Assessing the tantalizing Twitter reports and continual viral streams from electrical pulses connecting the globe, the Mugler show thrusted into the limelight and became aflame with anticipation. After seeing the show initially, a miasma of disappointment swathed each image of each look.
However, it was a show that was heavily punctuated and rigorously loaded in a wave of drama and theatre, which is undoubtedly, what Thierry Mugler is all about. Yet this drama had to be manifested as an extension from the clothes, and this at times, seemed lacking. With a set drenched in darkness, a multitude of wooden arches to line the wide runway, the drama had already taken its course before the tortured creatures had stomped towering platforms upon the catwalk. Formichetti filtered the Mugler mass to target the trademarks such as extortionate proportions, morphing every aspect of what we know to be human and bringing a show. The opening look was a black pantsuit with exaggerated, curved shoulders which was appropriate as a beginner. More looks in and the silhouette of crushed in waists, encircling chests and curving the shoulders led to subtle re-arrangements with corsetry to tighten the designs which were washed with a tonic sheen.
Trying to avoid Gaga was tough. Aside from be musical director, previewing Government Hooker and melding Born This Way through blazing beats, she moved with anguish and strength to be fueled with rough energy to make her the unfortunate star of the show. Strapped in a black latex hobble skirt, sheer bodysuit, black bra and platinum bunchies, the sharp, highly sexualized bondage-esque skirt gave strong purpose and power. However, even with the heave of performance, some of the eveningwear which consisted of long black skirts with sheer inserts across the chest and sculpted outlines across the seams severely lacked potent personality or obtrusive imagination. A swamp of sheer dresses, serpentine fishnet in cobalt blue and constricting leathers gravitated unwaveringly to a sensation of simplicity and for me, boredom. Yet, hope lay masked ahead. Managing to remedy the virus of sheer, tight engineering was the use of fur. This cloaked the arm and sharpened shoulders with knife-like precision. Pinpointing this, black fur ruptured up the arm as animal print strode down the body to those gargantuan platforms welded to the frame. 
However, it was a show that was heavily punctuated and rigorously loaded in a wave of drama and theatre, which is undoubtedly, what Thierry Mugler is all about. Yet this drama had to be manifested as an extension from the clothes, and this at times, seemed lacking. With a set drenched in darkness, a multitude of wooden arches to line the wide runway, the drama had already taken its course before the tortured creatures had stomped towering platforms upon the catwalk. Formichetti filtered the Mugler mass to target the trademarks such as extortionate proportions, morphing every aspect of what we know to be human and bringing a show. The opening look was a black pantsuit with exaggerated, curved shoulders which was appropriate as a beginner. More looks in and the silhouette of crushed in waists, encircling chests and curving the shoulders led to subtle re-arrangements with corsetry to tighten the designs which were washed with a tonic sheen.
Trying to avoid Gaga was tough. Aside from be musical director, previewing Government Hooker and melding Born This Way through blazing beats, she moved with anguish and strength to be fueled with rough energy to make her the unfortunate star of the show. Strapped in a black latex hobble skirt, sheer bodysuit, black bra and platinum bunchies, the sharp, highly sexualized bondage-esque skirt gave strong purpose and power. However, even with the heave of performance, some of the eveningwear which consisted of long black skirts with sheer inserts across the chest and sculpted outlines across the seams severely lacked potent personality or obtrusive imagination. A swamp of sheer dresses, serpentine fishnet in cobalt blue and constricting leathers gravitated unwaveringly to a sensation of simplicity and for me, boredom. Yet, hope lay masked ahead. Managing to remedy the virus of sheer, tight engineering was the use of fur. This cloaked the arm and sharpened shoulders with knife-like precision. Pinpointing this, black fur ruptured up the arm as animal print strode down the body to those gargantuan platforms welded to the frame. 
Though scarce, some other looks in peach-toned latex and sheer black were bathed in flame-like coils around the torso or about the hips and were shorn into sharp curvature to accentuate a creature shedding its skin. ‘Anatomy of Change’ seemed clear, specifically with the collaboration with Rein Vollenga who created bone-like, muscular structures both above and undulating underneath some garments to broaden, mould, sculpt and contour the protrusions of the Mugler woman. The show took form of the Mugler name by the use of architectonic structures in latex which connecting around the shoulder and across the chest like technological flesh.
As Gaga’s conclusive performance marked the end of the debut, to me, it left a sense of unneeded repetition with an incoherent, obscure theme. Even with the spiky splashes that came from silhouettes and the complex use of material, compared to the Mugler style, it seemed vividly stark. Yet, perhaps this was simply laden with modernity which has moved Mugler away from the eighties vibe to a new, more mellow tune of simple silhouettes and dynamic drama. But it lacked the perpetual shock and drive I believed Mugler was about.
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