A bombastically cheesy male American voiceover artist—he sounded like he was unveiling toaster-ovens, jet skis, and other Big Prizes in an old school TV game show—announced each look by number as it came out. Around halfway through, his intonation warped to sound more like a Looney Tunes character falling off a cliff: “seven-teeeeeeeen.” By look 24, he gave up altogether. Instead a preschooler repeated “OK” over the percussive soundtrack which—along with the flower motifs we saw on the models’ pimped Reebok Instapump Fury sneakers—had Daisy Age overtones.
This colorful twistedness on the audio mixed beautifully with the visuals in what was Ninomiya’s most overtly playful collection yet. Entitled Iridescence, it was a departure in both color and texture and, Ninomiya said in his note, an exploration of reflection. He applied his weird science to that process to generate a cast of psychedelic kawaii avatars in Burning Man couture who were mind-meltingly mesmerizing to watch pass by.
Some were surrounded by an aura of twisted multicolor wires—they looked like aesthetically vandalized electrical relays in humanish form. These wires were then twisted into floral outlines and embedded in froths of tulle. Rainbow feathers cascaded in colored clusters over more tulle or above a macramé bodice. Tufted clusters of synthetic pastel ‘hair’ were set in a black grid of more cotton candy material over layered pink tulle skirts. A marine green paisley brocade jacket worn over black shorts and under a harness of twisted chrome wire came in a section that seemed truest to this designer’s recurring surrealist punk codes.
There was an excellent section that played satin-shine olive quilted country wear against emergency orange highlights that included a standout orange armed mega-weave bomber jacket. Then the green quilting came framed in articulated trellises or bolted together floral-shaped metal slivers that were coated in a rainbow of many-colored reflective finish. A dress-shell of what looked like opaque stick-on gift-wrap was followed by two magnificent pieces, a capelet and a dress, Spirograph meets stained glass sections. The closing look resembled a human that had been swarmed by floral shaped insects. These were clothes that ripped the fabric of your conception of clothes: garments from a parallel but way more playful dimension. Heading out onto the rainy gray boulevard afterwards felt like a savage comedown.
