Jeremy Scott

Hats off to Jeremy Scott for putting on an extravagantly hilarious show this afternoon, proving that fashion isn’t all about moody models and serious tailoring. Sometimes—just sometimes—it’s about having a laugh. Besides the spectacle of clashing lurid colors, pink pigtails and faux-fur trimmed booties, there did seem to be a message, a cheeky ode to corporate pop culture.


One red T-shirt read Enjoy God in signature Coca Cola font (as in, eternal salvation is just three easy payments of $49.99). Another proclaimed Milk Kills. A body-con dress came printed with piles of pills, likely the biggest money spinner in the country, while Superman’s logo came in reverse, worn by girls with red capes trailing behind their shoulders.

Never one to shy away from being too in-your-face, Scott put boys in spray-on pants with something stiff and bulging stuffed down the front. His girls, on the other hand, wore their camel-toes with pride, in the tiniest silver micro-shorts imaginable. A Barbie lookalike turned up in a hot-pink bikini under a plastic raincoat as a woman’s orgasmic moans screeched from the speakers. It was all a bit much for my seatmate, who let rip an excited fart, then blushed furiously and apologized for his error.

Scott’s isn’t for everyone, but he does have a knack for getting his point across loud and clear. And his fans certainly appreciate his efforts. The applause was deafening as he walked the entire length of the runway, handing out winks and high fives to friends and allies along the way.

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