Uniforms

Pretty much everything and everyone happened in the last two months. Like, people died and stuff. You know; Apple dude, Lybia dude, racing cars dude, 82 year old football league owner dude.. oh and just about dozens of campesinos assassined amidst the land conflict at the Aguán Valley in Honduras. But hey let's not get all serious and gloom here because if you do want to get all serious and gloom then you should head to my new Spanish blog I mean lighten up right? By the way a little something called Fashion Season happened!! Aren't you excited!! Isn't that awesome!! Not when you completely missed it!! Though I've been trying to catch up because something really gruesome would happen if I don't. I might get exiled to Nepal and be forced to build barracks out of dried rhino feces or something. TL;DR? Here, have some rhinos.

start shitting my lovelies

So I have once again missed my chance to become a 2.0 diva suprima fashionista bloggelebrity. It's too late, common consensuses have arisen; Raf Simons is our one and only saviour, (Miucca has done it once again)², Marc Jacobs was SO Prada, Celine OMGGTFOHWTS, Ackermann/Dries/Pugh so edgy omg, etc. So let's skip it all shall we? I do recommend following Lindsay Lohan's path through this Fashion Season because I think this time she might've even outdone herself and killed someone. Let's hope not. Anyways I came back from a trip this week to find that most of my clothes were rotting. I've been away for a long time and nobody threw them into the washing machine because my family members believe their arm would fall or something. In the end I saved them by offering naughty children to the Krampus and adding extra detergent but it got me thinking about what I would've done with no clothes. I guess I'd find a signature look to wear every single day and possibly every single night since my pjs were also on the verge of decomposing. What would this uniform be? Here's a look at two iconic fashionable uniforms starting with the aforementioned

Steve Jobs

So fucking minimal America futurista chic right? I love that after he died suddenly everyone knew who he was and claimed to adore him since milk came in cartons, had little apples tattooed, creepy haircuts, etc. I'm therefore surprised when it came out that Steve bought his mock turtlenecks at St.Croix because well, he didn't?

He got them from Issey Miyake -about whom I posted before- and honestly it's kind of a downer people thought this kind of tailoring is sold at some big luxury apparel? Also he was close friends with Miyake. Tsk, tsk, how very disappointing of you tecchies out there.

Bill Cunningham

Basic utilitarian NY sweeper jacket + battered pants and shoes. I mean who cares what you're wearing when shooting Anna Piaggi or Shail Upadhya anyway. I saw Bill Cunningham: New York a while ago and holyshit my life is dull. How about spending your Friday night with Andy Warhol at Carniege Hall watching your ballet dancer friend perform the dying swan? Bill did.

Pockets, endurance, a nice color. Extra points for using a bike as your sole mean of transportation while being the father of street style photography and basically the most important person on Earth.

And then there's black from head-to-toe cray crays like Grace or Alïa. Is Marc Jacobs still doing that embarrassing kilt thing? I might be stretching a leg too far here but I really don't want to touch uncle Terry or Lagerfeld territory. Except maybe for Halloween.

Jaime Eats World

Something good about the internet taking over my life -if there can be such a thing- is the people I've met. I’m not saying that the magician-type player that helped me increasing levels in a massive online game is my friend (I’m sorry kempachimaru you’re 13 years old), I mean real talented grown-up people I talk very frequently with including Tijuana-based designer Jaime Muro

spread in Caviar Izquierda magazine

My fondness of Jaime, aside from whatever our personal relationship might be, is due to several reasons. First, he creates garments by himself: he sketches, drapes, cuts patterns, sews, etc. None of this is easy, only the math in pattern-cutting books is beyond me. Although not a requirement for success –Gabrielle Chanel herself couldn’t sew, Tom Ford doesn't even sketch properly- this is technically challenging and the resulting craftsmanship is further loyal to the creator’s psyche.

However it is rather difficult to tell one fabric from another through the skype webcam so it wasn’t until fashion show TJ Trend last Saturday in Tijuana, México that I could really appreciate his most recent collection.

source: elaztika.com and this facebook page

Radical cuts, ethereal aesthetic, clean fabrics, rather not too body-conscious. By personal taste I tend to prefer this style over the glamorous sumptuous hour-glass one. Oh and the shirt on the left?  So obviously mine, with the holy help from the courier gods. If not just imagine me chasing it down to the soundtrack of Blondie’s “One Way of Another”... and speaking of soundtrack, here's an accurate musical interpretation of Jaime's pieces

I like it, in the way I like similar stuff like Gareth Pugh or Comme des Garçons. It’s a strong determined concept without the restriction of stereotypical beauty standards, those made for gray little people. I often get reminded of Jaime’s determination, whenever I see how fast he assembles a bustier on a mannequin or how easily discards a blouse he’s not totally convinced with. There’s only a way for someone who knows himself that well, and it's up.

The Pretty Accesory in the Ugly Dress

So far I've had a very conscious reluctance regarding the thing that people here in Honduras call fashion. It bores me so greatly how very few seem to understand that fashion properly interpreted means an idea wrapped around a body. Therefore no idea = no content, ergo nothing. The truly gruesome part is when these creators of nothingness attempt to divert us from it by repeatedly and loudly announcing the exact opposite -how remarkable they are and what a meaningful art they make. Those without a mind of their own follow blindly and praise without thinking.

The result is a ridiculous form of interaction where the so-called artist is encouraged to brag and the only acceptable response from the audience is a wide range of variations of the phrase "That's great!". This insincere reply is the negative reinforcement that keeps me on the verge of people not only from local fashion but also photography, art, music, theater, etc.

Someone who accepted the lack of infinite euphoria in my persona is Lutfi Janania, the designer who debuted at the Honduras fashion week last Saturday. Since I had no requirement to show a perma-grin, we became friends and eventually I helped him with his show. Lots of walk rehearsals, fabric, hairspray. Even blood. Well, almost, due to a certain Dominican lady who was getting rather territorial inside the tents backstage. Anyway about Lutfi's collection. It's undeniably cohesive, pretty much summing up his distinctive aesthetic as a styling editor at Estilo magazine:

source: ricardo-rivera.com  

Dressy, waist-focused, layered and earthy-colored. Also, being outside print allows room for freedom and experimentation which he took advantage of with a heterogeneous fabric selection

Source: Lookbook, shot by Ricardo Rivera, model Mariel Lagos

Rather than creating from scratch Lutfi's work involves a remarkably selective eye and flattering silhouette, plus the occasional ruffled/puffed sleeve that's very favoured among Honduran socialites. And favoured it was, indeed. The response was a collective embrace with much euphoria, and considering the stuff from other shows I think this was the most well-deserved one.

source: El Heraldo

After the show -and several weeks of penpaling- I met Fabi Pina, who has a really hyped blog around here. We let ourselves whine a lot, or perhaps she listened while I was whining a lot (Fabi if you're reading this I'm so sorry I put you through all my bickering) and so yeah it'd be lovely if I see her again.

To wrap it up, Lutfi's career as a designer started with the right step: An accurate and precise business card, which I'm sure will help define his niche in the microscosmos that Honduran fashion is.