Voltage 2010

Friday night was Voltage Fashion Amplified at First Avenue in Minneapolis. This year we were perched at the railing on the upper level in order to avoid some of the pushing and shoving of last year (it got a little crazy up in that bitch) and also to allow for easier viewing of the clothing for those among us who are short in stature. I admit, watching a rock and fashion show from up above does put things in a weird perspective, not just in terms of how one sees the clothing but also in terms of interacting with the crowd. Although, things weren’t quite as raucous this year. In fact, it seemed downright organized, which is kind of disappointing. What, no sneaking into the VIP section (guarded by a tough-looking broad) to hobnob with press types and the Beautiful People? No displays of underwear? Damn.

Before I go into my download of the fashion at this year’s event, I’ve noticed that most of what fashion writing exists in the Twin Cities is consistently upbeat, dare I say perky. The idea, which is a good one if you’re connected to the industry in any way, is to champion our designers because the design world here is so small and insular. It’s a seedling that people want to see grown and flourish. I do, too. But since I’m not connected to the industry other than as an observer, sometime participant and home sewer, I can also say what other people won’t:

Minnesota designers need to take risks. Go ahead. We can handle it.

A show of fashion is as much about the pure spectacle and art as it is selling anything. We need the spectacle. So if a designer wants to send some muted sportswear down the runway, I say, “Off with her head!” Fashion that tends towards the everyday should be punctuated with some kind of big splash or should be shown in ways we’ve never seen/thought about before. This is why, when PFT Couture sent some actual gowns down the runway, the crowd gasped. “Oh, fashion! Real fashion… Give us more!” The same thing happened when any of the models appeared showing a lot of skin. It titillated the crowd and they loved it. Show us swimwear! Show us gowns! Show us rock hard abs. Just please don’t show us khaki.

Side note: Big, enormous ups to Kerry Riley of Red Shoe Clothing Co. for designing a LOT of drama into drummer Laura Bennett’s dress with humongous black train. Loved it.

And please don’t show us cotton skirts in the color peach, Frances Zerr. Perhaps the designs were more intricate than the lighting and distance allowed for, but it’s runway. The designs need to stand up to this. I saw a lot of neutral shades (broken only by very colorful socks) in simple shapes, no detailing, during this portion of the evening and there was zero buzz in the crowd. A designer should be thinking not only, “What is my point of view?”  but “What need/longing am I filling? What fantasy or dream?” Quite honestly, we don’t long to know where to get neutral casual clothing. We have plenty of places to go for that.

Even if the fabrics are sustainable, the clothing has to be something a woman is excited to  wear. Too often now “sustainable” equals boring; something tan in color. How about a gorgeous sustainable cocktail dress? How about something sexy? This is completely my opinion, but the tan and peach doesn’t say sexy to me.

Designers with a definite P.O.V. included Danielle Everine, Raul Osorio, Kevin Kramp, PFT Couture and Emma Berg. Even if I didn’t love the clothing or want to buy it, I was left with a definite idea of who they are as designers and artists. The two designers putting out menswear – Osorio and Kramp – were two of the standouts. Menswear often feels like the same old, same old but these two managed to take things new directions.

Osorio’s collection focused on structured jackets with a military feel. His bio in the show program also mentioned traditional Charro suits worn by mariachis. The jackets featured gold buttons and were often draped with gold chains, not something that just any guy could pull off. And the accompanying shorts were often so fitted I feared that the models would not be able to sit down in them, let alone walk.

I’m not sure how I feel about shorter shorts for men (Osario was showing them in various lengths but all seemed to be quite above the knee). I know that I don’t love the long cargo shorts and flip flop look that has become a uniform for guys in the Midwest, maybe throughout America, but the question of whether men should don shorter shorts leaves me a bit uneasy. The truth is, I turned away from shorts the day I woke up wearing cut-off jean shorts and thought, “How did I get here?” I believe they are an article of clothing best left for the act of exercising or gardening or going to the Farmer’s Market (if you’re just there to grab some corn). So encouraging the wearing of Formal Shorts by designing them with matching jackets isn’t something I’m prepared to endorse just yet.

The other menswear designer, Kevin Kramp, was the only designer at the show who seemed willing to step over the fence that holds our Minnesota notions about fashion in check. His knit jumpers were over-sized to the point of the grotesque in some cases, as if the men inside were dressed as Etsy mascots or teddy bears or even enormous babies (the jumpers definitely had enough room in them for diapers, diaper bags, maybe a stroller or two). I could tell that the knits were beautiful, something any guy would want to wear in smaller, more manageable form, even if the shape was somewhat repellent (Interestingly enough, Osario on one hand showed shorts so tight I could see the goods from my place in the balcony and Kramp showed jumpers so big I really wouldn’t have been sure of the model’s gender if not for the open chest of the designs).

I’m not sure where a guy would go in some of these jumpers, one more dramatic than the rest, but it allowed the audience to indulge in a fantasy world in which guys maybe go to a party and stop off at SuperAmerica in enormous knitted suits, metal breastplates adorned with feathers and face painting. Again, it’s about the artistry and the dream. Actually, the best place to wear one of Kramp’s designs might be to Burning Man, if only they weren’t made of wool, cashmere, mohair, etc.

In the show catalog, designer Danielle Everine’s work is described as “depicting the burdens placed on women with regard to outward appearance.” If Everine truly believes that fashion is a burden, she’s dedicated herself to a strange profession or she’s a sadomasochist. This might explain why Everine’s models came out in a collection of high-waist pants. Talk about a burden? You can’t have an ounce of extra padding on the ol’ skeleton if you expect to pull them off.

The looks were inspired by “the 19th century leisure class” except women of the 19th century didn’t wear pants. They were still wearing corsets! Now THAT would have been interesting – you want to talk about a fashion burden, corset fits the bill. I can’t help wondering if Everine meant the early 20th century??  Or maybe 19th century boys? Yes, I know, “inspired by” is the key phrase here… Anyway, whatever.  There was a definite cohesiveness to the look of the collection and I could imagine someone wearing these outfits while playing croquet or riding one of those bicycles with the enormous front wheel or a bike made of bamboo.

And yet some of the clothes, paired with severe make-up and Joan Crawford-esque hair gave one the impression of wickedness… as if the women wearing them would enjoy nothing more than spanking you with a mallet before running away into the moors…

As previously mentioned, PFT Couture was a definite standout, not only for designer Pafoua Thao’s decision to send some gowns down the runway but for her use of color. Her designs were feminine and full of bursts of color. She embraced the flowers! But if you wore her dresses, you wouldn’t be a wallflower. The same holds true for Emma Berg, no shrinking violet, who had her models come out wearing wigs that looked… just like Emma Berg’s hair.

Just as as aside, somewhat unrelated: I will not be sad when purses made of zippers go away. Thank you.

Of course, Voltage is an amazing event. It puts designers and their work in front of us in ways we can’t experience it in stores. And I haven’t even talked about the bands yet: Blue Sky Blackout (hooray), Red Pens (eh), Caroline Smith & The Good Night Sleeps (aka Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lapelles but they played last year), Mayda (hooray) and Ruby Isle (hooray against my better judgment). I admit, I forgot all about the preceding bands once Mayda came out onstage.

She’s tiny. She seems to be about as tall as her guitar. But what a huge voice and presence. The place finally started to come alive. We were rockin’ and the fashion all looked way more interesting. She… moved around! She… took to the runway! She was not afraid. No, Mayda was in our faces. In a good way. She has two albums – “Stereotype” and “The Interrogation” and I plan to check them both out.

The final band was Ruby Isle, which describes itself as The Party Band of the Apocalypse. It looks like Mark Mallman has finally found a project that suits his talents – running around, swinging a synthesizer, yelling, hopping. Yeah, I’m not a Mallman fan. If I hear too much about someone, if they are everywhere, they start to bug the shit out of me (Jeremy Messersmith, this means you, too). I greatly enjoyed Ruby Isle’s set though because it also gave the party the levity it was looking for, dying for. End on a high note. Or, as it said in the show program, end on an energy drink for crackheads, night club-pop art mayhem.

I don’t know about the mayhem part. We’re all still Minnesotan, after all.

Wanna see some of the clothes, godnabbit? Check out the slide show on the City Pages site.