Two readers clocked Anna Wintour at the (horrid) Angelika Theatre yesterday. The first sounded too good to be true. (Anna even nearly got puked on.) The Anna-stalker writes:

I keep meaning to get to the recent Maura Egan interview with Tom Ford, mostly because Ford emphatically declares "I can't stand shaved balls!" and I think that's hysterical. Fortunately, nutty Canadian Joe Clark has gone deep into the most recent issue of Details (the gay lifestyle magazine for straight people), and he froths endlessly over the Ford interview. Clark writes: "Tom Ford is an emissary of an idealized, bespoke-engineered future of perfect gay men who are entirely unlike perfect straight men. His very name is masculine, not to mention Huxleyan..." Christ. We'll have to rent Mr. Clark and his copy of Details a room.
Tom Ford is a god [Fawny]

At P. Diddy's sweatshops, "workers were subjected to daily body searches, provided with contaminated drinking water, and expected to work 11 to 12 hour days. According to the report, labourers were paid about 24 cents per Sean John sweat shirt they sewed." Ironically, 24 cents is a whole lot less than people in the United States were paid to wear them.

Right now, thousands of dogs out-weighing an issue of Vogue are being gassed, strangled, and drowned. Why? Small dogs are in! If you can't pop Fido into an oversize Kate Spade tote, off the bridge in a dry cleaning bag he goes.

The Wall Street Journal today goes deep in the trucker hat discussion. While of course Gawker is quoted as the absolute arbiter of hip (because we are, as you well know), someone obviously isn't paying attention. Scarily enough, hat-pimps Von Dutch sold $2.5 million in trucker hats last year. Stephanie Kang explains the fashion pain away thusly:

As you undoubtedly know, the New York Times has officially named Stefano Tonchi as style editor.

Vogue editor Anna Wintour obviously wasn't intrigued by today's Conde Nast cafeteria guest chef Cedric Tovar of Django. A reader writes: "Saw Anna Wintour today (Monday, 10/20) at the swank midtown eatery Lever House Restaurant. Notable elements: She was the first of her party of three to arrive, and at the decidedly uncool early lunch time of 12:30; she ate fries with lunch, and a fatten-looking desert; and she is much prettier in person than some of your snarkier correspondents might have led me to believe."

Fashion junkie Meghan Stier gives a run-down on lessons learned from VH1's "When Supermodels Ruled The World":

The great thing about the coming of winter? No more fucking Hamptons lawn party benefits for deformed children, or whatever sort of crippled or impoverished groups the rich feel best about helping this year. But the Camel-Toe Report would like us to briefly flashback to Labor Day:

Where do yesterday's supermodels go? Meghan Stiers has a roundup of bigtime runway girls gone MIA. She writes:

Prada Soho's Conforming Mannequins [Meccapixel]

Spring 2004: Milan [Hint Mag]

Blogger Meg Hourihan proves my theory that it only takes a year of living in Manhattan to become a self-appointed Judge Dredd of fashion taste. Her NYC Jeans Police campaign is doing the Lord's work — or, at least, Missy and Madonna's. "First offender spotted Saturday afternoon on Bleecker St., where a woman was squeezed into a too-tight pair of pale blue Lee (?) jeans. I let her off with a warning. Shortly thereafter, I spotted another offender: a woman with large hips wearing low-rise dark denim bootcuts. Since the dept. is new, again I issued only a warning. Saturday's third incident: the horrific thong-above-low-rise. Citation and fine were issued, there's simply no warning for that one."
NYC Jeans Police [Megnut]

Our barrel-pickers among the ruins of fashion week in Bryant Park have saved a fantastic artifact. This inspiring sign was allegedly created for the models backstage at the Michael Kors show. It reads: "You are Not light packers... You ARE the Jet Set.... You Summer in Capri... Sunning, Yachting and Shopping....Dancing and having a blast! BE: SEXY & FLIRTY! You are the envy of everyone!"

Crude, lusty, and just generally offensive, photographer Helmut Newton should be the posterboy for fashion week. According to the Times, Mr. Newton's "[influence has] no better example of that than Tom Ford, whose fall collection for Yves Saint Laurent contains Lucite jewelry based on his memory of Mr. Newton's late 70's series of naked women in orthopedic body braces. 'I was very aware of his twisted sexual fantasies as I was growing up in the 70's,' Mr. Ford said. 'Every one of them has some sort of debauched setting and the subtlest layers of meaning. It was shocking, stunning and nauseating...'" In a related fashion week summary article:

A photo from the Condè Nast cafeteria of today's random and special dessert offering:

Fashion Week is staggering to a close, and we couldn't be happier. For us it means no more awful parties where fresh-off-the-bus-from-Indianapolis Ford models are paid a thousand bucks for two hours to stand around in pink shorts in the Four Seasons and scowl moodily. It means no more horror that the special edition Us Daily bumped its dishy Soho House feature for yet more Bennifer breakup news. But before we're allowed to dress ugly again, some exclusive reportage from under the Big Top at the gravest show on earth:
· Us Daily exclusive: "'Fashion's Best and Worst Bosses.' Beneath Donatella's tanned cowhide exterior lies a gooey Mamma Mia center. But watch how you make the coffee for Calvin—match it to Pantone chip 499 please or start brewing another pot."
· Day Six style sightings:
"-Janice Min with highlights visible from space.
-Full Frontal Fashion's Robert Verdi in a chartreuse jacket freshly stolen from a crossing guard.
-Fern "It's My Party" Mallis in shades of sorbet.
-Queen Anna in a tan and white striped suit. It may be September outside, but inside the tents, it's officially May.
-Hal Rubenstein, toning it down for the day in a khaki suit and platinum jewelry. Think muted Panama Jack.
-Stephanie Seymour and her giant nipples. No poppers at the Michael Kors show, but Stephanie and her clingy fuschia dress were nice enough to forget about the raging AC."
Turf Wars Escalate [Meghan Stier]
Style Sightings [Meghan Stier]

· "The hetero porno antics which dominated the first few days of Fashion Week were a mystery to us attendees. What an improbable way to attempt to seduce the faggy, femme fashion audience! We poofters and fashion chicks, when confronted with all this Bada Bing muff culture, can only stare at each other like terrified gerbils trapped in the headlights." Simon Doonan in the Observer.
· "[S]keptics might be interested to know that naive clothes are not always naively produced. They are a conscious acknowledgement of political and economic tension." Josh Patner in Slate.
· "Typically, Kate Spade's ads contain more fashion content than its products." Cate Corcoran in Slate.
· "[Imitation of Christ's Tara] Subkoff's show was badly executed, with an exuberant tap dancer tapping too long and a group of male models looking as witless as marzipan bridegrooms. But her spirit was in the right place." Cathy Horyn in the New York Times.
· "So out of sync was the Anne Klein show, which featured the deranged idea of models in seamed stockings and clunky sandals traipsing down a runway carpeted in wood chips, that it had absolutely no bearing on the season." Cathy Horyn again in the New York Times.
· "[Betsey Johnson's] S&M knit top with a micro-mini - that seemed perfect for Staten Island's original Dirrty diva. But for those of us without bodyguards (and personal trainers)? Probably not." Alev Aktar in the Daily News.
· "Bud Konheim, the business partner of Nicole Miller, said of [newcomer Catherine] Swanson's appearance in the tents: 'It's very, "Daddy, can I spend the summer at the house in Martha's Vineyard, or take the boat to the Greek Islands, or can I have a fashion show?"'" Vanessa Grigoriadis in the New York Times.

This morning's Bill Blass show reviewed by psycho fashion stalker Meghan Stiers:

The fashion world we adore is purely about the skill of drinking to excess while wearing 140mm heels. But the clothes we need must be made by someone, and it turns out that not every fashion sweatshop is in Malaysia. Fashion whiner Lisa Pettibone worked as a knitter for East Village hat queen Eugenia Kim; in this expose, she has the nerve to complain about hourly rates as low as $2.60. You'll never knit in this town again, Lisa!
My time as a milliner at Eugenia Kim [Daily Gusto]