Shortly after Dom Streater’s unexpected but not undeserving Project Runway win, the programme’s latest ‘All Stars’ series is upon us. Greta remains in hibernation; Tom and Lorenzo, citing fatigue, have opted out of coverage. It falls to me then, I suppose, to talk about it for the moment.
‘Your first challenge starts right now’, contestants from past seasons were informed as things began, ‘and it features one of the biggest trends of the year; punk!’ Alyssa Milano, Heidi Klum’s less German counterpart for All Stars, deserves praise for delivering this line without a shred of irony. Punk isn’t punk, near-necessarily, if it’s a trend – mass producing its aesthetics for commercial gain perverts literally wholesale an intrinsically anarchist, anti-consumerist approach to art and fashion.
Project Runway in particular is everything punk isn’t: corporate, profit-oriented, concerned with ‘looking expensive’ over ‘looking cheap’. It prizes quality designs tailored expensively from costly fabrics, favouring ones its experts see ‘flying off the shelves’, offering luxury technology, gainful employment and thousands of dollars to its winners – emerging triumphant from the current series, we were told within an instant of the ‘punk’ task’s introduction, will mean $750,000 worth of rewards.
It’s a series, moreover, whose stylistic impulses are painfully mainstream. Runway punishes clothes in which its wispy models are found to look ‘fat’, which bear overtly sexual overtones or aren’t ‘age-appropriate’, or which appear the products of untrained, inexpert, do-it-yourself labour. How any well-received design it featured could conceivably be punk is hard to know. Guest judge Debbie Harry, as she perused the challenge’s results, noted how high-waisted most ensembles were, suggesting the preferred ‘hourglass figure’; you wouldn’t see it in such excess, almost certainly, on visiting a punk bar, and a collage of women’s footwear there, we can be sure, wouldn’t look like this.
The real challenge here was to approximate – actually, appropriate – punk in a catwalk-friendly way, drawing on its outer hallmarks while in keeping with the fashion industry’s particular ideals, eschewing any deep sense of counterculture. That’s a hard balance to strike, and no doubt a harder one to judge. How do you mark designs consistently with Project Runway‘s main criteria (flawless and expert execution, saleability, a veneer of wealth) while asking that they mimic a style deviant by definition from those aims?
Contestants’ work and comments on it, perhaps due to this paradox, both ended up all over the place. Even the top-ranked trio of outfits looked wildly different from each other.
Third season winner Jeffrey Sebelia‘s design was, true to his roots and to his credit, the only one that really looked punk. That’s why I might well have sent him home for it.
I see a real punk woman wearing this dress; I see her making it herself, and I watched a bona fide punk rocker cut it. It looks pulled together from found material, sewn in a cellar with a foot-powered machine or else by hand; it’s owner didn’t buy it, dons what she likes and doesn’t care about what’s in.
It does not look like a winning Project Runway dress.
The shoulders aren’t even; the peplum seems pointless, and pointlessly huge at that; it looks lumpy, formed from disobedient fabric which is probably one textile too many here. The leopard print lapels are similarly shapeless, and Jeffrey had to fight pre-catwalk to press them into serviceable shape; the organza skirt looks amateurish, added perhaps to cover up an error in the black skirt underneath, and doesn’t seem to go with them or the black leather of the jacket. Though it doesn’t show up in this image, its finish looked rough and ready on the programme, nowhere more than in its messy-looking hems.
It’s a great dress by punk standards, but a misfire by Project Runway standards (at least, those which it usually applies). Crucially, the fact it sails so far into authentic do-it-yourself aesthetics means it fails to tread the fine line between punk and catwalk which this challenge demanded.
Seth Aaron Henderson, winner of season seven, had the opposite stumbling block. I see some punk here – the tartan and the braces in particular – but it feels obvious to the point of superficial gimmickry, and the rest has serious problems for me.
Coupled with the belts’ chunkiness and the deeply un-punk PVC-esque sheen of the jacket’s fabric, the fact we’d see bare breasts on its removal drives things overtly into sex shop territory. There’s nothing wrong with this, particularly – plenty of well-made fashion hints at kink – but since clothes like the ones evoked here (fitted, rubber, explicitly sexual in function) are found mainly in commercialised kink, on sale in red light districts, and not worn day-to-day, it teeters into looking costume-like.
The gothic horror style of the sleeves, straitjacket-like, and their red, Dracula-style lining doesn’t help – and costume qua costume, especially the kind one pays to rent and wear, isn’t a punk reference point.
More positively by far…
…I’ve no dispute at all with Elena Slivnyak being named the winner. Initially unsure of how to give her look an edge, she turned the jacket backwards when her model mentioned wearing clothes the wrong way round from time to time. See the reverse:
Perhaps what I like best about this concept is that while not focusing too much on the details, one could almost think the model – typically slender and small-chested – was facing forward, before noticing seemingly twisted, mutilated limbs.
That subtext’s gruesomeness means the outfit somehow speaks to the tortured, mangled aesthetic collision of the challenge, as if Project Runway itself had to be twisted out of shape to make punk work. The implications of violence and, again, a straitjacket give the garment an air of confrontation and discord at total odds with its colour palette, that of a Twister ice cream.
That aggression, channelled into style and grace despite itself, is definitively punk – a clear winner.
A close second for me was Christopher Palu‘s design. Ordinarily, I’d say judges were right to rule this ‘safe’, but the absence of anything else I liked beside Elena’s look bumps this up into my top category, even if still a rank below her design.
It might have been a winner, had Christopher not snatched defeat from victory’s jaws by overworking it so much – the entire getup, an intriguing jeans-and-cardigan-of-post-apocalyptic-future number, was simply in dire need of edition.
Credit indeed for making something interesting and graceful out of safety pins, rather than using them for use’s sake (see below), but between those, the asymmetric layering, the the cape effect, the unorthodox hem of the grey tunic and the strange chain cross-formation, there’s just too much going on here.
Things only get more hectic when the model turns around:
Christopher. Really. Edit.
A good catwalk piece nonetheless – perhaps the attire of a drama student in the eighties, punk-inspired dystopia of Mad Max.
The judges’ other picks for safety were, to quote Bill Bailey, about as punk as Enya.
Don’t worry, though – he put a garish, hot pink bale of straw around his model and a stripe across her face to stop us noticing. Somehow, I still did.
If anything this is futuristic, but even then, it’s only because of those details and the over-the-top shoulders. Very well made, but the thousandth time round, who cares? It’s not interesting, and it’s definitely not punk. Clear bottom two material for me, and might very possibly have gone home – I’d certainly rather see more from Jeffrey than from Daniel.
Neon straw does not a punk aesthetic make, Irina Shabayeva, nor tortured ribbons around wrists.
This was a confused look. The hair is punk, the ribbons reminiscent of Avril Lavigne ten years back and the dress more goth in my eyes than anything. Points here too for using zips interestingly, but they feel arbitrary. Without that pattern of clenched metal teeth, what would be punk about this?
The crisscrossing straps don’t help, and things take a serious turn for the worse from the rear view.
Those points for using zips interestingly? Lost, for failing to use one as, well, a zip. That undone fastening looks like the model got caught undressed, perhaps with an attractive stranger, fleeing the scene without stopping to do things up. (Punks don’t flee, and when they show things, it’s on purpose.)
Film noir Amy Winehouse, bouffant drearily deflated. Earnestly though, this silhouette says fifties housewife and the details on top do nothing to obscure that.
The collision of a pleated-looking skirt, sultry cutouts and chains in the back is jarring, too.
Nul points, Korto Momolu.
True of Korto’s chains and just as true of Mychael Knight‘s safety pins, holding a bodice together that appears to be made from low grade serviettes. Impeccably cut perhaps, but this is a cocktail-cum-sundress with steampunk eyewear, and ‘steampunk’ isn’t ‘punk’.
Melissa Fleis made something I liked, and which felt punker by far than most of its competitors. Like Daniel’s work here, of course, I liked it the first five times I saw from her too, but something about the dress – its mixture of print and asymmetry, perhaps? – very much works, and the jacket frames it edgily.
It might be that Melissa’s familiar aesthetic was just suited to this challenge, and I shan’t blame her for that. Top three for me, if the least of those three. Judges didn’t care for it, but I did.
Ari South. Oh Ari. You should not have gone home for this.
I’ll admit Ari – Andy when she placed third, prior to transition, in season eight – is a personal favourite of mine. I’d looked forward eagerly to seeing what she’d offer this time round, and will defend her to the death.
Granted, it’s far from exquisite. I don’t know what the swathe of lime green fabric there is doing, and I want to get rid of the necklace. The jacket has unmined potential. The shorts are well made, if not very punk.
I can’t agree with the judges that nothing here was punk in any way – the jacket’s collar and lapels feel vaguely biker, which developed further might have chimed with the relaxed shirt underneath. Turning what were trousers into the jacket’s sleeves was a stroke of brilliance; I only wish I could tell that’s what they were. (Some pockets or turnups featured there, say, could have saved this.)
In any case, this was competent if uninspired, and the styling hits the right note. This should not have placed in the bottom two.
Neither should this, Viktor Luna‘s equally pedestrian-but-inoffensive effort. I can’t say how much it pained me seeing him and Ari, two champions of mine, as bottom two.
Yes, there are definite problems with this. The styling – bag, hair, shoes – kills the entire outfit, particularly in the latter case. (Team those trousers with a sneaker and their punk potential would light up.) If the jacket had shorter or more fitted, that might have saved it, and as judges said, the copper details needed more establishment.
But this ensemble and Ari’s, worse than Daniel’s tranquiliser of a trouser suit? Irina’s era-confused party dress? Korto’s waitress-at-a-funeral, Mychael’s heiress in space, Seth’s kinky vampire sex pirate? Viewers were spoilt for choice as far as better candidates for offage go.
One can’t help wondering if the poorly-defined, paradoxical nature of the challenge allowed judges freer rein than usual to expel contestants of their choice, criteria for success being less clear and more open to debate than ordinarily they’d be.
Let’s hope for a return to normalcy next week. My verdict, in the mean time:
High: Christopher, Melissa
Safe: Viktor, Ari, Seth, Irina Mychael
Low: Jeffrey, Korto