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December 3, 2005
Beauty Immobile
My friend (and costumer) David Quinn celebrated the one-year anniversary of his boutique with a showing of his Holiday collection at Location One.
Alas, I took no pictures but I hope he will have them on his site soon. The stuff was wonderful as usual; my favorite outfit was a trim fitted-bodice black top with a gold cobweb overshirt topping a light skirt gathered in custardy swirls. I also loved an over the top coat of ostrich feathers dyed in the colors of the collection (green, rust, white) and shot through with Lurex. An absolute show stopper, but you’d have to be 6’15” (or a pimp) to pull it off.
There’s often a stereotypical hatred borne out of jealousy assumed of gay men or drag queens for women. Debs has never been a body fascist and I think that’s because of his empathy with the dilemma of making feminine clothing look good on any body. He’s always included plus-sized models (this year the magnificent Dirty Martini). The outfit he sent Dirty out in was audacious, with a large train wrapped at the side in a bow that emphasized and celebrated her curves.
Even though Debs has always been committed to fashion for any body, there still was irony in the show. The models were squired by an entourage of black-clad men, mostly half naked. They included several talented dancers who have danced with Mark Morris, NYCB and though it ain’t in the same league, Dance as Ever. The “female” models had some men among the biological females, including the effervescent Shasta Cola in white laced top with poet sleeves and a black flapper skirt. Banu Ogan was dressed in a Victorian-inspired top that made her look like one of the Brontë sisters.
Many of the "female" models (female and otherwise) were as talented dancers as the men. But they did not dance; they couldn’t. Perched on five inch heels, they walked or had champagne brought to them by the men as they relaxed on a couch. High fashion turns you into a gorgeous, living statue. Even men’s suits do much the same thing, and much as I enjoy wearing them (all men look handsomer in suits) they’re as constraining socially as they are to mobility. I can’t bring myself to knit publicly when I’m wearing a suit; it seems as ridiculous to me as conducting business in a clown costume.
Posted by Leigh Witchel at December 3, 2005 11:44 PM
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