rickrolled

Times have slipped into couture fantasy so before I switch into an alternative mode, final comments on men's week must be made. Just to preserve my sanity. This is ironic to say considering the twisted work of Rick Owens is the very one that drew me to write my concluding memo, but then again, irony is perpetually present in said work. I've already expressed my hesitation for the overtly edgy, and while bonafide skirts, leggings, and gothic wrap dresses do not register on a personal basis, they chime in quite well from an analytical perspective. The severity Owens continually serves to the masses isn't to be taken lightly, and funnily enough, I don't think any of us do. Yet, no matter how rigid the designer's aesthetic may seem, there's a fluidity about the clothes that appease, rather than frighten. Somehow, Owens caters to groups beyond the modern-day Libertines. Paradoxes rule.

 photo cred: style.com

Case in point, that first black knit sweater, both commercially appealing and relevant to Owens point of view, bodes well in the varied interest of his consumer base. Same goes for the wool shorts, leather gilet, and graphic parka trenches that took up a fair bit of space in the latter end of the collection. On the other hand, it's difficult to see someone else other than Rick Owens' spawn sporting clogs and leg warmers, albeit the visual and utilitarian promise. There is always compromise, though. It's through certain pieces like the few multi-paneled shift shirts that Owens marries the two extremes and satisfies either end of his clientele. Oh, and those in between. Just guess where I stand... until the correct answer arises, time to lament until men's week sweeps by again.