Gareth Pugh Spring/Summer 2016 Ready to Wear Collection

Posted Sep 24, 2015

Gareth Pugh transforms the runway into the Streets of Soho, as his genius brings to life the early days of London. In one of the most poignant shows committed to stage, currency of creation is captured in coins lining the catwalk. To simultaneously step back and see forward, that is the mark of true genius. Leigh Bowery’s unique anti-establishment artistry flowed through the show with a neo-punk stamp that spoke to tomorrow. The art of execution seen in the exquisite madness of the extreme. Makeup Artist, Val Garland, transforms the scene with wild imagery that pays homage to the counter-culture lifestyle. Burgeoning beauty waits to be as a cacophony of face coverings invite us to see. Gareth summons us to submerge ourselves in the history of decadence while gorging on the promise of a new day. A nod to the art of enticement, this show is designed to make us a bit mad. While some may see this as a straight forward trip to the 70’s, I envision it a play on progression. Garland echos the enticement of the Blitz Club, by enthralling us with a cradle of cosmetic conception. Vibrant eyes steal the show, as a swath of blue blazes across the lids. Modernity is made into a masque of mayhem for one of the most forward faces we’ve seen on stage. Shooting a diagonal line straight up, black lands the first strike of attack, only to be upstaged by the brow above. High octane color screams to be seen with a raging, red lip that speaks twisted chic. While this may not be his usual fare these fashion’s found their footing. Dark is done in a different way as Pugh hits us hard with a delicious picture of the past. Deftly defiant with a childish edge, primary colors pop, as each outfit looks like a crayon straight from a box. The power of prose penetrates the page as images erupt in an amalgamation of the imagination.

Shiny pennies line the streets as avant-garde angels fly in sweeps. What’s on top was below, and what’s below is now what grows. I’ve walked many a catwalk, I’ve saunter many a stage, but to have my heart torn in tatters reminds me of the wreckage days. I am here… I am gone… I’m a sad, sad song. I’m a poet in a tree waiting for forever…anxiously. original prose – tanyajo

A Facial Portrait Painted Over Skin