The overall feeling to the show, of course, was far from innocent. A huge, red, hooded, wool cape belted over a tight black dress stomping down the runway gave the impression that this time, Little Red Riding Hood ate the wolf. These were no fainting daisies in this novel; they were the type of women to leap on their horse and fly into battle at a moment’s notice. There were long, sweeping black coats and flowy black skirts. As the models rounded corner after corner of the library, the black fabric whooshed and never fluttered.
The entire show was a study in contrasts and artful layering. Bulky sweaters belted over tight body suits. Oversized blazers draped over glamorous cocktail dresses. Stuart painstakingly created a feeling of carelessness. These girls wore whatever was handy as they headed out to kick ass on the plains. It was beautiful utility: slouchy hats over sparkly dresses. Actually, there were two kinds of hats and both will soon find their way into my wardrobe. One: slouchy, wool, caps. Two: tall, bell shaped riding hats.
