Last season, walking into Galliano, Britt and I were accosted by anti-fur protesters (neither one of us were wearing any), but yesterday I was accosted by manic fans trying to crash the show like it was Justin Timberlake’s last concert ever.
I hung out around post-Hermès since Galliano was in the same venue within the hour and watched, amazed, as girls embraced their inner Penny Lane, batting their eyelashes for photographers and security guards begging, pleading for entrance to get in the show. It was fascinating.
I tired before they did and snagged my spot at the end of a bench to get good shots, until of course the girls finally did get in and had nowhere to crash but the aisles until finally my sight was just plain blocked (so please excuse the pictures).
I did see enough to know the collection was beautiful. It was the 1920′s again, with a slight flapper feel. Galliano used sheer fabrics, gloves and dropped hemlines for his short cocktail dresses while his longer gowns felt almost like they’d come from the 1800s with nipped waistlines, a slight flare, short cap sleeves or scooped necklines.
In all it was a magical show, fully worth of the pandemonium that kicked it off.
—REBECCA SUHRAWARDI AUSTIN