Whatwhatwhat goes on in designer Thom Browne‘s mind? Visions of kooky country club matrons from a slightly altered dimensional plane, for starters. The women wobbling elegantly down his poolside runway wore perfectly mad old-timey shower caps with matching painter smocks in hippie floral prints, and achingly fierce fish-shaped sunglasses. They carried fabric-covered, dachshund-shaped purses which need to be seen to be believed, and wore non-separate separates (which will only make sense when you see it up close). So much fabulosity, I think I need to lie down now. Watch it below.
Here is the full-length version:
Of course, I remember once having my eye on a men’s cricket suit from Thom that had a super-nutty ten-foot train coming off the blazer. I NEEDED it with a white hot burning in my loins. I asked the Barney’s salesman how much it was, fully intending to buy, no matter what the price. “Twenty-four,” he said. “Twenty four hundred? That’s fantastic!” I said brightly. If I shifted around some mutual funds, I could just about do it if I didn’t eat or pay rent for three months. “Of course not,” he sneered. “Twenty-four THOUSAND….”
And that was the end of my Thom Browne buy experience.