“Is The Earth Just A Body Too?”
Oklahoma Fashion Alliance
Artisan Hall
Tulsa
Feb. 24, 2024
Think you don’t belong in a room full of cool kids? If the room is being run by the Oklahoma Fashion Alliance, go ahead and think again. My anxiety about showing up to a fashion show as what you might call a “scene elder” got obliterated when I read the following in OFA’s welcome email for “Is The Earth Just A Body Too?”: “If you don’t have an outfit already picked out, some inspiration from us is: wear something that tells your story.”
That, I could do. The empowerment in those words is a huge part of the mission of OFA, which formally launched just over a year ago and presented its third show cycle recently at Artisan Hall, a still under-construction community space inside a gigantic old church on the north end of Kendall Whittier.
There was a long line of people waiting under the full moon before the doors even opened, looking in the windows at a gorgeously lit interior with projection-mapped ripples on the ceiling, designed by Logan Sours’ Dreamspace Lab. As we peeked in, models peeked out at us from a window frame high above the entrance. Almost an hour after the show was supposed to start, door personnel were still bringing people in, through an entryway piled with ancient, dusty Christmas decorations and bustling with models, guests, OFA team members, and volunteers.
With soothing sounds of Bach and Jan Garbarek spilling through the speakers, the waiting became almost part of the event. The church’s pews gradually filled with folks feeling themselves in DIY fits that could have gone on the runway themselves. It’s not often that I get to experience the joy of people-watching on this scale in Tulsa. Even as the hour grew late, I was content to sit in my pew, one story among many, taking in the energy building in the room. (I’m very here for Tulsa’s current reclamation of church spaces for collective creative joy.)
As soon as OFA founder and runway director Parker D. Wayne took the mic with a few opening words and a heartfelt dedication to the people of Palestine, the anticipatory buzz became a tight, fast-moving beast. Pairs of models entered on high from both sides of the loft, stopping to peek through raw 2x4 studs on their way down staircases that led from the rafters to the floor below. The Links (Tyler Sexton and Logan Bruhn) curated music for each designer, creating a sound landscape that took us from jungle to ice floe to club, unifying the night while elevating the resonance of the individual artists’ work.
For this show, supported by the Artists Creative Fund, OFA invited local designers to create looks based on a “core memory.” Kieran Crutison (C.A.P.), Costanza Fusco, Rayven Andallo, Becs Burroughs, Terrie Plumlee, Danny Alvarez, Lolly McLain, Swan Shekinaa, and Amanda Cobb delivered exuberantly expressive, meticulously hand-crafted pieces — with titles like “Our Crown,” “Snapping Turtle,” “Undefeated,” “The Skin Gown,” and “She Who Is Free” — that quickly became part of my core memories.
Thick hair ribbons and a purple backpack. Painted forms on tie-dyed tops, paired with tailored pants festooned with chains. Cut knits and fingerless gloves. A knitted shawl whose weight swung with purpose. Patchwork, space faerie vibes, spiked hair. Medieval puffy sleeves and a chain mail headdress. Sweet dreamy dresses and tresses, with models flexing their biceps in powerful femme forms. Solid shapes anchoring flowing rivers of fabric. A spectacular black Marie Antoinette wig atop a studded leather skirt, worn next to an absolute ice king wearing an embellished white cape. The hair (lead stylist Erin Hall) and makeup (lead artist Kenna Marshall) were essential to each look, braiding elements of the pieces all the way to the crown of every model (cheers to model leads Zamya Carter and Alex Crain for impeccably guiding the 16 models on some truly epic walks).
I only wish we’d had a few more up-close moments with each of these pieces; the heart, imagination, and detail the designers poured into every square inch was breathtaking in the blur of the moment, but my nerdy self keeps on studying what they did in the photos I took, wanting to know more about how the hell they pulled these feats of fashion off. But the thrill of this night was enough: it was DIY liberation, claiming and reclaiming stories through handmade art, a celebration of self-expression and community. The after-party might have been cut short by the fire marshals, but I’m glad they let the show go on. Tulsa’s got a fashion revolution on our hands with OFA — one that feels not exclusive but authentic, accessible, and actually for everyone.
Next for Alicia: Heller Theatre’s Double Feature, March 8
