So apparently the Met is throwing punk parties nowadays; well, I guess someone had to, what with CBGBs closed and the Mudd Club closed and Max’s Kansas City closed and…everything closed, and half the people dead. So they threw a party called “PUNK: Chaos to Couture,” invited the Living Dead, the Social Skeletons, and the mummified dowagers and their walkers to a gala and…
Sienna Miller was the best-dressed woman there?
I know, I know, I’m losing my edge: first Katy Perry, now Sienna Miller. Both women I love to loathe, and both hit it out of the park in terms of the right fashion at the right time and place. It’s not easy to do glam punk, but Miller does it here with a jacket and headpiece worth more than Jonny Rotten ever spent on heroin in his entire life. But she still doesn’t look like she’s in costume; she looks like she could wear that with ripped jeans in a squat and be as relaxed and at home as Gwyneth Paltrow pretends to be when surrounded by food.
But that’s costume, gala punk. The Little Fashion Troll, he is the real thing.
And can someone tell me why, out of that entire fringey shorts over the camo shorts with the Pucci scarf with the prepster vest with the Derelicte jacket I am focused entirely on the feet and wondering where (and why) he ever got camel-toed British military socks? Do the Japanese do a lot of deer stalking in the Highlands or something? If they do, trust John Galliano to sneak up and snag their look when they’re not looking.