If Jeremy Scott shows can be counted on for one thing, it's chaos. And much of it takes place even before the show starts. For one, they draw a mix of loudly-dressed personalities and legitimate celebrities that all send street style photographers, house photographers and actual paparazzi into a frenzy both in and out of the show venue.
I had the privilege of sitting directly behind the main row of celebrities this season (Jonas Brothers, Nicki Minaj, Paris and Nicki Hilton; A$AP Rocky sat across the runway) and each one caused his or her own photographer and bodyguard frenzy, replete with PRs yelling at them to "get your shot and clear the runway!"). Meanwhile, crazily-dressed fans are running around, stealing seats left and right. And the show starts at least 40 minutes late due to the aforementioned distractions.
I could whine about how all the craziness, caused by people who don't actually have to be there, makes it harder for me to my job; but really, even when someone's in my seat (which has happened just about every season), I'm not that mad, because it's all part of what makes Jeremy Scott shows so entertaining.
And then the clothes come out: Rather than with music, the show began with the long beep of a technical difficulty message you might get while watching TV a long time ago, before things went digital. The first few looks mimicked those rainbow color lines, in sexed up '60s silhouettes. Fifties-meets-'60s seemed to be the general vibe Scott was going for, or at least underlined the "Teenagers from Mars" theme, as male and female models (in '60s bouffant wigs) trotted out to songs like "Lollipop" and "My Boyfriend's Back." Though the actual clothes were far more risqué than anything we could have gotten away with back then. There were revealing leather bustier tops paired with tight, short, high-waisted skirts; brightly colored mesh dresses with nothing underneath; and lots of tight, bondage-y, patent leather situations. All styled to streetwise perfection by Carlyne Cerf de Dudzeele.
Some of the highlights were similarly body-con tops, skirts and jackets featuring abstract prints done in collaboration with artist Kenny Scharf, who rose to prominence alongside the likes of Basquiat and Keith Haring. We also loved, and kind of wanted a sweatshirt that read, fittingly, "I'm a Mess."
In a way, Jeremy Scott's shows are always a total mess--but only in the way they're supposed to be, ya know?