Fug Girls: Fleshy Fun and Lil' Kim at The Blonds

Photo: Fernanda Calfat/2012 Getty Images

The Blonds is always the most celebratory way to end (well, almost) Fashion Week: Everybody is thrilled to be there and full of raucous energy and even more raucous costumes. At the show Wednesday night, we saw everything from a dude with a homemade patchwork stuffed animal that matched his pants, to a man with eight-inch hair spikes in all directions, to a woman wearing black nipple pasties and a g-string. And even when the aforementioned woman made a point of jumping up and down to show her friend how well her pastie worked, the vibe managed to be exuberant and carefree instead of “Holy hell, that is a lot of underboob.”

Indeed, Noted Fashion Photographer Nigel Barker seemed to be having the time of his life in the front row, even though there was a giant motorcycle parked directly in front of his, J. Alexander’s, and Jay Manuel’s seats. Nigel smiled appreciatively at the scantily clad female models in that slow, dreamy way of his (we can hear the purr now: “Hello ladies”), while the Jays nodded studiously next to a quiet Robert Verdi. At the very last second, before the house lights went down, an orgy of flashbulbs heralded the arrival of none other than Lil’ Kim, in a tight white skirt, flesh-colored bodice (we are in fact fairly sure it was a bodice, and not flesh-colored flesh), and white fur epaulets—no pasties for her this go-round, which is frankly somewhat disappointing. She wasn’t doing interviews, but she did a whole lot of hugging, and the assembled masses whooped as soon as she walked in the door. We may have unleashed a delighted expletive. We’re not telling.

Across from Kim was American Idol’s Adam Lambert, in a green leopard manicure, leather, and amber contacts that made him look like the poster to Cats. “I just wanted to punch them up a bit,” he said of his eyes. “The Blonds are imaginative and they’re not afraid to break the rules, and I think we’re kindred that way.” We wondered which former Idol contestant—or judge—he might want to seize and treat to a Blonds-style makeover. He blinked. “I’m just here to see the Blonds,” he said. “American Idol was three years ago. It’s a beautiful, nostalgic, distant memory.” Okay, fair enough. But the correct answer is, of course, “Randy Jackson.”