Haute or Not was a feature we started in 2001 and ran for a few years before we went totally shop-directory and all our “subcultural newspaper”-type stuff fell by the wayside for a while. At the time, we pretty much knew nothing about high-end fashion. We were (and still kind of are) suspicious of mainstream couture designers, the mining of street trends into $400 flannel shirts and the like, and really hated how we were expected to bow down and drool just because some mucketymuck performed a brainfart with fabric. This is before we started watching Project Runway and understanding the concept of “point of view” as well as seeing how difficult it is to put a lot of this stuff together. It was also before the decade blasted us with Rachel Zoe, Paris Hilton, and the endless Stepfordesque parade of fried blondes, making everybody from The Real Housewives of Orange County to Rock of Love look kind of the same. It’s this background of relentless conformity, of “safety,” that makes the loss of Alexander McQueen’s grandiose imagination that much deeper. After all, while a lot of these designs are truly ridiculous, they never commit the all-too-common crime of being boring.

Will we be reviving this feature? Maybe.

(Originally published September 18, 2001.)

Welcome to our first edition of Haute or Not, where we ridicule some of the more ludicrous ideas we’ve found while perusing sites, magazines, and other multimedia. We publish these pretty much whenever we feel like it. This week, we take a look at why Lilah doesn’t buy Vogue. (it’s much more fun to vandalize magazines at the doctor’s office.) Most of these were taken from the fashion photo archive FirstView, which is a lot of fun to look at. Although not always beautiful, as evidenced below.

First up, Christian Dior, who really needed to take that season off. You know, this outfit looks less like an artistic expression and more of a distress call. It’s not just that it’s a straitjacket – it’s a straitjacket done BADLY. I can hear giggles from the fetish community, somewhere out there in the great fashion cosmos. Balloon animals tied listlessly in the hair just tops it all off with, “I’ve given up.”

Ohhhh, isn’t this a lovely. You know, it really is something to find out that wearing intestines on one’s head was considered fashionable. The rest of the ensemble just looks embarrassing – perhaps I’m supposed to think of Greek statuary, or the female form erotically covered in mud, but instead I’m thinking about those cheesy “boobs” T-shirts sold at tacky souvenir shops all along the Jersey shore. Shame on you, Mr. Gaultier.

The sad thing is, this outfit would be actually kind of cool if John Galliano hadn’t decided to have a rockinghorse erupt from this woman’s bosom. On perusing some of his other work, sometimes I wonder if he chooses his models by putting his worst enemies up on the catwalk.

(Note from 2010: these last two pics are not just bad, but they’ve also kind of fermented with the extra outdatedness factor. The 90’s were not quite over yet!)

Dior again. Proof that people who create $500 shirts really, really look silly trying to cash in on rave fashion. While the thing on the left isn’t too bad, albeit uninspired with a stupid T-shirt logo – come on, can you really associate haute couture and stoners? acid trips? – it’s a lot better than having a giant blue star crawling into your ass.

Another Galliano. While fashion models inspire envy for looking thin, seductive, pretentious, better-than-thou, and supposedly perfect, one thing they can’t do is look tough. I damn near fell out of my chair lauging at Girlfriend here. I’m sorry, this just looks ridiculous.

Well, that’s it for this week. Tune in next time whenever we gather five more images for your viewing – and amusing – pleasure. Ta!