Givenchy lets dogs out What of load of RUBBISH

Givenchy lets dogs out with late menswear show which had absolutely no imagination what so ever, you would be far better of going to the local charity shop and find better fashions

Marc Jacobs show that started two hours late is stuff of fashion legend or just conceited?

It looked likely that Givenchy's fall-winter 2011-2012 menswear show Friday would also pass into the annals of "la mode," after the fuses blew, plunging the crowd of fashion insiders into the dark and delaying the show by a whopping hour-and-a-half not that they actually would have missed that much. Better if the lights had stayed out than watch the rubbish passing off as fashion.

By the time the it got rolling, the show's theme with no imaginations came out as mad dogs matched the audience's mood of old has-beens mincing around each other: Bermuda shorts and silk shirts printed with rabid Rottweiler’s have never looked so appropriate for an occasion.
Across town and off to a late start, thanks to Givenchy British mad-cap John Galliano was up to his usual theatrical high jinx with a Rudolf Nureyev-themed collection that included a mini blizzard and sweaty, bare-torsoed ballet dancers which has all been done before because if you’re looking at the naked bodies you’re not looking at the rubbish they trying to call fashions what load of crap.
Utilitarian garb for the urban sophisticate was on offer at Dior Homme designer Kris Van Assche's signature line, while Brazil's Gustavo Lins showed off the skills he honed in architecture school skill I have known idea where they found that word, as skills is most certainly wasn’t.
Saturday's Paris menswear calendar includes shows by storied luxury labels Kenzo and Hermes and emerging talents Damir Doma and Bernhard Willhelm. Menswear week concludes on Sunday, and on Monday, the City of Light's three-day-long haute couture shows begin I wouldn’t waste my time in going to this Fars
GIVENCHY (WHO)
It's tempting to say that never before has a show's theme so perfectly expressed the audience's mood but what would these little Clichy click mincers really no, not much it would seem.
The boring show's hour-and-a-half-long delay was partially due to a power outage — the lights went out just as the first model took to the catwalk, forcing him to backtrack in the dark but that didn't help matters: After the show, many a frazzled fashion journalist, editor and stylist quipped, "I cannot believe I waited all that time for that and the London Times didn’t but went out for a nice cup of coffee and doughnut.”
The West Coast hip hop-inspired shirt and short ensembles paired with tights, in a concession to winter weather  were printed with growling Rottweiler’s, bits of foam flying from their menacing canines as we said just no imaginations you buy these things in most local traders street market and around £2.50.
Dog collars were the naturally the accessory of choice in the deloused mind which you could buy at any pet shop and make one yourself which look so much better.
Fur was also de rigeur. Boxy beaver coats were worn with matching beaver backpacks and fur baseball caps, pimped up with dog ears. The label's Italian-born designer picked up on the layered outerwear vibe that's permeated Paris collections from Louis Vuitton to Issey Miyake, piling leather blazers on top of bulky fur coats another load of complete rubbish.
Riccardo Tisci's bold exploration of street style has won him a devoted fan base, and it was easy to imagine that this hip hop-infused collection would strike chord with a certain demographic in Hollywood and beyond.
Just don't ask the snarling half-witted fashion editors to like it of course they not getting paid big BUCK$$$$£££££ now to say that are they?
JOHN GALLIANO
You know it's a Galliano show when clomping Russian emigres, tin cups tied to their waists and pots and pans strapped to their backs, share the catwalk with sixties swingers in painted-on pants and sweaty ballet dancers swathed in knit leggings just another load of crap with imagination .
Indeed, for Friday's theatrical blockbuster of a show, the British designer looked to dancer Rudolf Nureyev, who defected from the Soviet Union in 1961, for a collection steeped in Russian sensibility which such a laugh of a joke mot tat.
Biff fat Models in oversized fur hats and pasted-on beards, various utensils tied to their body with string opened the show, braving a blizzard of fake snow that stuck to their oversized woolen coats as they stomped down the runway. A pianist in full costume played strains of show tunes from "Fiddler on the Roof" on a mid-catwalk piano or I got these clothes cheap in the market but not fitting.
Then came Nureyev lookalikes in so called swinging sixties garb, complete with printed pants and velvet vests. After that, models in clingy knit dance garb  sweat pouring from their hairlines and glistening on their fat torsos minced their way along the catwalk, which was lined with ballet bars. The show closed with a band of turbaned aristocrats in harem pants made from flower printed silk a reference, the collection notes said, to the "sumptuous decadence" of Nureyev's later life the London Times closing notes Rubbish.
The show in pure Galliano, fashion in four very, very over-the-top crap acts.
And it wouldn't be complete without an encore appearance by the maitre himself. Dressed in fur hat shaped like the cap of some giant mushroom, Galliano took to the stage for a cocky strut, his chest puffed out like a proud rooster as the audience hooted its approval and look like a right twat.