The collection, aptly titled "Slut Goes To The Moon," was futuristic with a tinge of luxe, geometric shocked in electricity, plus bold everything. Slut really did plan for a trip to the moon, but she might have met a nice, handsome fella to settle down with along the way.
Lately, the news has been so heavy between the conflicts in Gaza and the Ukraine, the missing Air Malaysian flight, ISIS, Boko Haran and basically anything Monsanto. It's made me question my love of luxury amidst a very depressing time. I've needed to balance the material with the spiritual.
I imagined her doing cartwheels in her penthouse apartment that was adorned with pink frill and confetti. I imagined lots of champagne, vacationing and hangouts with Lisa Loeb. However, since the show first aired I have watched religiously and realized I could not have been more wrong.
We are able. We are beautiful. And we count! That's what the 25 models -- who were just recently selected to perform in the Global Down Syndrome Foundation Be Beautiful Be Yourself Gala -- want Congress, the National Institutes of Health (NIH) and the world to know.
I may not have experience, but I do have foresight. I can see the market is craving some fresh air. Fashion's new stars are 20-something bloggers and with the exception of a few designers, New York Fashion week generally failed to give them Instagram-worthy moments
When I was growing up, my grandmother was one of the most important people in my life. She was a self-taught sewing dynamo without any formal training, and no sewing project was too difficult for Lucy.
In this dog eat dog world the new London Police exhibition entitled "For Dogs Sake" at Corey Helford Gallery, is a uplifting and humorous twist on urban culture, placing our fine four-legged friends in the spotlight.
The clothing swap was the most time-consuming part, what with all the organizing of clothes, hanging of clothes on racks, then ripping the neatly organized racks of clothes apart like packs of ravenous, fashion-starved wolves.
By the time she was 20, Joanna Psoroyannis had arrived in Astoria with only her dreams and a couple of suitcases. She had enrolled at New York University, where she planned to pursue a fine-arts degree.