February 13, 2011 New York
And why not? There will always be a constituency for these kinds of clothes—strapless leather minidresses, body-hugging jerseys, silk lamé button-downs, and bootleg trousers redolent of the Tom Ford days at Gucci. Va-va-voom, etc. Kiledjian stays just shy of vulgarity, and even when he veers close, well, what girl doesn't harbor a secret desire to slither into a dress like the designer's mesh minidress wrapped in peekaboo panels of leather? The fact that there are vanishingly few women with the body or the nerve to pull off that dress only makes the fantasy that much keener.
But what does the fantasy cost? That's a literal question, not a query demanded by feminist scruples. Kiledjian's clothes are going to be expensive. The materials and production here are high-quality; the details, assured. A very good shearling jacket with contrast suede details and zip-off sleeves earns its price, whatever that may be; so too, perhaps, does a crystal-dusted velvet turtleneck dress hemmed in fringe. In general, though, Kiledjian is still developing the originality of vision a steep price demands.