Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

New York, Feb 11, 2001 / FWD/ --- A woman, dressed in a chador, swathed in layers of fabric, leaps onto the runway, carrying a distressed marionette. Twirling around the catwalk, to a vaguely Middle-Eastern beat, she's in a state of transcendental communication with the audience. It was, of course the Moet & Chandon fashion show again, and the designer responsible for the riveting theatrics was Elisa Jimenez.

Jimenez herself performed the opening introductory dance - and what was to follow clearly mesmerized the audience. Out came models dressed in layers of fabric - what the designer calls polymorphic for their adaptability and versatility in styling - corsets and knee-high boots. The scene could well have been taking place in a futuristic bazaar on the set of "Star Wars." Warrior women, looking tough yet sexy, made the rounds in garments with a touch of ragged, shredded chic. The fabrics also told the tale: boiled spandex, clay-encrusted twill and scrunched satin.

Whether or not you understand the subtext Jimenez is trying to communicate, the clothes are clearly inventive and imaginative. Mini dresses in Lycra, which had side lattice-lace and a rough but daring quality, one could imagine on a downtown street urchin.

Jimenez may have stolen the show with her not-of-this world clothes, but that's not to say that Christine Ganeaux and Seth Shapiro, the other designers in the show, had any less to offer.

Ganeaux, seizing on the militaristic current that's riding through fashion, showed how a simple item, the nylon flight jacket, can be adapted in numerous ways. The designer started with a fitted version of a flight jacket in orange and gray, but like a kaleidoscopic turn of the scissor, moved on to belted-out blazers, jumpsuits and thigh-high slitted skirts in the same vein. Low-rise pants came with zip-up cuffs.

The designer then moved on to a series of waxed cotton outfits - once again mining the militaristic theme - but served them up in a dramatic, floor-length, slim coats and paired with motor cross pants. Less successful, however, was her foray into a more elegant evening mode, and a slinky mink-collared black, zip-up flight jacket, which didn't work styled with a white cashmere tuxedo trouser.

Seth Shapiro, the last designer, had no concerns about what real women actually want to wear. Instead, he took everything from the realm of fashion - different fabrics, textures, and patterns - and threw them in a blender and mixed them together.

It was a caricature of fashion, with panne velvet mixed with gingham, bold black and white stripes mixed with three-tiered skirts made with contrasting geometric patterns, and florals with patchwork and tartans. Were they real clothes for real women? No. But ultimately that was not the purpose. As one retailer who had a conversation with Shapiro earlier in the week learned, those clothes were not designed to be sold, but to entertain.

And it was certainly entertaining, watching some of the fashion types here scrunch their faces in distaste and horror.

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion

Christine Ganeaux Fashion