Elena Velez has not been shy about her struggles trying to make it as a young designer. On Tuesday night she staged a runway show that could have been a metaphor for the whole, messy experience – and really the whole messy experience of womanhood, too.
In a steamy Brooklyn warehouse Velez used a mud pit for a runway. Her “anti-heroines,” as she called them, with cracked white paint on their bodies and in their hair, trudged through “a literal swamp,” struggling with every step, as their Nike sneakers, slides and high heels sank into the ooze.
As a spectator standing in the crowd around the pit, all one wanted to do was reach out and lend a hand as women in gorgeously humble ivory linen, cotton, denim and silicone latex Guinevere gowns, corseted dresses, lingerie layers, elongated jackets, jeans and thermals made their way through the allegorical muck.
Did it descend into a playful mud wrestling finale? Or course it did.
What did it all mean? Well, Velez wasn’t talking. She let a “manifesto” do that for her.
“We have lost touch with our gift and responsibility to paint a truthful and beautiful picture of our times. It feels to me like the sanitization and unilateralization of womanhood in popular culture today leaves no room for the nuance and multiplicity we deserve as architects of labyrinthine interior lives.”
Guess Velez was not a fan of Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie.”
“‘The Longhouse’ is both a celebration and exorcism of contemporary feminine influence,” she wrote in her manifesto.
The designer’s talent is unmistakable, and her raw feminine aesthetic was executed beautifully on utility- strapped, out-seamed jackets and pants, an asymmetrical skirt gathered at the hip and many more commercial pieces. It feels more relevant than ever in a season when all anyone can talk about is Helmut Lang and the ’90s.
Velez has a talent for storytelling; she just needs money and support–a collaboration would probably help, too. There’s a lot to buy into with her emerging brand, even if it’s just one of those “Longhouse Glamour” trucker hats that came down the mudway. Wear one and you’ll be flying the flag for New York’s anti-fashion heroine.
