Darlings, being, as I am, of the Glamorous Life I felt I had to go take in the exhibit at the dreadful de Young Museum here titled The Fashion World of Jean Paul Gaultier: From the Sidewalk to the Catwalk. I hoped to be interested, but not much more since the de Young has mounted shows that would have embarrassed the AV club at a small high school. In fact, it was astonishing and thrilling. There were several mannequins with their faces projected onto them that were eerily lifelike, including the one who seemed to actually be making eye contact with you.
And the dresses! Girleene! What fabulous creations, with astonishing details like lace made from sharkskin and a metal bustiere or a leopard skin created from thousands of tiny, tiny beads. Gorgeously beautiful, feminine, gauzy gowns with slyly witty references about fetish wear tucked in. Mermaid dresses. Lace bell bottoms for particular men. A lovely linen man’s suit printed on the back with a life size photo of naked male muscles and appliqued with the butt of a pair of cutoff levis and a red hanky in the pocket. We called it the Mullet Suit, business in the front and party in the back.
My only cavil was that it would have been even more wonderful to actually see some of the more trailing, swishy gowns paraded down the catwalk by a woman with hips narrower than her cheekbones, the way the were meant to be. You could tell what gorgeous motion they were built to display.
|And, of course, Madonna.|