Well, I’d have loved to tell you what Bumble and bumble were up to backstage at Guy Laroche, but I can’t.
For some reason, they keep this show on lock down like it’s Marc Jacobs, or this season, Burberry. In March, Britt and I had valid backstage all-access passes with our names printed on them and the man in charge still kept trying to kick us out. Even when we sat down for the show – in our seats – he shot evil looks until the lights went down.
And I can’t, after all of that, even remember what last season’s collection looked like. But I do remember that someone from Vogue UK was in attendance. This time around, I was the only person from a big publication. And who the hell am I?
So when I did try to go backstage, Madame L’attachee de Presse would said no, I wasn’t allowed. But I was allowed, and I told her so. She said to try post-show.
I sat, and the same man from last season stared, and I thought, “Hey, at least the sand covered runway looks promising.”
And thank god, the collection was leaps and bounds better than the last. There were some serious high-points in the form of leather skirts and jackets and great tank dress with asymmetrical hems and draping in front, (low points came in the form of shimmery gowns and black and white gradient checkered dresses).
After the show, I asked Mme. L’Attachée de Presse if she was ready for me backstage, and was told I’d have to wait until the models were fully dressed (which never happens). So I said, “Maybe next season.”
—REBECCA SUHRAWARDI AUSTIN