I’m going to be completely honest here, there’s not a lot you can show me in the mien of the ’60s that won’t leave me with a certain fatigue. Betsey Johnson‘s show last night was winsome in the sense that attendees were dolled up in full BJ regalia (poufy, candy-colored tulle dresses), but few things on the runway felt like important additions to the Betsey Johnson cannon. There were no fluttery, loooong, floral flared catsuits from last season or, like, whatever the new babydoll silhouette is. That said, I am partial to the vertical stripes shown both in her hosiery and this lean shocking-pink trouser suit where the waist is slung low for that throwback mod vibe.
What I did adore was this odd play on the pom beanie and the hoodie. This skintight black sweater with the pom-lined hood is fascinating. It’s like a monochromatic, non-Furry-cosplay-ish version of a SpiritHood , and I’m happy to say I’m a huge fan. Another thing I went bananas for is this heart-embroidered coat-dress situation. How much does the visual make you long for a young pre-Sarkozy Carla Bruni? Isn’t it just the spitting image? God, I loved her.
The music opened with the Beatles, a call that could not have been more apt, and the songs may have erred on the side of too on-the-nose except that right after the Aretha Franklin version of “Son of a Preacher Man” we were treated to 50 Cent‘s “If I Can’t,” (!!!!) a tune that reminded me unequivocally that I am SO ready to bump fif’s debut all over again because it’s incredible after a little distance. The show ended with a walk from Betsey’s daughter LuLu and granddaughter and of course, as with any Betsey Johnson finale, there was a parade from a troop of models and Betsey’s spectacular cartwheel. A tradition I will never tire of. Ever.