Fashion
French Fashion Week: Our One-Word Review
We could spend several thousand words discussing French Fashion Week.
We could analyze the Canadian contribution. The Spanish contribution. The self-appointed visionaries who apparently decided that clothing is no longer required to resemble clothing, that craftsmanship is optional, and that making a human being look ridiculous qualifies as creative genius.
We could name them.
We won't.
They have already received more publicity than their work deserves.
What was supposed to be a fashion week increasingly looked like a convention for people who desperately want attention and happen to own sewing machines.
So The Antigloss will save everyone some time.
No names.
No analysis.
No intellectual gymnastics about “challenging beauty standards,” “deconstructing the body,” or whatever fashionable excuse accompanies the next unwearable monstrosity down the runway.
Our review of French Fashion Week requires exactly one word:
# **SHIT.**