NY Ghost Fashion Week Recap

Our host is on the road again this week, so I’ve only time for a short little post.  As it turns out, though, NY Fashion Week was rather low-key this year, so I needn’t go on at length.  Here’s a brief glimpse at our fashion forays:

Wednesday, February 10:  We arrived at fashion week and walked the first of many red carpets into the event.  J insisted on taking his new teacup pig to the opening events, on a glitter leash, and I must say Earl Pink made quite the splash.  We’ve quite the reputation at this point for doing eccentric rich-people things, but with children and charm.  In fact, one blogger has dubbed us the First Family of Fashion.  I suppose one must concede to ridiculous titles where required.

Thursday, February 11: I walked for Herschel, whose line of suits this season truly soared.  All Edwardian, as per usual, but with a great deal of country flair this time in rich red tweeds and plaids.

Friday, February 12: Meetings.  All bloody day.  Marcus was approached by commercial developers from ghost Egypt. They’ve requested he open his second African store (the first being in Cape Town) and commissioned a few new Egyptian/Roman pieces from him.  Fleur and John saw to JS business interests in Europe.  I spent my afternoon with Danny networking with models and gauging interest for my services as a London-based runway coach (interest is high).  And Mira had tea with Oscar de la Renta, acting as the charming face of his line.  J spent the day with Lucas, vascillating between Marc and I, cradling Earl Pink (who also wears faerie wings), and being quite adorable.

I walked for Georgie in the early evening, and then went on a bar crawl with Richard and the cavalier crew to show off his line in lieu of a runway appearance.  The man never does anything formally when he can do things with foppery. Not that I’m complaining…

Saturday, February 13: For the first time ever, Mira and I were scheduled at near simultaneous runway shows, and on opposite sides of the fashion events.  Marcus and I fought for a different time to no avail.  So, we checked Mira into her event with Lucas and Fleur (and J, to hold her hand backstage).  Blinked across the city to begin our runway.  Blinked back for a hot second to see Mira’s opening walk (with her kitten, Cozy, on her shoulder).  Popped back over to finish our show.  Disappeared again to watch Mira’s final walk with all the fetching looks, leaving Danny and poor, puritan John to handle the first rush of post-JS show interviews.  And then finally settled in at our after party for cocktails and conversation, occasionally spiriting away to check on Mira and J, who were tucked beside Oscar and Fleur, respectively.  The children were so very good for everyone, but Marcus and I were both heartbroken at giving them up for the evening.  It might mean taking a less coveted runway time slot or stage, in the future, but we’re never going to finagle things this way again.

Sunday, February 14: Lunches, followed by our closing ceremonies.  Herschel won a very much deserved afterlifetime achievement award–he’s been designing suits for 100 years–and he was oh so shy and sweet as he accepted the accolade.  The man really is a darling.  And the Junius-Smith’s, having made out like bandits in the Spring and Fall of last year, happily cheered on our mates and well-respected acquaintances as they picked up the other awards.

And that’s about it!  Rather exhausting, but managed with success.  I am looking forward to the Fall where Marcus will debut his first haute-couture line along with his usual runway, where Fleur and I will put forward our women’s line, and where Marie shall be back on scene.  (She boycotts American events in accordance with her French Revolutionary experience.  Rather feels they should have sent a ship to aid her Queen.)

Our next big event?  Marc and I are celebrating our five-year wedding anniversary on March 19, and of course I’ll tell all about those plans in my  next post.  Fabulous to be sure.

 

 

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Got to See a Man about a Go-See

This last winter, one of my designers fell apart at the seams–no pun…some pun intended.

I try to keep six of them in my pocket, because I’ve determined that six is enough to keep me interested without stressing me beyond my ability to look and walk well for each.  I also try to take on jobs that allow me to stay at a consistent age and physique–as a ghost, I can shift at will as long as it’s within my realm of alively experience, or within an achievable range of new experiences as a ghost, but it does perturb the children, especially J.  And, finally, I try to take on jobs that allow me to dress for historical eras.  This might be a throwback to my time in the opera, or it might just be a personal quirk, but whatever the case, I bloody well love flouncing about in costumes from previous eras.

My current list of designers, then, fleshes out as such:

1. Marcus–JS Designs:  Of course, my husband’s line was my first sign.  I shall have to tell the story of our hiring at some point…it’s a tickler.  His clothes are angular, interested in natural materials (wood, ore, leather), and modern, although they are often inspired by his Roma and what he remembers of it.

2. Marie–Mode du Marie: Marie was my second sign. This was apparently something of a coup, although I didn’t realise it at the time, as awestruck and befuddled by everything as I was to begin.  She is the foremost designer of 18th century haute couteur and worked as an assistant to the primary dress designer of Marie Antoinette in life.  And now I traipse down the runway in her glittery creations, acting every part the courtier.  She recently collaborated with Marcus on a line of zoo animal inspired outfits.  She is also mad.  Just completely mad.  She calls her husband, “girafe.”  And she asked me at my interview to describe myself as if I were a hot air balloon.

3. Herschel–Zehr Anzuge:  Herschel signed me on my gentlemanly manner, which holds until I open my mouth and attempt to say any word starting with an “h”.  He makes suits primarily of the Edwardian era, and over the years I’ve come to front his line and print ads.  He’s a dear heart who fancies walks in nature over walks with companions.

4. David–Sliante:  David is adorable.  He’s this shy Irish bloke with an aversion to parties and shmoozing who knits all the sweaters for his line, pines after redheaded lasses, and finds the fact that I’ve gone and made him famous equal parts fantastic and frustrating.  His line is 40s/50s based.

5. Georgie–Regencies:  Georgie is posh, flippant, and something between a dandy and a Corinthian.  He found me in my second year of modelling and snatched me up before my contracts became…absurd.  I love walking for him, as he usually picks natural, wild, forlorn sorts of settings and encourages both Byronic attitude, as well as Byronic attendance–his audiences are overwraught, as are his partners of both sexes.  It’s all rather brilliant, haha.

So, now I find myself in the position of contracting a sixth designer.

This is a bit of a dilemma for a number of reasons.

First, I’m embarassed to say, I have to find someone who can afford me.  I don’t controul my own contracts yet–that happens next year, at which point I plan on taking on brand new designers for next to nothing with the intention of launching their lines.  But for now AMMA tells designers how much they must pay me, and it’s exorbitant and horrid.

Second, I have to find someone in whose line I “fit” as it were.  I need it to be a line in which I can believe, as well as a line in which I dress well.  And I also wish very much to work with other fun blokes who enjoy what they do but don’t take it too seriously.  The sorts who will go out for a beer after wrap and not fret the whole time over calories.

Just these two stipulations narrow my options, considerably.  In fact, I came up with five options:  Medieval, Renaissance, Cavalier, Victorian, or a second modern line.

The second modern line is right out.  I decided rather quickly that I’d rather Marc occupy that spot on his own.  Then I tossed out Victorian because even well tailored Victorian has a tendency toward frumpy, as Marcus discovered when he took in a number of my own jackets for daily wear.  I ruled out the Medieval after some debate because the clothes are just a bit shapeless, as well, and the blokes on the current line rather serious.

So that left Cavalier or Renaissance.  Both sets of models for these lines are deliciously hilarious and handsome, and the clothes are equally gorgeous.  So, I procured some looks from each and tried them on at home to see how Marcus responded, as I also like to look well for him.  He appreciated the Renaissance, but the Cavalier duds inspired a rather wolfish grin, and so that settled it.

https://veronica12aslvillegas.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/095.jpg?w=519&h=388

Me.

 

Nearly.

I had one further person with whom I had to clear the decision–Marc’s assistant designer and junior partner in JS Designs, John Smythe.

John, you see, is a Puritan.

https://i1.wp.com/www.kingsacademy.com/mhodges/04_American-Government/01_Colonial-Foundations/pictures/WIK_The-1st-Thanksgiving_Brownscombe.jpg

John.

 

I know what you might be thinking–but he works in fashion and with Marc of all people.  How does he handle the constant allusions to battle and sex and paganism and sexy pagan battles??

Well, it turns out that John is such a phenomenal craftsman and truly good person that Marc keeps it all toned down for his benefit.  And it also turns out that John is a rather progressive Puritan–he still uses antiquated speech and dresses quite simply (loose white shirts, khaki capris with lots of hooks for tools, and tall boots) but he also enjoys seeing his visions play out on the runway, giving away the money his leather-work brings in, and living in some comfort with his husband, Benjamin, also a Puritan.  I’ve also heard him drop the F-bomb.  Granted it flew out of his mouth when he was nearly hit by a car, and he submitted to a week of penance over the whole deal, but he still said it.

Anyway, Puritans and Cavaliers are like water and oil, and I very much didn’t want to offend him with my choice, even if it is just a playful one. So, I went to ask him his permission.

He gave me a very tight lipped once over and said, “Do what you wilt.”  And then a bit more kindly he added, “Thou art a good man.  Clothing is but clothing, after all.”

I nodded and said, yes, it’s all just a bit of fun.

This concerned him.  Fun.  How suspicious.  So he added, “But as thou partake of fun, do be wary.  Thou shouldst take care not to let the Cavalier ways of mind and manners of person affect thee.  They are a lascivious lot.”

And I said, John, darling, the H.M.S. Lascivious set sail years ago.  Which got another tight-lipped once over with a bit of a wince thrown in, but he just shook his head and waved me off.  “Go and have thine…fun” he says.

(I desperately want to play “Cards Against Humanity” with him.)

In any case, now all that’s left is to sign with my new designer–Rrrrrrichard–and then it’ll be mustard coats and armoured breast plates and a vast number of boots.

Boots everywhere.

Quite looking forward to it.