Forever, and forever, farewell

After six seasons and a total of one hundred episodes, the television show Nip/Tuck featured its final episode last Wednesday night. While I normally would try to focus on something that has occurred within the fashion world, I feel a need to reflect.

From the beginning I was captivated by the television drama. Although I personally would never let my 14-year old daughter watch it, my parents, however, never stopped me. Everything about Nip/Tuck was fabulous. It was filled with beautiful people, intense drama, and unconventional surgeries (not to mention the music was exceptional). What more could I want in a television show? While I’ll admit that as the show progressed things became less and less believable, I still remained a loyal viewer, watching it every week at its 10 PM slot.

The final season, one of the better written, focused on the relationship between Christian Troy (Julian McMahon) and Sean McNamara (Dylan Walsh) McMahon), plastic surgeons and business partners. Through the years we witnessed their relationship slowly deteriorate because of various dramatic situations –sleeping with each others wives, illegal business decisions, drug addiction, sex addiction, etc, etc. However, neither Christian nor Sean felt that any of their past disagreements were damaging enough to end their medical practice.

In the final episode, Christian (often the character who disrupts the balance), comes to terms with their failing relationship. While both Christian and Sean are intensely devoted to each other, Christian accepts reality by realizing that he was destroying Sean by refusing to let go.

During the last scene, Sean is headed to Arizona. Christian walks him to airport security where they exchange brief goodbyes. Heading in different directions, the camera pans to each of their faces where it is obvious to tell they gripped with emotion. Nip/Tuck first aired in 2003, emerging in a whirlwind of drama and chaos. The final season, however, finished on a powerful yet simplistic note. It is difficult to believe that it is actually over. I had been there through every obstacle, every achievement, and every life changing moment. I had witnessed as the practice, originally in Miami, Florida, moved to Los Angles. I saw fights and I heard apologies. I knew each character as if they were a part of my family. I had grown to love the world of Nip/Tuck.

The episode concludes with Christian sitting at a bar at the airport. He takes a large sip of his drink and looks over at a blonde sitting a few stools away from him. “Let me buy you a drink,” he says. She declines, showing absolutely no interest in his advances. “Can I get you another one,” the bartender asks Christian. Christian declines saying that he has to operate in the morning. The blonde instantly reacts: “You’re a doctor?” There’s a slight pause as Christian smiles, “Plastic Surgeon.”

Crazy Campbell Attacks...again!

As many of us have heard, supermodel Naomi Campbell was recently involved with Manhattan police after she “supposedly” attacked her chauffer this past Tuesday afternoon. According to NBC news, Campbell became enraged with her driver and began to attack him with her cell phone from the backseat of the limo. The driver, Miodrag Mejdina, stopped the car around 58^th street and 2^nd avenue to alert a nearby police officer, at which point Campbell reportedly jumped out of the backseat and fled the scene. Oddly enough, the following day Mejdina retracted his statement claiming that he had overreacted. What is perhaps the most interesting part of the entire story is Campbell’s past involvement with the law. In 2000, Campbell pleaded guilty to an assult on her then assistant, Georgina Galanis. In 2003, Campbell was sued by a former employee who said the model had attacked her while at Campbell’s apartment. The following year, in 2004, Campbell’s maid released a statement saying she too had been a victim of her employers rage. Along with all of these incidents, there are several others that have exposed Campbell’s wild temper. In consequence, it seems a little hard to believe that Mejdina’s accusations do not hold any truth. Whatever the case may be it would appear, based on Campbell’s past, that she does not need any more trouble with the law. Do we think that there may have been an exchange of money? I personally would not doubt it.

PARSONS RESPONDS TO MCQUEEN'S DEATH.2

Parsons College Campus, New York City – On February 11th well known and provocative British designer Alexander McQueen, 40, was found dead in his home in West London, sending instant shockwaves throughout the Parsons Fashion community.

According to officials, McQueen's body was found around 10:30 am hanging from his wardrobe; an apparent suicide. His death came only days before the start of London Fashion Week, making many question the amount of pressure placed on McQueen by the fashion industry.

Born in London in 1969, Lee Alexander McQueen attended Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design where he received his Masters degree in fashion design. He was discovered by international style icon and designer, Isabella Blow, who purchased his entire graduating collection. McQueen would soon be known for his outrageous yet influential designs throughout the fashion world.

For the community at New York City’s Parson’s New School for Design, a school credited for having notable alumni such as Anna Sui, Marc Jacobs and Alexander Wang, his death came as a complete and tragic surprise. Amy Brueck, a student at Parsons, notes that his contributions to the fashion world go far beyond the music videos or red carpet outfits seen on artists like Lady Gaga.“Hearing about anyone's death these days is at first unbelievable. The immediate reaction is to google until you find enough sources to support it,” she explained. She recalls first hearing the news while watching Korean music videos during a class at Parsons. A fellow classmate turned to her revealing that he had just received a text message with the news of his McQueen's death. "After looking it up," she continues "we found it to be true and were all in shock. It was eerie.”

Lashaia Artis, also a fashion student at Parsons, was particularly heartbroken by the sudden news. Like McQueen, Artis approaches her fashion designs with the intention of creating art that has the potential to impact those around. She says that his death brought up personal concern in regards to what the fashion industry can do to a person, despite their fame and fortune. “This was a lesson for me,” Artis says, “to always stay humble, keep god in mind and make sure I am happy deep down inside.”

Parsons student Samuel Forney added that he too felt confusion about McQueen’s suicide. “When I heard McQueen died, I couldn't believe it. Suicide?? How horrible was his life? Being one of the top designers in the world,” he questioned.

There are many others like Forney who would agree that McQueen was likely one of the most talented designers of present day. His recent death however surprising, does question how much pressure is placed on today’s designers. Still it is difficult to disregard the death of his mother days before the incident or Isabella Blow’s death – also a suicide – in 2007. Either way McQueen’s suicide was felt by many as tragic and has clearly impacted the fashion community at Parsons School for Design. “As for someone who has to replace him and keep that aesthetic going the way he had it,” Artis continued, “for me that seems impossible, no one will ever to mimic McQueen.”

My Time at Fashion Week.2

This past Thursday, my friend and next-door neighbor, Jessica and I went to Bryant Park to attend Isaac Mizrahi’s Fall 2010 fashion show.

On the morning of the show (which was scheduled for noon) Jessica and I woke up at around 9:00 convinced that we needed approximately two and a half hours in order to be presentable to the fashion world. Jessica knocked on my door to make sure I was awake and I made coffee for us both while we discussed possible outfits. Drinking coffee on any other day would normally be a fine and necessary choice in order to get the morning going, however in our case it only created more anxiety – cue 20 minutes later while we frantically and barbarically ripped apart our dressers trying to find something to wear. Needless to say after about an hour of this we finally did discover something “worthy” enough for fashion week. I wore a pair of black harem pants, a vintage black top, and the highest pair of high heels I had ever seen - they were Jessica's and also black. From underneath a mountain of clothing, Jessica found a pair of black boot cut pants that tied in the front, a grey blazer, and a simple white top. She completed the outfit with a pair of grey boots her mother had sent her a week before.

The morning continued as we did our makeup, I believe we both wanted something along the lines of “casual yet chic.” I straightened my hair, the little I do have, and we both finished our coffee. After this all commenced the time was 10:30. It would seem that we had given ourselves a little too much time, huge surprise. But we were problem solvers, and Jessica and I agreed that we would instead leave then, which would allow us some extra time to look around. My suitemate who was sitting in the kitchen during all of this, immediately looked up at Jessica and I as if we were crazy. “You both need to calm down,” she said. “And Veronica, breathe, you’re shaking.” We both nervously laughed. Let me repeat that coffee was a terrible decision.

We did in fact leave not soon after that. We walked out of the dorm towards the subway stop, in extremely painful high heels, getting halfway down the street before deciding that we should split a cab; wouldn’t it be better if we showed up in one anyway. So we got into a cab and headed towards Bryant Park. Maybe it was because of the nerves, but both Jessica and I felt nauseous; and the cab driver’s abrupt stopping did nothing to help ease our stomachs.

Ten minutes later we had arrived to an enormous crowd surrounding the steps outside the tent’s entrance. We left the cab and walked as gracefully as we could while wearing 6 inch heels towards the building. From what we could tell, that upon entering you needed to show some sort of pass to the men guarding the entrance. These individuals were large. So large that it wouldn't be ridiculous to assume that they doubled as heavy weight boxers when they weren't guarding fashion shows. Conclusion: we were terrified. While we had our names on a list we did not have any sort of pass and it would appear that that list was inside. Quick thinking, we acted as if we had done this many times before and walked up to doors. Fortunately, it seemed that we had convinced the security guard that we had in-fact done this before and he let us walk through, saying, “Bring it next time.” Jessica and I held in our laughter as we walked through the doors. If we knew it was this easy, I think we both would have attempted this before.

When we got inside, we headed towards the end of a reasonably long line that appeared to be heading towards the main tent, which is where Isaac Mizrahi’s show would take place. A woman with a note pad came up to our section of the line and began asking people if they already had their seating assignments. Knowing we were on the list I quickly got her attention, told her our names and we were able to immediately enter the main tent. Based on our luck it would seem that we were made to attend fashion shows.

Once inside, Jessica and I were overwhelmed by everything. For one we both agreed that there were many people who didn’t exactly look like they belonged at Fashion Week (which was a little disappointing). Basic blue jeans, plain t-shirts, and ugg boots are fine for normal day wear but this was NOT a normal day! On the other hand there were others, who not only dressed the part but also were recognizable figures in the fashion world, specifically writers for Vogue.

The tent’s setup was particularly beautiful in a simplistic way. Large drapes hung from the ceiling that had treetops painted on either side while the runway was made out of a concrete like material. Jessica and I found our seats indicated by our name cards. Not only were we excessively excited by the fact that we even had name cards but we were pleasantly surprised to find that we had good seats for being “nobodies.” After 20 minutes of talking about whom we recognized and the outfits of those around us the lights dimmed, recognizing that the show was about to begin.

The show began as a live band played music while the models dressed in Isaac’s designs walked down the runway. Jessica and I would grab eachother’s hands whenever there was a particular piece that we liked or if we were just excited in general. As the program indicated there were several chapters within the show, each chapter highlighting a particular part of his collection. The final chapter was the most exceptional as the room was transformed into a winter wonderland. Faux snowflakes slowly fell down to the floor as models wearing glittery dresses elegantly strolled across the runway. But then - as quickly as it had begun it had ended. The show itself only lasted for about 15 minutes. The models collectivley walked out, presenting all of the beautiful outfits we had just seen. Everyone was clapping, it was fabulous. Isaac came out about two minutes later. He quickly walked down the runway smiling and waving before heading backstage. I was upset that my special moment had finally ended but was glad that I was fortunate enough to experience it at all. Everyone began to get up to leave and Jessica and I looked at eachother and exchanged sad faces. We both knew that reality was waiting for us right outside the exit doors. “I suppose we have to go back now,” I said. Jessica agreed and we headed towards the doors. However, not before grabbing our name cards.