Becca Flood’s "Where Do All the Weird Girls Go?" Was an Ordinary Paradise

Guests at Becca Flood’s debut NYFW runway, having just taken the elevator to the building’s third floor, all packed in together like sardines, were greeted by a sunlit room with the city’s September air flowing through the open windows. Awaiting them were neon green packets detailing the show, and neon orange pocket notebooks, produced by Ugly Books, each with the words “WHERE DO ALL THE WEIRD GIRLS GO?” and an illustration of a border collie etched into the cover.

Flood’s inspiration for the show was her own border collie TigerLily, who passed away last summer. 

“When she died, I told my father that I wish I could believe in a heaven or an elsewhere,” Flood said. “Not in an abstract sense, but in the particular, ordinary paradise I wanted for her: a field she knew, apple trees heavy with blossoms, watching over the land she loved. He answered, ‘Maybe you can, for her.’ This collection is my attempt at that.” 

The collection explored what grief, gratitude, and weird girls mean for the world — both in the present and after. 

Grief is something often categorized by a gloomy, dim atmosphere, but Becca Flood did not shy away from those feelings. Each model who walked down the runway wore an ensemble straight from Flood’s version of the afterlife. 

The first model sported a hand-knit mini dress and leather jacket, and the last, an ivory and charcoal ruffled dress. Whether the model wore linen culottes or a brown and blue mermaid skirt, a coral dress or a mini dress embroidered with lilies, each outfit worked to bring about a vivid, uniquely personable scene. By mixing the bright feelings with the dark ones, the light fabrics with the heavy ones, her collection embraced the intricacies of utterly complex emotions. 

The cosmetic direction added even more depth to the show. The makeup, led by Michelle Web, was doll-like — models had a natural flush and their eyelashes resembled those of Twiggy’s. The hair, led by Aubrey Loots, embraced imperfection. Frizzy curls, messy braids, teased volume, just one piece out of place further immersed the audience in Flood’s creation. 

The almost surprising composition of the collection mirrored that of what Flood worked towards. In her show synopsis, she wrote that “These are the clothes I wish to meet her [Tigerlily] in.” 

Flood’s attempt brought each viewer closest to their own version of the afterlife. They are the clothes Flood herself wishes to meet TigerLily in, and they are the clothes that each person can meet their own TigerLily in. They are the clothes that brought each member of the audience, only an hour ago, all packed tightly into an elevator, to their own ordinary paradise.

Photos courtesy of Lindsey Media.