That said. Do I love this collection? Yes. Would I die to throw the laser-cut leather pinafore dress around my bloated bod, believing as I step before the mirror that I will look up to see Erin Wasson standing before me? Of course. Would I love to pull on that dress shirt, to have 'ALEXANDERWANGALEXANDERWANG' encircling my midriff? Yep. To shrug on a trench and get my strut on along Bethnal Green Road, the envy of all the fruit and veg sellers, just like Georgia Jagger swaggers (shh Cher Lloyd) down Wang's catwalk, the envy of every aging editor in the front row? More than I want Georgia's lips (/bod/heritage/father). Would I jump off a cliff if Wang told me to? Probs. I want to cram myself into these samples sizes so that the laser-cut logos imprint his name into my skin forever.
Except... BAM there It is. As disappointing as when your Ma used to spot it on that Eminem CD you were slipping under Dido disks in the Tesco trolley; 'PARENTAL ADVISORY EXPLICIT LYRICS'. No Harriet, you are not eighteen; you cannot listen to that. No Alexander you are not a fourteen year old emo; you cannot expect people to wear that...
OK Wang, darling, if you insist.
MdV. x
ALL PHOTOS: STYLE.COM
