Was it the piles and piles of gorgeous rugs of various Far East origins at Erin Wasson’s show that made it feel like we were in a temple? Or was it her combo of hemlines chewed by starving Himalayan wolves and body-conscious, Zen-like ankh worship? Regardless, for a second it seemed like a pantsless Ke$ha was going to burn the place down in a leopard bodysuit, spherical bag fashioned like a medieval mace and not much else (we snuck a photo from the rear before her bodyguard caught on and blocked the view). And then the Brooklyn band Yeasayer began their celebration. The solemn looks emerged from a bulwark of crimson rugs, often blocked by a fluffy groupie jacket. And once the 80s B-girl vibe started wagging its finger, the whole experience felt very Golden Child.