Fashion Forward Bridal Masks for You Walk Down the Aisle
A selection of elaborate and functional wedding masks with elegant
styles for a socially distanced wedding
Alongside veils, tiaras and spiffy neckwear, brides and grooms getting
married during the coronavirus pandemic have added face masks to their
must-have wedding accessories.
Top wedding designers and artists on platforms like Etsy released a
slew of masks made specifically for couples and their attendants. Some
match dresses and suits while others incorporate something blue. There
are masks that are monogrammed, hand-woven, or made of silk. Couples
are buying them for themselves as well as getting them as wedding
gifts.
“Masks at first were considered a purely medical device, but as they
have evolved into our new normal we received an overwhelming amount of
messages requesting if we could create them,” said Hermione de Paula,
a London-based bridal designer. “We found it really important to help
our clients find a solution to still feel beautiful on their most
important day.”
Here are a few masks that will help you add a fashionable flare to
your wedding look. Of course, your mask should be beautiful, but don’t
forget to make sure it also has two layers of washable, breathable
fabrics.
Source article and photography : The New York Times
We Watched It All: Fashion Week in Quarantine
Two styles reporters look back on the fashion season that was.
Spoiler: It was weirder than usual.
It was the most unusual fashion season in living memory: largely
digital and disjointed, thrown into chaos by the pandemic. Yet many
designers soldiered on, making videos for their spring collections,
hosting small insider-only presentations or putting on socially
distant (or distant-ish) runway shows in New York, London, Milan and
Paris. And while the shows ranged from sweatpants formal to
straight-up surreal, a few trends emerged.
Jessica Testa: We have to begin with the shoes, right?
Elizabeth Paton: I mean, it was the strangest ever season for catwalk
shows. Why are we even surprised that it was the strangest season of
footwear, too. Your favorite, Jess?
JT: I think the first weird shoes to catch my eye were in the Molly
Goddard Ugg collaboration. Which you saw in person in London.
EP: By catch your eye, you mean covet and want to buy? Don’t be shy to
say so.
JT: Yes. Well. No. Mixed feelings about actually buying them.
EP: Bad in rain was my view. Apparently it rained every day in Paris
(where we weren’t, because of the pandemic). Instead, we made up the
digital front (second and third) row as most of the usual fashion week
attendees tuned in from home.
JT: Yes, and we’re still working
from home for the foreseeable future, which makes buying showy shoes
feel a little pointless. At the same time, a weird shoe can spark joy
in this joyless time! You’re hunched over a computer 24/7, but then
you look down and you’re wearing mules that seem to be made from
Elmo’s skin.
EP: Do you think that the huge sales spike in Crocs is because they
spark joy in people? (I understand why they exist in hospitals and
kitchens, but aesthetically I continue to hate Crocs). I liked the
Hermès status clogs. Delicious. I was pleasantly baffled by the horny
reptilian shoes from Matthew Williams’s Givenchy debut. Fully alarmed
by the metal clamp-ons at Paco Rabanne, making the wearer look
imprisoned yet airborne at same time.
JT: I think for the fashion crowd, Crocs are more of a novelty item —
so yes, joy-sparking, or at least Instagram like-sparking. But
speaking of foot imprisonment: the three-toe high-heeled sandals at
Givenchy!
EP: Move over, Margiela Tabis.
JT: I just appreciate the audacity. Even if I reflexively cringe when
imagining putting them on.
Source article : The New York Times
The Glorious Absurdity of Paris Fashion
Balenciaga was great, Chanel was lumpy, and Thom Browne had
spaceships.
It was the giant floating dachshund spaceship that did it.
It drifted over an expansive Art Deco coliseum — site of the 2132
Lunar Games, an intergalactic extravaganza supposedly taking place
239,000 miles from earth as men and women in 50 shades of intricately
worked sporting whites flew the flag of hope — to close Thom Browne’s
show.
It was ridiculous and charming at once, as was the scenario, which
called to mind all sorts of things (“The Hunger Games,” the 1920s
tennis star Suzanne Lenglen, “Chariots of Fire”). So too were the
clothes: jackets and long pleated skirts and tops transformed into
bottoms and bottoms into tops, all elevated by handwork into something
actively precious. It took the postponed Tokyo Olympics and reimagined
them not as a symbol of loss and stasis but as a symbol of
possibility.
And it crystallized the absurdity of the whole exercise: of holding
fashion month in the midst of a pandemic; of pressure by the French
government (according to multiple sources) on fashion houses to go
ahead as close to usual as possible, the better to support the
hard-hit industry, despite the masks and social distancing and
security measures put in place.
By the time the digital curtain fell on the last of the Paris shows —
Maison Margiela’s tour de force of a tango between documentary and
dance, the rawness of scrap and the grace of a ruffle-erupting trench
or a feathered bias gown — it was clear what was needed right now
wasn’t escapism. Even if that’s where we started, back in early
September when the New York “shows” began. It wasn’t comfort clothes
or ways to hibernate until this is all over. Even if there were a lot
of bathrobe coats and bedroom slipper boots.
It was, rather, a plunge into imagination and the instinct toward
self-decoration and self-expression that is, in essence, an
affirmation. It was a shout into the void that takes fear and doesn’t
ignore it, but rather transforms it, uses neurosis and pain as a
catalytic converter. Yeah! Bring it on.
Source article and photographies : The New York Times