so far, so white

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It’s only day three and already people are weary of new york fashion week. The tweets have been going like crazy, the shows have been running late and the parties have been going till the very early hours of the morning. A stressful environment for even the most hardy of fashionistas. I suppose because I'm behind my computer and not running amongst it (sniff, reminds me of funner times earlier this year when i was.. i miss new york), that I can talk of new york fashion week as sending off an air of freshness. As tweeters moan of blisters, sore ankles and running out of clothes, I am viewing these collections with something akin to a weight lifting off my shoulders. After the hint of minimal dressing and easy luxury last season it seems new york designers are taking a leaf out of THE seminal New york designer's book - Calvin Klein - to bring a breath of fresh air and the promise of softer, more simple times to come. Even though the relaxation and calm of summer may be long gone, New Yorkers are looking forward to a season of whiteness - purity, simplicity and freshness.

It's not all angels and fairytales, though. This white is a strong, sexy one, decked up with fluro utility belt and textured skin accents at Altuzarra, with metallic duct-tape like strips along the seams at Alexander Wang, with reckless-abandon ruffles along skirts at Thakoon. These are whites that are bright and sexy, they are as strong as the powersuits that business women usually favour, as flirty as the LPDs (little party dresses) that litter the string of hip clubs that characterise New York. It can be soft and sensual like at Prabal Gurung and Thakoon - simple long lines, flirty sheer materials and the kind of carefree sensuality of a Trianons Marie Antoinette quoting Rousseau and keeping chickens. Or, conversely, it can be the kind of strength and power that Ricardo Tisci has been forking out at Givenchy for the past dozen or so seasons - Altuzarra, his old apprentice, has clearly picked up a thing or two at the Givenchy atelier. Duchesse satin's high sheen and cut-away panels reveal the flash of toned thigh and a whip-lash collarbone. Alexander Wang's classic 80s hip young thing is translated into sleeveless denim vests, calf length kick-flare skirts, cropped fuzzy sweaters and parachute silk bomber jackets - all in a stark, blinding white. A clean palette, a clean sweep... everything is very, very clean.


I can't help but equate New York with white. Last time I was there I had my first snow. I woke up on the first day of New York fashion week and the city was covered in a blanket of fresh, white snow. The whole city was quiet and calm and even though it was bitterly cold It was also, in some small way, refreshing. After a hot Australian summer working 40 hour weeks it was, undeniably, refreshing, to stand on a snow-bound street in the middle of Brooklyn grinning madly at the sight of so much beauty. My best friend and I stuck out our tongues and caught snowflakes on their tips. She laughed at my incredulity as we drank chai lattes, me not taking my eyes off the window as snow whirled past. As the day rolled on and we were trapped on Manhattan island searching for a showroom off broadway the snow lost a bit of its novelty, but even through a bitter cold I still loved all that white. It's a sight you don't get in Australia - sure, we do a great orange and a fabulous blue, but white is not really our thing.

You think that New York is all about the hip blacks, the sporty greys, the sexy reds... But really, they're all white.


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