F/W 2010 Part 2

At Louis Vuitton, Marc Jacobs once again brought back the pretty, this time steeped in elegant fifties-sixties nostalgia. The collection was like a dream--my six-year-old inclinations came rushing back at first sight of that Disney princess dress that showed near the end. The new length was again present here, given a lust-worthy new edge in the form of full leather skirts. (I will comment on this shitty postured emphasis on the "real woman's shape" when I talk about Prada).












I was a big fan of the kilts, but how great does Marc look here?

Proenza Schouler felt like an extension of their pre-fall collection, but it was also an evolution of the look. These boys just get it right every time.












I'm big-time crushing on them.

Erdem is quickly turning into one of my most anticipated Fashion Week shows. Just fantastic. And I really need those floral booties.












Rodarte shows are always like being transported to a different world, only this time, instead of being taken to a fierce Martian landscape, we were taken to an autumnal countryside just shy of reality. Not to be too romantic, the Mulleavy sisters raised the bar with glow-in-the-dark linings and heels. Utterly breathtaking.











I won't spend too many words on why I thought Prada was so disappointing. It wasn't that the collection was awful, because it certainly wasn't--although it was on the frumpy side. But this "real body" thing just pissed me off. First, I'm not really a fan of this having real women on the runways trend. Fashion is fantasy, and models are models because they are specifically that--models. I'm not advocating the rail-thin image that's been stalking the runways the past few years, because that is not a healthy ideal. But taking some Victoria's Secret models and calling them curvy and labelling it a throwback to the fifties and sixties bombshells is just insulting. They aren't that much bigger than the normal gaggle of sixteen-year-olds. A Victoria's Secret model does not a Brigitte Bardot make. She doesn't even come close.