Telfar Clemens's clothes are telegenic. Made for reality TV, infomercials, video games. Pornography too, of the nineties mainstream — think a VHS tape starring a studly plumber, roofer, or doctor, someone who comes to service you. His work works best within media, as his looks look, even IRL, like image.
It is suitable then that the Telfar A/W 2014 presentation took place at the New Museum, in a multimedia set erected for the occasion. Downstairs in the lobby, a shop had popped-up. A lifesize uncanny valley effect 3D printed sculpture of the designer courted you in. The faux-real Telfar wore a t-shirt that said “CUSTOMER.” These were for sale, as were branded bags, photographic t-shirts, and dog tags; cash only, all goods priced between $100-$300.
Upstairs, a short défilé streamed. Models in Telfar’s signature “functional fashion” walked stiff one after another. Each strode to their own digital soundbite and posed to the same joshy “Tel-far!” (it was the sound of an avatar).
The look this season was three parts economic iconic — workwear, redacted (scrubs, garage jackets, and painters pants) — to one part domestic (bathrobes and its 21st century update, the Snuggie). A working class gang bang of a leisure class.
Telfar's presentation’s always chaste, though. The sexuality is only implied. Like that artist who edits the talent out of porn images, leaving us just with sets. They are so mundane. Or normal. “Extremely Normal™,” as Telfar signs his work.