Keith David Girard’s ‘In a Cocktail Mood’ collection
Keith David Girard’s collection, “In a Cocktail Mood,” is based on 1950s motifs and the art of the beverage. It’s a chic yet quirky line designed to bring out the frivolity of alcoholic refreshments. Was he knocking back a few when the fashion muse descended? “Oh, no,” says the spiky-blond-haired Girard. “I don’t even drink that much. I just like the whole idea of the cocktail hour as a theme. Nobody really has little parties in their house anymore — it’s usually big keggers. I wanted something elegant, dressed-up.”
Girard, a native of Cranston, Rhode Island, entered Mass Art as a glass major, and even created a glass dress his freshman year. Soon after, he switched his major to fashion. He found the structure in the design program more to his liking; the meld of technicality and creativity was a good fit. “It helped me get more organized,” he says.
Elements that run through Keith’s collection are clean, slick, flowing lines, distinct silhouettes, big shoulders, cinched waists, and flirty stretches of glass and sequin ornamentation. His “white Russian” is a creamy-white vinyl body suit, high-necked and accented with crystal beads and hints of pale mink on the collar and waist. The “mai tai” is an explosion of tropical patterns with a bell-sleeved top over wide-legged pants; the “mint julep” is a refreshing green summer dress with an emerald-green fitted vinyl jacket. Alas, despite the Boston locale, one cocktail dress he didn’t serve up was the Cape Codder: “It sounded too Pilgrim-y to me,” says Girard.
Ideally, Girard would like to have his own shop, though he recognizes that he must pay his dues first. Pattern-making, which Keith enjoys, is definitely an option: “I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a studio doing that all day,” he says.
On pins and needles
With less than a week to go before their creations hit the runway, the four seniors still have hours of studio time ahead of them. Keith needs to put together review packets and work on “thousands of hems.” Ben is tinkering with accessories, Kristen needs to touch up a piece or two, and Doris is waiting on her glass crown and peapod-shaped belt buckles. There’s music to pick out, slides to be made, and all are scouting around for models and makeup people. Despite the lure of gorgeous spring weather, they’ll be burning the midnight oil at the sixth-floor studios.
New sets of threads
The big night finally arrives. At a table set up by the end of the runway, the king- and queenpins of the Boston fashion industry settle in to judge the senior fashion show. Meanwhile, backstage at the Cyclorama, the panic and stress are palpable. The scene is a study in states of dress and undress, played out before racks and racks of garments under plastic. The air is thick with Aquanet, the floor a minefield of curling irons, blow dryers, sandals, oversize earrings, and pagoda-like, multi-tiered makeup boxes, their contents spilling everywhere. Designers huddle with their models like football coaches with their players, pinning them into outfits, fussing with details, negotiating unwilling buttons, finicky clasps, and zippers that refuse.
Kristen calmly futzes with a bit of chain, attaching it to a halter top. “I’m not nervous — maybe I should be,” she says. “I have enough time. I’m all right.” Ben, standing amid a bevy of girls applying Edward Scissorhands–esque makeup to each other, engages in three separate conversations at once. “As you can see, I’m running around, the hair and makeup people dropped out yesterday, so it was kinda crazy,” he says. “I had to refit things at the last minute. These are all friends.” Keith, even from a distance, is visibly flustered. “It’s been a horrible and crazy day,” he says, sighing. Doris whizzes by in a blur, recognizable by her trademark “pea” hat, barely stopping to answer our inquiry. “I’m fine,” she snaps. This is, after all, a woman who has a stilt-walker to worry about.
Out front, camcorders dot the audience surrounding the runway. Vast quantities of bouquets, enough to fill a botanical garden, are at the ready. Anxious family members, friends, faculty, and well-wishers fill the round auditorium, ready to cheer on their favorites, while heavy beats play over the PA. You’d be hard pressed to find an objective opinion in the crowd, so we survey a few judges to find out what they hope to see from the almost-fresh-out-of-fashion-school set.
Looking smart in a simple, collared black dress, Boston Globe fashion writer Tina Cassidy says she’d like to see something fresh and new, with interesting lines and lots of color, but also “a little bit of sophistication, something that doesn’t look like a student design.” Platinum magazine fashion editor Libby Johnson, dressed in a springtime pale-pink-and-white-striped top and capri pants, says she’s on the look out for “a cut that hangs well, not necessarily clinging, but it has to be a powerful image with interesting colors.” Looking thoughtfully over his glasses, clothier Alan Bilzerian is anxious to see “where the first generation of an idea comes from.” He says: “I hope they can go further than just classroom mentality, because fashion is fantasy and so if you don’t fantasize, you’re not going to bring anything new to me.”
Ready-to-where?
By all indications, the show is a big success: Ben’s search-and-destroy look leads the show with a note of alterna-fashion; Keith’s cocktails prove appealing and refreshing; Kristen’s grrrls shock and amuse; and Doris’s Sweet Pea collection, with its towering mattress dress and flirty little pea girl, won’t soon be forgotten. But now that the runway’s cooled down and the grades have been filed, what’s the next step for the graduating designers? Where can they hope to land in this highly competitive business? New York, Paris, or the hometown rag trade? Professor Grace offers a retrospective view as a former Mass Art student herself: “When I attended Mass Art, fashion was always an art form. What’s different now is that students want to take that art form and really go into New York with it, or do the other side, the business part. We never had that responsibility. We were creating silhouettes that were going to change the way people dressed. We were artists. Nowadays, you have to be marketable.”
Possible sewing scenarios include positions as assistant designers in New York for labels such as Fossil or ABS, the company responsible for the Oscar-knockoff dresses, where the budding designers could contribute but obviously wouldn’t bear responsibility for carrying the label. Locally, you might expect to find the new graduates employed at Talbots or TJX, both companies that look to the new crop of fashion designers for their creativity as well as their computer skills. The graduates face a two-fold job-search challenge: they must market themselves as well as their skills. For many, the senior project will be the last time they’ll be able to do what they truly want. “The hardest reality is that this time at Mass Art and as a student is a time you can really experiment as an artist,” says Grace. “You feel the passion of being an artist, you feel the freedom of being an artist, and you’ll never have that freedom again.”
Suzanne Kammlott is a freelance writer living in Brighton. She can be reached at me@suzannekammlott.com.
