San Francisco Fashion Week: Friday Night

We arrived just in time for the Christina Hurvis Couture show, which showcased the kind of dresses we think of as bride or bridesmaid – basically, it was the kind of collection Jessica McLintock lives to rip off. The icily beautiful (and glacially paced) show was rather oddly concluded with a lurching and contorted bride, not all that dissimilar from the kind you see in Halloween-season Haunted Houses, except without brandishing her errant groom’s severed head.

Krissy took a much kinder view of the collection, noting "Sultry French music set the perfect tone for her elegant wedding dresses constructed from white satin, organza and feathers, and striking evening gowns in color combinations such as bronze, red and fuschia."

Between this show and the next we got to listen to the first in a series of pretentious pronouncements from the fashion journalist behind us, who hates San Francisco, hates San Francisco Fashion week, and claims to "frequently write for the New York Times." It’s been a while since that was something about which to brag, ma’am.

Next up was oda’s debut collection, Bedouin Princesses. Yes, we know. When we hear the phrase "wearable art" we reach of our revolver, but this collection was the best and most innovative one we saw all week. The models' quick breeze up and down the runway was hardly enough time to take in all the handiwork that went into each piece. The pin tucks, quilting, ruffles, ruching and tiny feathers that adorned each garment demonstrated the care that went into the design and construction. The designers utilized only a few shades of cream and baby blue for the entire collection, which kept the all the details from becoming overwhelming.

At that point, the writer lady statrted lecturing someone on what it means when clothing is "cut on the bias." We start eating tonight’s gift bag Clif Bar, a full-sized one this time around (now we KNOW it's Friday).

Saffron Rare Threads had our favorite music of the night, tracks that would have been right at home on one of our favorite TV shows, "Showbiz India". The eastern influence extended to the rich colors and iridescent accents (our favorite look was the iridescent, rolled up cuff on several outfits – we really liked this one a lot). This collection is the sort of thing you’d live in if you were in the upper levels of management at an ad or design agency, perhaps – classic, with only the slightest of twists. Nothing to write home about, but definitely fulfilling a specific (just not our) need.

Between this show and the final one, the writer got her claws into two hapless women sitting in her vague area. Now she’s lecturing them on how sh**ty SF Fashion week is, what a "horrible embarrassment" Wednesday’s show was, and that while the shows so far haven’t been much better she’ll lose credibility of she files a report that says "everything sucks", so she’s struggling to come up with a "best of." (Interesting, because it seems like your credibility might take a greater hit of you’re dishonest, but we are but humble bloggers). She also announced that this was her first San Francisco Fashion week and would probably be her last, to which we respond: good. We don’t like you, either.

Then it was time for the Levi’s show to start, and we’ll risk any remaining shreds of credibility we might have to announce to you that it sucked. Seriously. It was pitched as the work of their customizing team, but we left screaming "We could do that!" With some glue, a bedazzller, and some puffy paint we could have created a collection easily as "custom" as these. Cactus patches, dreamcatchers painted on leather appliques, painted wildflowers -- didn't the Southwestern look die in the late 90's? The jean jackets bedazzled with rhinestones were particularly egregious. Luckily the male models were a toothsome distraction from the questionable fashion. Very few of the pieces were truly creative, but there was a strapless denim column dress featuring a beltloops and a leather belt as the top trim, and a denim ballroom skirt and tuxedo style jacket with tails that didn’t bug us as much as the rest of the stuff.

After the show we headed over to the Levi’s party for a quick spin around the floor before heading off to our respective final destinations (Krissy: Jackpine Social Club and Eve: boyfriend, pets and TiVo). The party was the meatiest of markets, and we both wondered aloud about where these folks, many of whom paid 15 bucks to get in to get down at the Levi's flagship store on Post Street (not to mention the 7 bucks per teeny-tiny drink) came from. Beautiful women and handsome guys (though there has got to be something else going on in guy fashion besides the untucked shirt, jeans, and square toed loafers look, PLEASE) cast their eyes to and fro looking for that "perfect fit" (har). Once we realized we’d pay as much for one drink as we would for a box of the some wine at Target, we hit the bricks. Hey, that's how we roll.