Gen Art: As Posted on Elle

It takes more than a creative spirit and a pretty face to make it in the fashion business. Season One Project Runway winner (and former Gen Art contestant) Jay McCarroll has had his share of ups and downs, his fifteen-plus minutes of fame, and a realigned set of “I’m going to make it in New York fashion!” dreams. But somehow, the designer has admirably managed to maintain an unflinching sense of wit and humor throughout the process. So ELLE.com enlisted him to head to this year’s Gen Art Styles show and take stock of the talent pool, then pen a personal essay on rising stars, reality checks, and how to blow the judges’ minds. The result is Jay McCarroll, uncensored and (mostly) unedited. Gen Art holds a very special place in my heart. Working with them was my first true experience in the real New York fashion world. Coincidentally, it was my involvement with them that also led to Project Runway.

Back in the day, almost ten years ago, my now-colleague Clara Prezio-Henry from Philadelphia University suggested that I enter this contest. Its intention was to find the best new undiscovered fashion talent from across the globe. The contest was the Styles International Design Competition, now affectionately known as just plain ol’ “Styles”. I got the contest information and went right to work in my little basement work studio in West Philadelphia that I could barely stand up in. I created two looks inspired by hemoglobin and I quilted and embroidered fabric in patterns of arteries and blood cells. I also used ace bandages to create a knit and made an ever-so-fashionable sling. I even housed my final looks in hospital-issue blood bags. It was really a pretty cool packaging idea, if I do say so myself. I was elated to find out that I was chosen as one of the five finalists in the avant garde category. Could this be the big break I was searching for?

I traveled from Philly to New York with my friend Erik and some other friends from college who were living in New York met us at the show. I had fluorescent pink hair and I wore an all white, “doctor of the future” ensemble complete with a lab coat. Show time. I was so f$#@ing nervous. I think I had the second to worst look in the category. I got beat by this bitch who had already shown at the Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art or something like that. I remember telling everyone that story. I mean, how could I compete with that? I was sewing in a basement. There was brick dust on all of my fabric. She made a dress out of a long zipper. She was the star of the show. I was just the weirdo from Philly with a dream of living in the world of high fashion in New York City.

I entered again the next year and, to my surprise, I made it in, with entries in menswear and a special contest sponsored by Beefeater Gin. My menswear was inspired by white collar versus blue collar workers. I thought it was a clever idea. Commentary on the roles of men in society, blah blah blah. One look was a glamorous mechanic’s uniform with a lavender shirt with a blue collar, get it? And a name tag that read “Butch”. He wore gloves with rhinestones.

I headed back to the show for the second time. This time I’m confident that I’m gonna win this shit. Menswear comes out. I’m not the worst. The winner is announced. It’s not me. I’m bummed. I’m a loser. Well, I still have a chance at winning the Beefeater thing. And the winner is….not me. I also lost out on $10,000, which as all young designers who are doing their work in a basement know, could really help. Free gin? You better believe I’m going to drink as close to $10,000 worth of gin as I can. Bastards.

 

 

Cut to a year later: same shit, different year. I decide to do menswear inspired by September 11th. Not the best idea. Actually, it was really beautiful, and it was titled “New Amsterdam” and was all about old New York and the values and hard work that this city was built upon. I screen printed the New York skyline with the Twin Towers and the exact moment the second plane was coming in, but replaced the plane with a flying bird. Where all of the smoke was, I embroidered flowers and insects and dots and sequins and happy things. The rest of the look was very upbeat. Ombre plaids and polka dots and stripes and optimistic colors. I guess they weren’t feeling it. At the show, all of the menswear looks were grey. I think this is when everything started to change. Everything became so serious. Thank you Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, or George Bush, or whoever thought that whole 9-11 thing up.I was also chosen as a finalist in a side contest sponsored by Perrier. That year I pretended I lived in New York, setting up a fake studio at my friend’s apartment in Washington Heights, because I somehow thought that I had to live in New York to win at this damn show. Five finalists, three from New York, one from Los Angeles, one from backwoods North Carolina or some shit. Guess who wins? Yep, the chick from the trailer park. Three years. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. I’m officially over Gen Art and that damn Styles competition. Go f$#@k yourself, New York fashion!

Flash forward. I get an email from Gen Art who is helping to cast fashion designers for a new reality show. The rest is history.

 

We have come full circle. I am back at the Gen Art styles show almost ten years later. This time I am there representing ELLE magazine and am sitting in between lovely ladies from Henri Bendel and Barneys. I would like to give a big shout out to my new buddy Cece who was so much f$#@ing fun! Her commentary and wit saved me. Radiance.I attended the evening’s festivities with my dear friend Ann Yee who will hopefully get her ass to enter this competition in the near future. She is like Anna Sui but without an “a” and a “Sui.” My other cohort in crime was ELLE’s very own Ms. Tracey Lomrantz, whose groundbreaking work you may recognize from this here site. She has inspired us with compelling blog entries such as “Ashley Olsen shows love for Calvin Klein” and “Rogan for Target debuts at Barneys.”

Okay, show time. Robert Verdi hosts. I want to hate him because I think he is kind of tacky with those sunglasses atop his head. I get it. It’s signature. It’s covering an insecurity for being bald. We all have our things we do to hide what we hate about ourselves. In any case, he is my new hero. He is a breath of fresh air in group of fashion freaks with sticks up their anorexic, tanorexic and manorexic asses. He hosted this event once before and he was so damn funny. Shortly after that I saw him at that amazing garage flea market in Chelsea on 25th or 26th. I wanted to introduce myself, but I hate bugging famous people while they are doing mundane things. I know what it feels like. Its like, hello…I am buying toilet paper, I’m not really in the mood to talk about whether you think Tim Gunn hires blatino twink escorts. In any case, I didn’t bug him.

 

 

We are sitting front row and there is a very high runway and if you wanted to you could see up the little dresses to vaginatown. The judges are sitting directly across from us. I think. Once again, the runway is so high that you can only see their hands as they wave when being introduced. Marc Ecko has a hairy wrist with a big ol’ diamondy gold watch.

Each category showcases five designers, two looks per designer, ten looks total. The looks come down the runway and then are judged live by the, well, judges. There is then some pretentious English voice announcing that the votes were being tabulated and that the winner would be announced after Jay and Tracey and Cece were finished talking smack about the work. In past years they had performances such as a scantily clad girl spinning around in the air on a piece of spandex during this tabulation period. No such entertainment this year.First up is, shit, I can’t remember the order these things went in so let’s break this down by category.

Women’s ready-to-wear: The standouts for me were the black quilted leather power suits of Hannah Marshall and Jonathan Saunders knock off artist Yujin Song. Dieu ex Machina was super boring. Um…a black satin cap sleeve knee length dress? Is this really the best ready-to-wear you could find out of more than 800 entries from 31 states and 35 countries? And the winner is Yujin Song. As Robert Verdi said, clearly the best work of the group. And why? Because although it was knock off-y, it was colorful with a powerful silhouette and amazing seaming details and trippy symmetrical print.

Women’s eveningwear: The best of the group were Karen Song’s pleated and ruffled cocktail dresses in grey suiting and black organza and Louisa Parris’ large flowing color-blocked silk gowns. Very airy and fresh and again, big doses of color. This boldness in design garnered her the win in this category. Well deserved! Julianna Bass showed black satin dresses with bows and slightly interesting silhouettes. The most disappointing was definitely the ombre rectangle with elastic at the bust and 12 inches of gathering at the side seam. Revolutionary. What is this shit? What delusional editor or stylist sat in the selection committee and said, “Wow, this piece of fabric is really going to push the boundaries of the future of fashion.” PS: Eveningwear doesn’t have to mean black satin. I would have loved to see some more color in there.

 

Menswear: This is always a hard category because we are trained to think that men don’t take risks in fashion. I now see this is due in part to the designers not taking risks. My favorites of this bunch were category winner Timothy Franklin and Carola Euler’s modern, effortless street-savvy looks in shades of white, grey and black. Again, I would have loved to have seen a jolt of color in there. The other three competitors showed utterly wearable and derivative looks. Stewart Randolph’s looks were ripped straight off the backs of your everyday New York street urchin in Union Square. In fact, Cece said her sister, who is a freshman in college, wears that same exact outfit every day. Clearly not breaking any molds. Riya Hayama was smoking a bit too much Mary Jane when designing these Nirvana looks. Overall…disappointing.Oh, I forgot to mention that the show was sponsored by Botox, which led Robert Verdi into some pretty heated commentary territory. He decided the awards were to be named after the queen of Botox herself, Nicole Kidman. I’m pretty sure that the Botox folks weren’t thrilled with all of the jokes. The crowd on the other hand…totally entertained. Also, Kara Saun from season one of Project Runway was there to hand out trophies to the winners. Apparently she is the spokesperson for underarm sweating and I guess Botox helps out with that. I will refrain from any kind of commentary. I like Kara Saun and I’m sure she got herself a good deal. I hope that Botox helps to get you a sweet apartment in the hills. I tried to see her backstage but I couldn’t find her. So many f$#@ing people guzzling free drinks.

Back to the show.

 

 

Accessories: The standouts in this category were definitely Lady Gray’s oxidized and found objects and apocalyptical chain necklaces, and Saya Hibino’s gold and diamond organic ring and cuff. Both very experimental but still quite user friendly. The rest were just eh: a black strappy pump by Bionda Castana Milano and organic lumps of gold posing as rings by Ninaki, the category’s winner, were certainly well made but not mind blowing by any means. I must admit the lumpy feather blimp pump by LD Tuttle made me chuckle. Accessory design is the perfect place to really explore color, shape and proportion, as most women aren’t willing to commit to an entire over-the-top ensemble. I’m not quite sure I saw as much experimentation as I would have liked in this category.Avant garde: I can honestly say nothing stood out to me in this group. When I think of avant garde I think of recycled shit or fabrics used in a way that I have never seen or even thought of, as Cece and I came up with, using human fetuses to make supple bomber jackets. This “avant garde” was what the women’s ready-to-wear should have been. I want to be blown away when I come to a fashion show like this and I look to the avant garde category to do it for me. These looks all fell short. Thanking her sponsor?…Marie Potesta wins the category.

Show’s over. I try to get backstage to see Kara Saun but too many people are smashing into one another clamoring for attention or drinks or a one-night stand. The corporate people spot me and I make a beeline to the door. Ann and I then head across the street to Chipotle for a burrito and chips and guacamole. Oh, I must mention that it was great running into Project Runway alums Erin the model from season one, Alison Kelly from season two, and Jillian Lewis from season four. Always good to see Heatherette’s Richie Rich, who is always so f$#@ing nice.

All and all I must say that I wasn’t as impressed with the work I saw at this show as I have been in past years. I remember being genuinely blown away. Maybe it was the talent pool this year. Maybe it was the people in the selection committee. I think it was a little bit of both. Either way, everyone involved needs to let loose and really think about what the intention of this show is. It is to find new talent. Interesting talent. And if nothing else, it is to entertain the crowd at a big ol’ fashion show at the Hammerstein Ballroom once a year. I’m pretty sure a lot of people walked away thinking about that boring black satin cap sleeve dress as much as I did. Is this really the future of New York fashion? I guess it will take the next few years to really be able to tell where these designers will end up.

 

 

I  appreciate the role Gen Art plays in fostering and unearthing new talent. It is truly the best, if not the only, group of its kind in New York at this level. I am thankful for my involvement in the Styles show of yore. It was the beginning and an important stepping stone for my career and my confidence. I think it’s a great outlet for young designers to showcase their work. I will say that no matter who you are or what awards you win or don’t win, fashion is an extremely complicated business. There are many facets to fashion and it takes time to marinate and find where you belong or even if you belong. You are not a failure if you are not Donna Karan. I’m pretty sure there are days when Donna Karan doesn’t even want to be Donna Karan.Here’s my challenge for next year: You have a year to sort this out. I want to be blown away! Designers, lets amp it up and make some really inspiring and thought provoking work. Selection committee, pull your head out of your affected asses and think for yourselves, not what you’ve heard, not what you’ve seen, but what you feel!

Visit jaymccarroll.com for my gear and jaymccarrolldocumentary.com to find out where my documentary film Eleven Minutes will be playing all summer.

 

Pizza Wheel

Blahg

Hello again. I am officially a crappy blogger. I have some kind of
problem. It all started with the Project Runway blog I did for Elle
Magazine. I couldn’t just write a few lines. I had to write an insanely
thorough recap of every episode. It took me forever to write that damn
thing every week. I would sit on the floor of my living room with the dvr
and the remote for what seemed like 19 years. I loved what I wrote and the
readers did too. I think I am feeling that same pressure for brilliance
for this blog. Did I seriously just write that? I need some humble pie or
something. I need a reality check. I know you don’t care how I write or
even what I write as long as I am writing something. I know I know. Ok, so
what have I been up to you ask? Well, I’ve been a busy little beaver.

I, for the record, right now am listening to the new Madonna album Hard
Candy. It has been playing on repeat for the past 5 days. I am kind of a
Madonna fanatic. She could make an album about using Q-tips and shoveling
snow out of the driveway, and I would be all over it. As with most Madonna
albums, the music and beats rock and the production value is insane, but
the lyrics are pretty stupid. I mean who could forget “go to Texas, isn’t
that where they play golf” on I love New York off of the Confessions
album. I don’t give a shit, I blare it and sing along and love it! As for
this album, I am really digging it, I must say. I love Candy Shop, Miles
Away, Incredible, Beat Goes On and Dance 2night. I skip Spanish Lesson.
Not my favorite track. The beats are awesome though. I was pretty
frightened when I heard that Madonna was teaming up with Timbaland, Justin
Timberlake and Pharell to do a hip hop album, but I think it sounds fresh
and still very Madonna. You gotta give to her, she certainly knows how to
market herself. 50 years old and still relevant and still kicking ass. I
think she is showing a whole generation that nothing in life is
impossible. I’m officially obsessed.

So, this week I got back from my whirlwind film festival trip to Toronto,
Miami and Boston. It was pretty amazing! First of all, I can’t believe I
made it through all of those flights. I am not the best flyer. I need
major drugs to cope and even then my brain still talks to me about the
fact that I am up inside of a tube in the clouds with other people sitting
in rows. Thank you Klonopin. I embarked on this adventure with my pals and
co-directors of the film Michael Selditch and Rob Tate. We had such a
great time in each city. We started off in Toronto at the Toronto Hot Docs
festival. Toronto is so clean and interesting and the people are sexy and
effortless and most importantly nice. I felt like I was in Amsterdam
again. I would definitely love to go back and spend some time there
exploring the city. The screening went great and I appreciate all of the
great feedback we got about the film and the tremendous support from the
all of the awesome people we came across. I could totally imagine myself
fleeing America and living in Canada. You never know. I’m too old for the
draft right? I am fat and have flat feet anyway, so I’m not worried.

Next we went to Miami, which couldn’t be more of a polar opposite setting
than Toronto. We went from barely budding spring trees and brick mixed
with modern glass architecture to lush palm trees, pink buildings and the
amazing blue ocean. In like 3 hours. Ahhhhh, flying! The Miami Gay and
Lesbian Film Festival was much different because we had a fashion show to
do while we were there so the stress level was a little bit higher. Not
much higher though. I refuse to let myself freak out about these things
anymore. I went through that once and you can watch it all play out in a
little film I’m in called “eleven minutes”. We stayed at a cute boutique
hotel called the Dorset in South Beach. We went to the opening ceremony at
a beautiful theater in Miami and afterparty at some kind of bird
aquarium…parrot something, parrot bay? Why cant I remember this? I’m a
dumbass. We saw penguins and drank peach vodka. I think I talked to a
million people that night. The weather was pretty amazing. The next day I
hung out with my co-pilot in crimeville, Mr. Dan Renzi, who some of you
might know from the real world Miami. Dan, if you are reading this, I
apologize. The true story, of seven strangers picked to live in a house
and have their lives videotaped to see what happens when…..I just had to.
We ate sushi and spent the afternoon preparing for the rooftop fashion
show.  We steamed clothes and did model fittings. Somehow intermingled in
there I had to go to the screening and then back to the hotel for more
preparation and then back to the screening for a question and answer
session. I made it back to the hotel just in time to finish up my duties
and get to the fashion show. I didn’t even have time to take a shower.
Nasty! The show went great and all of the models were fabulous and so
sweet and accommodating. I would also like to give a big shout out to the
amazing team that helped me out. All of the dressers and make-up and hair
teams and of course Lisa and Dan who put the whole thing together. I
totally couldn’t have done it without all of you! There are so many people
that make it possible for me to put my name in the back of a shirt. I
thank you! We then had a free day in Miami so I got caught some rays and
chatted with some nice folks. We walked around for hours and got food in
this little Spanish area. I was going to say it was called Little Areola
but somehow I don’t think it was called that. Little espana way? I don’t
know. Anyway, we had a nice time in Miami! We really made an effort to go
out and party it up but it seems we were all too tired. Just a bunch of
old men. Good bye Miami! Next stop, Boston.

I felt like I was in a time warp here…from spring and sunny to hot and
palm trees to cold rainy and cloudy, all in three days. The next and last
festival we attended was the Independent Film Festival of Boston. We
landed and then went to an animation studio that Michael is friends with.
It was pretty awesome. It was in an old warehousey artist studio
environment. They do animation for all sorts of companies. Really cool
stuff! Guess what, I cant think of their name either. I need to start
paying attention to these things. They were very accommodating and showed
us the behind the scenes animation laboratory that they create all of
their magic in. they even let me take a snooze on their couch. We went to
the hotel and went to California Pizza Kitchen which was damn good! I tend
to love chain restaurants. Don’t even get me started on the amazingness
that is Red Robin. A tower of onion rings with yummy salty dipping sauces.
I can think of nothing finer in life. I’m totally serious! Anywho, we had
the screening in the beautiful Somerville theater. The screening went
great and again, thank you to all of the nice people who I met and that
took time to come out and see the film. I appreciate it! I must apologize
to all of you out there that came to the first screening thinking I would
be there. I guess there was a mix up with the day I was coming by some
media outlet. Hopefully I will be back in Boston for something or another
someday. PS: the lounge area that they had set up at the theater was mind
blowing! We got all sorts of goodies, t-shirts and buttons and a great
looking bag and jelly beans and ate Chipotle veggie burritos and most
importantly played rock band which completely blew my mind! I played drums
and sang and totally sucked at the bass guitar. A shout out to my band
mates that I jammed with. So f#$%ing fun!!! That was it. Back to the
hotel. Caught a train back to Philly in the morning.

The train from Boston to Philadelphia is really cinematic. From the small
town city look of Boston through the seaside shanty Martha Stewarty
Connecticut to big ole New York and then Philly. Really interesting!  I
got back in the evening on Tuesday and crashed. The next day I spent
planting flowers, herbs and veggies for my back patio and roofdeck and
then I was off to the annual Philadelphia University Fashion Show at the
gorgeous Academy of Music. The show went well. It’s always kind of
challenging for me to see so many different points of view on one stage.
The DJ was great and there were some really nice moments in the clothes.
It was also good to see some of my students not wearing sweatpants and
really celebrating their first big fashion moment. Hopefully it will be
the first of many. Francisco Costa of Calvin Klein received an award and
was in attendance. I of course didn’t meet him. Everyone said he was nice,
which is good to hear.  I met up with my friends Jeremy and Sven after the
show and we reeked some havoc. I will say the highlight of my evening was
finding a whole pizza in the garbage at a little pizza joint by the after
hours gay bar and putting it on someone’s bike wheel. It looked like the
wheel was made out of pizza. We now refer to it as “pizza wheel”. How
clever right? Its so stupid but we took pictures of it and drove away and
then drove back and parked and watched to see if anyone would notice the
pizza wheel. We were waiting to see the owner of the bike would come out
and what they would do. We took even more pictures of it. If I could
figure out how to do it, I would post some pictures here of it for your
enjoyment. We will see. We passed it the next day and the bike was in the
same spot but the pizza was gone. We figured that someone probably ate it.
Why not? It was a perfectly good pizza pie. It just so happens to have
been a wheel too. On that note. I am outta here. Thanks for stopping by.

Later dudes!