photos by Nathan Gates
A bemused audience tottered out after Pierre Garroudi buzzed New York with the kind of fashion show it rarely sees. We’d watched in amused wonder - and the occasional averted eye - as bare bosoms and perky nipples peeked through dresses that were, quite literally, made of slits, and also as men’s pant flaps folded forward to reveal bare bubble buttock cheeks (oh, joy!). At one point we were treated to lewd gyrations; the kind you’d give your last laundry quarter to see at an 8th avenue peepshow!
Twice a year, hordes of fashion people descend upon New York to revel in an orgy of clothing, catwalks, and champagne. This is what is called the New York Fashion Week, and we natives get high on the excitement- dizzy with the barrage of skinniness that abounds. Skinny. Skinny. Skinny.
I, intrepid trend reporter that I am, braved the rabid throng and infiltrated the enclosure to get a little insight into that world. Truth be told, there was no ingenuity required when, filled with vast amounts of self importance, I was waived through security at the entrance of “The Loft” at Bryant Park, ostentatiously indicating my R.S.V.P’d (possibly V.I.P’d!) invite to the only! designer show I got one to. It was at the hands of Pierre Garroudi that I caught a glimpse of the divine madness that is this business.
Originally from Iran, Pierre worked as a hairdresser in Paris for six years before moving to New York - the centre of all things and the universe. He settled into fashion design after working at retail, doing a year at the Fashion Institute of Technology, and even selling clubwear out of his first shop in Chelsea. His ambition has led him to the glamour of runway shows and a wholesale facility for interested retailers other than his own signature boutique, now on Thompson Street in Soho.
Should a custom made dress be required within 24 hours, his is the talent I would recommend. He works closely with his clients, finding inspiration in a magazine tear of their choice, a hastily scribbled sketch, or even a favoured, tatty garment, rescued from the moth ridden recesses of ancient storage. Pierre’s Spring 2001 Mens/Womens line showed a bold change from his usual ultra-feminine, fluidly draped pieces. This year had a very retro-futuristic (fashion-speak, sweetie!) influence with a lot of architectural seaming, combining the stylistic naivete of early seventies cult t.v. space-age films and a couple of porno flicks from the same era.
The effect was deliciously lewd and witty, emphasised when the audience was given programmes onto which every outfit was listed/christened with a delightfully lascivious bent. What was described as a “Chelsea Boy dream come true” white ruffle tee, turned out to be an alarmingly explicit, form-fitting all-in-one with an opening at the crotch from which the model (to sighs of relief and raucous applause) pulled out a banana and proceeded to peel and eat it. There were “Viagra pants to hide the hard-ons” and “Star Trek the next of the next generation suits”, “John Holmes porno pants” and make-up straight from a Duran Duran Wild Boys video shoot….altogether faahbulous, daahlings!
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www.pierregarroudi.com
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