When you go to Fashion Week, make sure you're sitting somewhere between Leslie Jones, Vanessa Williams, Patricia Clarkson and Gina Gershon. Accept nothing less.
The four extraordinary actresses were joined on the front row at Christian Siriano's brightly colored, whimsical Spring Summer 2018 runway show by Danielle Brooks, Lizzo, Jillian Hervey and Lili Reinhart, all of whom seemed to be having the time of their lives. It looked like my Netflix queue brought to life or "The Last Supper" featuring only Best Supporting Actress nominees who should already have won and I am 100% here for it.
Real talk: this is the image that greets you when you get to Heaven.
And I should know because, sitting across from them at the show, I actually died. RIP me. A ghost is writing this. Boo, et cetera.
Despite the fact that I am a world-renowned fashion maven, Christian Siriano's was my first New York fashion show. Slightly nervous, I arrived at Chelsea's Pier 59 way early and just stood around trying to look haute. For some reason, I decided to kill time by eating (the secret of my success) so I got a surprisingly messy chicken salad wrap and ate it on a street corner. Iconic.
Scarfing down the wrap beside a trash can, I was suddenly seized with concern that a street style photographer would appear and try to take my picture which is actually an insane thought for many reasons. Delusional, but make it fashion.
Having managed to sate my hunger, I headed inside, ducking the nonplussed paparazzi.
Pier 59's Studio B features an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows that take in the Lower Manhattan skyline. Though there were enough high voltage stage lights to illuminate a Broadway show, the most prominent light source was natural. This is clearly intentional and feels beautifully symbolic. Siriano has made a name for himself as an enthusiastic designer for a diverse array of looks and body types. He's worked with Payless (who provided all the shoes for this show) and he's dressed Michelle Obama, making him both accessible and aspirational. Bathed in the late summer afternoon sunlight, the whole room seemed to say "look how you look and feel fabulous about it."
Feeling the most fabulous: Leslie Jones, whom Siriano dressed for last year's Ghostbusters premiere after the star tweeted about having trouble finding a designer.
Leslie. Was. Gagging! The normally ebullient comedian was especially hype for the entire show, clapping, howling, elbowing Gina Gershon in the ribs. Have you ever, in your life, elbowed Gina Gershon in the ribs?! No, you have not and if you tried it she'd sprinkle marbles under your feet like Nomi did in Showgirls.
The SNL star's energy was matched by the joyous collection which Siriano calls "almost a psychedelic hallucination of what's inside my fantasy greenhouse."
That vision translated into capital G gowns that were at once form-fitting and voluminous. Brightly colored silhouettes would suddenly explode with fabric: a huge bustle, a poof sleeve, a tulle skirt pouring out of a strappy slip top.
Leslie was loving all of it. A sunflower yellow gown elicited an audible "wow" as she threw her head back. The next one got the same and a snap. By the last one she was reaching out to grab the hem.
The capacity crowd was also living for Siriano's patterned suits, featuring a heavily textured fabric that looked, in the best way possible, like your aunt's couch.
This is not a read! I'm talking about the cool aunt who always has a couple of Euros in her purse and never married because "who has the time?" and is always just getting back from Minsk or Art Basel.
Look for me in this all next year, thanks.
By the end of the show, Christian's whimsy and Leslie's enthusiasm had spread throughout the whole room.
Model Coco Rocha emerged in an tornado of tulle and literally everyone started screaming. Chaos.
Leslie threw up her hands and cried out "I love you Coco! I love you!"
When you get dressed tomorrow morning, no matter what body you're in, imagine you're wearing the bright, beautiful vision of Christian Siriano and Leslie Jones is yelling encouraging things at you at a very close distance. It's fashion.
Follow R. Eric Thomas on Twitter.
