It’s what I do when my passions of food and fashion ignite into an unmeltable bond.
It’s what you would do if you saw exquisite fashion models draped in edible chocolate.
Lick. Thy lips, and thy thoughts.
And let your eyes taste the bodies wrapped in chocolate.
With all the excitement building up, I have to make a confession. Despite the edible chocolate show being a successful tale of the many affairs of chocolate, the chocolate fashion show and exhibit left more to be desired. It is a pity how the laws of physics can also apply to event management, where overall entropy must summate to null. A lukewarm show last year was matched by a dazzling plethora of fashionista chocolate. An indulgent affair this year with delectable concoctions was matched with a less-than-perfect show.
I believe the flaw was in the fact that chocolate was not creatively utilized as a medium of wearability, but rather an embellishment or accent. Barring a few contenders for playfully wearable chocolate, most were often bizarre, other times provocative, sometimes akin to film noir, all of which though did succeed in raising buzz for critical abandon and plausible acclaim alike.
The theme this year was playful and demanded a lot more glamor, glitz and flamboyance than it was given. Broadway.
When glitterati and melodrama are offered as props, it comes as a surprise when most creations are caricatures that evoke a sense of déjà vu. Nevertheless, some stars sparkled slightly more than others.
The most wearable of outfits was Roxie of Chicago, a gorgeously yummy colored and teasingly short dress with a smooth, solid chocolate hat and a seemingly chocolate cane. The dress itself was stitched of of net and sheer fabric, apt for draping with more chocolate, and was studded with chocolate flakes and sparkling Swarovski lookalikes. Charming and thematically fitting in the spirit of the evening.
Elegance rewrote its definition with The Chocolate Chang Song of Chi’nglish, a dress which, despite having lack of chocolate, was still graceful enough with the season’s favorite color, red. While the wraparound itself was entirely made of fabric, the oriental accents around the buttons, the headpiece, and neckwear were neatly crafted swirls of pliable chocolate, looking sturdy enough to hold the costume in place, and decadent enough to bite off, in anticipation of seeing the dress falling off!
The one that got all us men salivating was Cabarets of Paris. Ask any man what he likes in women, and the answer will always be breasts or butts. And this is what the designer chose aptly to cover (or rather, accentuate) with chocolate. Provocative chocolate spheres in suggestively large proportions were thrusted onto the breasts and decked with smaller, edible sized chocolate circles and a fresh-plucked red cherry as a nipple. Looking ripe enough to eat, it was no surprise that most guys were passing side glances and mischievous smiles at this outfit. Those preferring derrieres could fancy seeing humungous mounds of chocolate planted onto the model’s butts, looking touchable, alluring and intriguing all at once. With sheer bare minimums and lingerie completing the trick, this was one outfit that most could not wait to yank off, plough into, or simply nibble through.
The unfortunate costume of the evening was once again clad in white chocolate, one of my fundamentally least liked chocolates. Aiming to recreate Glinda the good witch, the only redeeming factor here was the detailed star wand, whose kaleidoscopic layers took my fancy, alongside that of other photographers. The shapeless gown itself looked like it was melting, literally, with the chocolate corset falling way below the hastily tied silken sheet like bustier, and an eerie sea-blue-green dyed skirt falling into an unintentional V. Dorothy would’ve much preferred wicked had it not been for the delightfully childlike wand.
The Adams family mess came close to this one, whose details and finery were too saturated with tangles and ruckus that took away from the deeper beauty of Morticia’s layer. Eyeballs netted like flies in a spiders web on a long evening gown draped in chocolate that seemed to irritate the long raven hair of a damsel clutching onto a chocolate set of twigs. It was ironically all quite decadent and ornate to look at in solitude, but completely fell apart together.
The most thematically coherent costume was from Lion King, epitomizing the tastiest villains of all time, Scar. This one again cheated on the fact that chocolate was not a central element of the costume, except for the detailed headpiece which was the mask of the grand lion himself, complete with golden whiskers, a regal expression, and fiery green eyes. This alone commanded all the attention from a dress that looked more like the backdrop of the Serengeti, with pale sand-like grace adorned with green leaves (some of these may be edible chocolate dyed down) and a sash of orange feathers and ruffles (which again were solid chocolate molded into sexy faux fur shaped swirls), all of which gave it a rugged, yet fashionable look.
And finally, possibly the best dress of the lot was Playbill of the 50s and 60s, paying homage to the ladies with frilly curls, large sunglasses, and flared frocks. The entire skirt was bricked up like a wall of chocolate posters of Playbill, with details melted in chocolate and coming to life in touchably three dimensional textures. Even the petite blouse was spilling with chocolate polka dots, making it a bow-worthy ode to the days of yore.
And thus ended an evening of my favorites and lesser preferred feasts for the eye. And yet, nothing really came to me as a bolt in my face, like the spectacle of last year’s plethora of outfits, many wearable and many beckoning chocolate to be their core identity. Yet, the Broadway theme and playful outfits gave the show what it needed most – buzz; something to talk about, for after all, sometimes that is all we need.
And thus concludes an annual event whose alluring feast for the eyes will linger on for many moments to come.
There are few times when food and fashion can blend so skillfully into one space.
This is one such point in time.
It leaves me breathless.
… Just don’t hold your breath till next year.