Something got lost this morning at the Fyodor Golan show (It could have been me – My morning – Dropped boy at school, gave Dr X boys mates dad a lift down town, parked and sauntered to show).
The Fyodor Golan boys hit a lot of the right trend notes but trend notes were not the reason I wanted to see their show. Their past four runways have been dramatic and unafraid. This one had only echo’s of those. I also failed to find a convincing look to push my imagination into overdrive. There were no girls here I’d like to Snog, Marry, Kill let alone Bed. There were some lovely ostrich feather colour explosion cocktail dresses, shiny disco pants and volume pant-suits but all felt individual not part of a whole thing.