Structural deconstruction in the form of hip pockets jut out like a Daniel Liebeskind facade at the mid-thigh, and abstract Tetris prints in metallic gold and silver suggest the influence of the digital age. Thick cables of knit scarves wrapped stiffly about the neck are as much an accessory for the sake of practicality as they are the completion of the aesthetic statement, countering the coldness with warmth.
Canada’s Project Runway winner presents a vision of the future that at moments appears sterile and robotic, while also anticipating technological advancement and the evolution of the female species.
Stirring like hydro wires downed in a storm, the air feels cold and crystallized. The blue sky reflects off of grey concrete in the wisp of exhaust. There is a no-man’s land here, between the tents housing the runways, now behind me, and the street. It appears that, aside from the journalists and spectators smoking cigarettes as they leer over shoulders towards the opening and closing door, that the remaining population of the city has retreated.
I unleash my media pass from my belt and close it away in my bag. I check my phone for messages; there are none. And then I begin walking, leaving this past week behind.
The sidewalk’s cement feels cold and hard underfoot. Pedestrians pass at a brisk pace, their thoughts distracted, their eyes looking ever upward to clouds cut by the corners of the tops of skyscrapers, forming like exhaled breath. They are thinking of getting home – to a significant other, to a solitary dinner in front of the television, to a future that has not yet arrived. They are dressed in skirts with black leggings and heels, skinny jeans and hi-top sneakers, long coats over thin bodies, sunglasses over wide faces, wool scarves and leather gloves, sleek suits, floral dresses, all manner and occupation. I am walking west, into the sun fading, leaving copper glint on streetcar tracks, and I am one of them.
Images courtesy of the Fashion Spot forums.