Julien Macdonald
REVIEW
COMPLETE COLLECTION
LONDON, February 19, 2001
By
With his gold cursive initials boldly hung over red curtains in the nouveau-posh party salon of London's Le Meridien Grosvenor House Hotel, Julien Macdonald let loose an unabashed display of fashion excess at its best, or worst, depending on one's point of view.There's absolutely nothing subtle about Macdonald's rich-bitch aesthetic: Picture an avalanche of massive furs, leopard-printed, sexed-up vamp dresses with S&M caps, dominatrix-inspired leather suits, sky-high diamond heels and sequined blazers that would make Ivana Trump look positively frumpy. As if to drive his point home, Macdonald also showed lavishly embroidered matador suits and a series of barely-there lingerie gowns that could've been plucked from a racier version of the Victoria's Secret catalog.
Did it work? Absolutely. Macdonald's clothes are clearly not for everyone (Pamela Anderson and Miss Venezuela come to mind as potential customers), but the over-the-top performance was a jolt of pure fun.
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