The Comeback

Gypsy Sports post-pandemic awaited return to New York Fashion Week successfully secured an extra night in the city's ongoing heatwave. Tropical storm posh Island vibes set off guests' arrival to the tenth anniversary of Gypsy Sport. I have never been a punctual person, as it runs in my family, and so I assumed that everyone waiting at the less-than-glamorous ferry port was just as stressed about not being let into the show. Yes, embarrassingly enough, it has happened to me before. I was used to showing up to shows and reporting independently, but something about this show from the jump made me more self-aware. And as much as those on the crowded ferry tried to hide it, I could tell they felt the same, to varying degrees. Then, halfway there, we became fully aware of the trials the models would be facing as the ferry began nauseously rocking back and forth in the storm. Most of us didn't bring umbrellas. In a muddy mess of a runway, the storm had brought. I am one of the few people of New York who will admit to being amongst struggling artists, so the $9 corona, the cheapest drink at the tiki bar, particularly stung as I tried to gather myself and my soaking wet belongings. In my annoyance, I attempted to socialize and, as with every fashion week since the pandemic, realized how different this year's was from last.

People are a little less open to talking to unrecognizable faces but nonchalant about getting pictures taken by strangers. Still, I couldn't shake or understand the feeling that I wasn't as prepared as usual. When I was informed by another writer that the runway was actually a swirling path through the river and muck of what was supposed to be a sandy beach, it was confirmed that none of us were. While the sober photographers threw indirect and passive-aggressive remarks at the chain smokers, I, as a stylist, was slightly appalled and intrigued at what the hour-long show would look like. I could only imagine how stressed everyone was on the other side of Gintamos and how much of a force this would have to be on everyone's part if it was to be a success. Unsurprisingly, like all the other shows of Fashion Week, the DJ began, and the models finally showed up striding like they would on any other catwalk. And then 49 seconds passed, and they were either stomping and sinking bare toes in deep puddles or jumping right over them- honestly, I thought it was so natural compared to the other shows I had been to, and while clearly unplanned it might've worked to designer Rio Uribe's advantaged in a memorable return runway show that show hopping attendees wouldn't soon forget. Only cheering from the crowd could be heard.

The models themselves? Surprisingly, a mix of familiar NYC underground ballroom/DJs and newly scouted fresh faces stormed the runway. Along with that, the rest of their personal family/community showed up for them, adding a personal touch to Gypsy Sport's return, a sort of family affair. Ironically, only one model was dressed for the weather in a beautifully embroidered pink poncho with pink and orange flowers. As a streetwear brand, the basic necessities were included- cropped denim vests and skirts, some solid blue jeans of varying shades, and some mixed with sequins. Jerseys transformed dresses with poofed-up chiffon trims, frayed trims, and a couple of sequin patterns here and there. Two-piece or a sequin trimming in a suit with matching booty shorts. Very on brand for NYC queer partygoers, night and day, as there were also two-piece maroon and pink suits (styled, of course, with only top pieces for a sexier touch) and along with silk button-ups. Surprisingly, a pair of black light-up sneakers stomped on through as well, with a pink bomber jacket to match, of course. However, my favorite piece had none of the American flag on it- a sheer white dress trimmed with matching white feathers and pink crochet patched over breasts and butt with beige open-toed wrap-up heels that this particular model chose to stomp through the river of a puddle in. Lastly, of noted mention was the “Haturn” logo on all bags worn- this year's long strap pocketbook bouncing off the hips of the models.

All unisex, of course, as Gypsy Sport boasts and continues to live up to its inclusive wardrobe promises. From the perspective of a designer and struggling seamstress (lol), the cut, trims, and silhouettes were beautifully crafted. And the colors were wonderfully choreographed for the first half of the show. However, maybe just as a personal trait, I did get lost in the red, whites, and blues, and once I see a star-spangled banner crop top, I mentally check out a bit. I struggled to connect the meaning. The concept of the American flag on these particular communities' bodies was wildly jarring. The only reassuring clue was on a black denim jacket with the words primarily embroidered "American Legacy" with Native American accents. Perhaps, too, is why the model of honor, Dominique Jackson (huge fan), walked in red, white, and blue strips of crocheted fabrics with freeing gaps between each color. Ultimately the style of this collection portrayed the vibrant and diverse life of the NYC queer community. Sexy nightlife life, the annoying but necessary 9-5 we all must beautifully suffer at, and the political heaviness we must grapple with on the daily.

Photo © Gorunway, Kaicy Naranjo

Illustrations © Nastasia Guthrie