Oh my God! The horrors I have seen on the catwalks!

 Fashion has always escaped me. I have no idea how to layer, colour co-ordinate or accessorise. Most days, I look like a hobo. So I cannot, for the life of me, understand the appeal of Fashion Week. I always feel like running up on to the catwalk and giving one of those poor thin models a big fat hamburger. Or tucking their breasts back into their shirts. Or just tickling them to get a smile out of them. Why do they have to look so miserable? It must be taught at modelling school.

Lesson 1: Pretend this lettuce is a really juicy steak.

Lesson 2: Allow random body parts to pop out of your clothes.

Lesson 3: Never, ever, look like you are enjoying yourself.

 I know they’re on a catwalk, but why do their faces have to look like cats’ bums? Sorry, I’m rambling. This blog is supposed to be about the clothes.

  Each year, an especially unwearable item becomes the new “must have”. (Why does everything have to be the new black? What’s wrong with the old black?) At Sydney Fashion week this year it was the mantan. For the uninitiated, it’s a kaftan for men. Think Demis Roussos, the Greek singer from the 1970’s.
  To give it a fresh look, the designer strapped a pillow to the back of the embarrassed-looking model. The purpose of this was unclear. Is it similar to an airbag to protect him from falling flat on his back? Maybe he’s a human Bounce Back toy? Or maybe it’s foreplay. Gives new meaning to the term sleeping around.
  Then there were the flame-haired super mutants, who looked like characters from a sci-fi comic book. It was an explosion of colour, according to the fashionistas. More like a technicolour yawn. The models wore armour on their wrists and forearms, probably to protect them as they fight charges of misleading and deceptive conduct, for pretending such clothes are actually wearable.
  I guess they are, if you’re Wonder Woman. I, however, am Daggy Suburban Woman – guess I’m not the target market. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-designer. The Australian fashion industry provides jobs and brings in export dollars. Artists need to push boundaries.
 But, for most of us, fashion is all about comfort. Give me a t-shirt and jeans; and on a special occasion, a nice frock to hide the tummy. Maybe our fashion retailers would be in better shape if designers made clothes that were flattering, and not fanciful.