It’s early evening when We trickle inTo an exhibition space at Gammel Strand, lining up flush against the walls.
Surrounded by a few unclaimed suitcases and a sizable crowd, a live saxophonist puffs a long, drawn-out note into her instrument. It’s magnetic, a little unsettling even. To that languid dance of notes, the first model steps down and around a snaking runway — a makeshift security lane created with retractable belt stanchions. She’s wearing a black mini skirt, a white shirt and above-the-knee leg warmers.
But it’s not just any mini skirt; it’s a clever little number with a waistband for a hemline, an open fly forming a small slit. And it’s not just any white shirt; it’s a blouse with boat neckline that’s quite literally taken to new heights. Oh, and those chunky leg warmers? They’re seemingly made out of a Samsonite bag, with zippers running up, down, and sideways along the model’s legs.
Then, the next “traveler” meanders down the runway in a floor-length gown made entirely out of suit sleeves, wrapped and tied to show slivers of skin. As more models appear on the runway, they organize themselves into a queue for a make-believe security checkpoint. There’s collective annoyance on their faces as they wait together, shifting from one foot to another and throwing their heads back in boredom.