I never fell in love with Alexander Wang. He was too sporty, too superficial, too sweatshop manufactured for my liking. His Rocco duffle was too heavy. I found too many flaws and refused to jump on the bandwagon. But, admittedly, I kept my eye on him.
He couldn’t be ignored. And after this season’s Brooklyn presentation that was both expressionist and technical, I can only bow down. He is the Fritz Lang of fashion, re-imagining a future where clothes turn colours when exposed to heat and shoes come with their own escutcheons. There were surprise moments of jacquard mountain landscapes on the hem of a windbreaker; they paralleled the ingenuity of Prada.
I feel like I want to look at this collection over and over again – not because it is unequivocally beautiful, which it’s not – but I just want to think about its creation day. Little red trim on a saddle bag and such. Where in Mr. Wang’s mind did this collection come from? And, can I go there?