Forget about long, drawn-out conceptualism. In less than 10
minutes, Jeremy Scott managed to not only condense his entire
aesthetic into one extravagant performance, but also to send an
entire room of jaded editors into a collective roar of laughter.
When the curtains of Paris' Cirque d'Hiver were drawn, they
revealed a revolving floor of glamorous TV game-show winners,
done up to the nines in billowing dollar-bill outfits, plush
logo-embossed furs, fitted designer jeans, sequined jumpsuits
and zip-up jogging ensembles. The rouge-laden, important-haired
celebutantes proudly displayed their hard-earned treasures: a
stationary bicycle, a comfy reclining chair, a fabulous piano
and, in the case of a less fortunate darling, a humble blender.
When the show ended, a second set of curtains opened and Scott,
perched upon a fluffy cloud that would've made Jeff Koons proud,
shared his wealth of mock $10,000 bills and chocolate gold coins
with the audience—just like any bleach-blond, mullet-coiffed,
modern-day Bob Bar