The clothes in Henrik Vibskov‘s Fall/Winter 09 collection are a lot like being 17 and drunk and watching a movie you don’t quite get and realizing that Sour Patch Kids and Bacardi 151 should never be mixed. There was a day during my senior year of high school when my friends and I got ridiculously liquored up and cut class to catch whatever was in the theatres. We ended up seeing the adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. The weirdo visuals and strange camera techniques added to the booze left many of us violently ill. I hadn’t thought about that experience in years, not until I saw the latest offerings from Henrik Vibskov.
Men have unpleasant, hairy, lumpy bodies that need to be covered at all times. Presumably the clothes used to cover the monstrosities of the flesh should be more appealing than the prospect of male nudity; the garish, clashing, headache inducing patterns and color choices in Vibskov’s collection barely if at all accomplish that task. I hope the clothes were at least designed from vomit proof material.