I feel a little embarrassed to admit that I follow fashion as closely as I follow science, checking in on The Sartorialist every morning, and subscribing to Vogue most of my adult life. However, it’s all eye candy for me. I don’t spend four figures on clothes and won’t wear high heels. Mostly, I am a voyeur. A fashion troll, as it were.
I can’t remember in all these years when I’ve seen a photo or video of a female model walking down a runway with her feet more than four inches apart. The models are gazelles, wraiths, seemingly unhuman creatures who have no more similarity to me than a mitochondria does to a chloroplast. I am clearly one kind of woman and they are another.
Then came Rick Owens’ Spring 2014 show which knocked Paris on its well-designed derriere. Instead of showing his austere, minimalist clothes on chignon-coiffed austere, minimalist models, the designer recruited step teams from American Black sororities to walk his runway. Suddenly the clothes look wearable, moveable, and do-able. Watch it through and dance out with them at the end. (And don’t miss Bill Cunningham’s smile at about 6:15). This is how women should be represented. Being female shouldn’t look pale, wane, tortured; it should look fierce.
Just for contrast, there’s this: