Happiness is to be found when in pursuit of it, in the soothed expectation, on the way, not only upon the arrival. Accepting detours, just going the way, which is anyhow not this obvious to anyone.
Thomas Bettinelli

Happiness is just a hairflip away.
Chris Crocker


"The way the system works now, you see the clothes, within an hour or so they're online, the world sees them. They don't get to a store for six months. The next week, young celebrity girls are wearing them on red carpets. They're in every magazine. The customer is bored with those clothes by the time they get to the store. They're overexposed, you're tired of them, they've lost their freshness".
Tom Ford



Backstage at Moschino's combined mens- and womenswear show, Jeremy Scott was exasperated. Not because the collection was bad nor because of any in-the-moment snafus. He was, and will remain, mad as hell about our "global situation" -as he sees it, a Trump-tarred reality- and it was crystal clear in his temperament and on his runway. "My country is in the toilet. And when my country is in the toilet, the world is in the toilet", he stated. "We have to fight for everything we believe in. That's the expression I wanted to use". Galvanized, this was a strong outing from Mr Scott. Think : far less of the slapsticky and the camp, far more of the barbed, and prickling at times with oily black humor. Perhaps a nod to an old Moschino ad from 1993. The promo depicted a quadrant of visuals, one of which was a fresco painting overlaid with the words NO TO VIOLENCE! Similar frescoes reappeared in this collection, including on a fatigue suit and wartime rucksack worn by Jordan Barrett. Elsewhere, the imagery was covered with impassioned brush strokes, comparable in gist to redactions in declassified documents. That implied the end -or at least, the irreparable damage- of past convention. There were other nods to event horizon, like iridescent "countdown clock" motifs you could see donned by gay porn star Zdeněk Kania. A graphic opening series of Transformers battling in space was also in the mix, though this bit -and another consisting of all-over studded bric-à-brac on lapels and bérets, made with help from Judy Blame- were weak points in Mr Scott's phalanx. The best and most piercing pieces he showed were the relatively simplest. See camouflage trousers worn with a multi-colored marabou coat. The look was suggestive, and slyly very much do ask, do tell. Ditto an almost demure noir coat dress. Moschino in mourning ? Flak jackets and cargo pants -some with those aforementioned paint swaths, some with a military green rose design- were also forceful. Regardless of one's political affiliation, it was exciting to see a version of Jeremy Scott shed of silliness (okay, excluding the Transformer figures). In a season already rife with strife, this, admittedly, didn't cut too deep -how deep can Moschino go, really ?- but it did reveal a fire to the designer not often seen.

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