The city that never sleeps holds so many different worlds from block to block, borough to bridge. But as vastly unique as they are, the hipster styles in Williamsburg and the haute couture collections or ready-to-wear revelations sashaying down catwalks all over NY Fashion Week have got at least ONE thing in common: Come some moment very soon, there will probably be a mass manufactured, priced down version spilling forth from the never ending inventory of Forever 21.
This week I was fortunate enough to attend Lucky Magazine’s FABB Conference in the big city and, of course, I made a stop to that Mecca of cheap fashion finds we all love and loathe so much, Forever 21.
It was like being in an awkward, multi-floor orgy of rhinestones, leopard print, tacky tribals, leatherette, faux fur and rosettes. And I’ve got the pics to prove it.
These mannequins are either runners up at a Joan Jett lookalike contest or just fans of hard rock mullet. Either way, the trend of poorly executed tribal prints continues into Fall. I’m fairly certain I’ve seen that fabric on the middle dress covering a patio pillow somewhere. Having clothes made of old Sunbrella swatches is not a plus for me.
When is Forever 21 going to learn? Capturing and then shaving street animals and abnormally large sewer rats for their precious fur is wrong! Not so much for PETA’s sake, but for the sake of shoppers’ EYES. My torso itches just looking at that vest.
Where exactly is she going wearing this? A prostitute audition in 1983 and then a Motley Crüe concert afterwards? Forever 21, I do not want to keep telling you this but you have GOT to stop harnessing the miracle of time travel for the sole purpose of bringing back terrible outfits. I mean, you could be doing some serious good with that, like stopping everyone from wearing polka dot leggings and telling Mariah Carey to enjoy her hot body and sanity while it lasts. So selfish.
Quite a bit of floor space was devoted to leopard prints in the Times Square Forever 21 location and I can see why: Forever 21 makes a SHITLOAD of leopard print stuff. It was like peering into the closet of one of the Real Housewives of New Jersey on crack. I half expected Teresa to come barging in, flip one of the tables and call me a prostitution whore.
Wait, I think I meant I HOPED she would.
Forever 21 Times Square New York, WTForgettaboutit!