In a pun you could parse for paragraphs, Robert Geller called his second collection Beuys Don t Cry. The Hamburg-born designer claimed influence from German art icon Joseph Beuys sober, utilitarian mode of dress, which was obvious in the uniformly gray tailoring (there was even a blazer that looked cut from felt, a fabric used by Beuys to great effect in some of his most famous pieces). But balancing Beuys were Geller s early experiences in L.A., where his family moved when he was ten years old. So a gray Beuys blazer was paired with the acid-toned skinny jeans of skaters from Venice Beach. And that Goth-tinged culture—n.b. the namesake Cure song—was also echoed in shirts and sweaters with an angst-y droop, especially the languid striped cardigan over an equally attenuated top in the same stripe. Then, the pièces de résistance: a black leather vest over a biker jacket, and another jacket, this one in white leather, belted at chest height on the boy-waif who sported it. Such androgyny was enough to evoke a blurry recollection of Kimberly Peirce s Boys Don t Cry, one more piece in that pun s puzzle. Geller claimed a hopeless bias toward skinny-mini proportions, though he also showed a generously proportioned, broad-shouldered gray suit, more man than boy—after all, Beuys was no waif. And all in all, Geller s trawl through his own autobiography actually yielded enough promisingly odd material to make him one to watch.
