Cimmerian Allure

On a cold January day in Paris we see the resurrection of a brand, like a killer from a slasher film, what you thought was dead and lifeless opens it’s eyes and come screaming at you with knife in hand.  This was the case with Mugler’s Fall 11 collection.  Gone is the brand's founder and in his place an eager young team of image-makers, stylist Nicola Formichetti, designer Romain Kreme; and filmmaker Mariano Vivanco.

The clothes, not subtle or submissive, conjure monstrous hit men from a dark thriller. The cimmerian allure of the images leave me wondering if I should be running away or towards these men. 

 

I'm dancing the night away in an underground club in Prague.  The music lulls the crowd into one giant writhing mass.  The condensation from the hot bodies makes the air thick, and oppressive, but I can't stop.  But from the entrance of the club I feel a pair or eyes locked on me, it's a tattooed man with a look of dark determination in his eyes.  Fear washes over me and I make my way to the back door with him in pursuit.  I manage get out the back door and run down the back alley, and I run into a waiting taxi.  I pull out my key card and point at the address on it and the driver takes me to my hotel.

 

I pay the driver, and make my way into the hotel.  I head to the bank of elevators and head up to my room.  As the door opens I step out and walk to the end of the hall where I would find sanctuary.  I walk briskly to my room when I here the elevator doors open again. I turn around to discover a dark specter coming towards me, his face blacked out.  I run for my life, towards my room at the end of the hall.  I reach the door, frantically open the door and try to leave the mystery man outside but as the entrance cracks I feel his weight against me and we both fall in.  

 

He takes off his jacket as to do his work.  I'm crouched between the bed and plead for my life but there is no mercy in his eyes. He walks towards me grabs, wraps his fingers around my neck and squeezes. With every breath out, I feel his fingers tighten, the only thing I can think of doing is pushing my thumbs into his eye sockets, which besides his arms were the only human parts showing. I find the last ounce of energy and push my thumbs in, now what was once blue filled with red.  He screams and drops me and my body hits the desk and papers go flying along with a letter opener.  I run to grab the letter opener, he sees me and stumbles my way.  I grab the letter opener turn around, at once the letter opener, my assailant and myself become one, in a bloody mess. 

 

I manage to push his huge frame off of me and check to see if I've been hurt.  Fortunately all the blood on me was his.  There he lay bleeding on the old carpet, all I could do was look down on his broken body.  I sat ready with a vase in case he comes springing up towards me.  But he does no such thing, instead I hear him take his last breath an hour after.  I don't know what to do, what do I do with this large man that I've killed in my room.  Then I hear a phone ring, I listen for the source, it's coming from the inside pocket of his jacket.  I take it out and see it's from "Big Man".  I answer and a deep raspy voice says "is it done?", I ask "who is this?" The voice replies, "oh, you are still alive, I"ll send a cleaner." I did not know what a cleaner is, but I had to get out of there. I grabbed my valuables, coat, hat and ran out of there.  I tried to disguise myself as best I could tucking my dark hair in the coat and under the hat maybe no one would notice me.  As I enter the lobby I walk to the entrance and as I get leaved through the left doors I see a man come in on the right side.  He is dressed in a rubber smock, strange hat and doctor's bag. I don't wait to see what or who he is.  I look for a tiny bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town and get a room to rest and gather my thoughts. 

 I get my room and look into the mirror, how tired and pitiful did I look? I decided to take a shower and try to take a nap and devise my next move.  What was supposed to be a European vacation had turned into a nightmare, I was still bewildered to what I had gotten myself into.  I take a long hot shower and watch the bloodied water run down the drain, I could still feel my attacker's fingers around my neck.  I sit there till the water turns cold and then I come out and dry off.  As I am drying my hair I feel something is wrong, it had gotten darker.  I look towards the window and I see someone behind the curtains.  He charges me so fast the gauzy sheers come off and get caught on his face.  He throws me on the bed my mouth covered so I could not scream.  He pushes all his weight on me and I fall limp.  He asks me "if I move my hand you promise not to scream?", I shake my head yes, with every intention of screaming.  As he  moves his hands he feels me take a deep breath about to scream and pushes all the air out of my chest and I am left gasping.  "What do you want from me?" I wheezed.  He looked at me and said "you"........................

See the entire presentation at: http://www.style.com/fashionshows/review/F2011MEN-TMUGLER