Fashion & Beauty
I was turning heads — but I could barely move my own.
Walking down 42nd Street is typically a breeze.
But doing it in the cloud of Canadian wildfire smoke while my entire head was wrapped in a layer of black tulle — with my shoulders and elbows pinned to my sides by a massively exaggerated upper-body collar and my hands sheathed in nylon stockings — was no walk in the park.
And as I strutted through the city streets in the get-up, repeatedly overhearing “What the f – – k?” and “Oh, my God!” from wide-eyed passersby, I thought to myself: “It’s freakin’ hard being Kanye West’s wife.”
The “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” rapper’s new bride, Bianca Censori, 28, inspired the look when she sported a similarly eye-popping ensemble to a church service in Los Angeles Sunday alongside Kanye, 46.
Censori — a Melbourne, Australia, native who works as the “Head of Architecture” at her hubby’s sportswear line YEEZY, according to her LinkedIn — caused an online uproar in the bizarre, all-black bodycon outfit inspired by the Comme des Garçons fashion label.
Her little number featured a huge cushioned sphere that encircled her chest and shoulders, covering two-thirds of her face, and a sheer body glove that encased her entire frame, including her arms and platinum-blond pixie cut.
In reaction to the outré outfit, wisecrackers on Twitter likened the latest Mrs. West to an “uncircumcised penis” and a “condom.”
And folks in Midtown Manhattan felt the same about my togs.
“Yes, you look like a condom,” a woman in Bryant Park said as we exchanged laughs over the frock. When I asked if she’d wear it, I got a quick, “Absolutely not,” in response.
Her friend, however, felt I pulled it off, saying, “Gorgeous! Looks so fun!”
But recreating Censori’s look wasn’t fun at all — in fact, it was almost as hard as walking (and breathing) in it.
With some much-needed creative input from my mom, who helped me stitch together the pillowy shoulder piece with two yards of black fabric and a spool of polyester batting — the stuff used to make quilts soft — it took about three hours to get the structure just right.
I tried topping the formation with a slice of nylon as the headpiece, hoping to make it look as close to the tip of a condom as possible. But after an hour of failing to affix the ultrafine sheet onto the orb, I decided to just wind the nylon around my head and clasp it with a hair tie.
My favorite, and most shady, feature of the fit was the Skims dress — a black, spaghetti-strapped maxi made by the original Mrs. West, Kim Kardashian, 42 — that I wore beneath the oversized neck brace.
My mother donated a pair of her old sheer black socks, which I used on my arms to mimic Censori’s see-through overlay.
I topped it all off with a short blond wig.
And although the costume was stressful to make and model, I was surprised by the number of compliments it received.
“Baby, period! You look good! I love it!” yelled a barista at Le Pain Quotidien.
“I love it. I love the hair,” said a woman as we crossed Sixth Avenue in lockstep.
“You are so beautiful!” said another by a hot dog stand.
A man playing chess in the park said, “You look good baby, I want to take you home.”
As flattering as the offer was, after about an hour, I found being Kanye’s wife, well, exhausting.
The garb, though attention-commanding, was hot, clingy, binding and uncomfortable.
When I caught one lady staring, I asked, “Would you wear this?” She replied, “No. Is someone paying you to wear it?”
I quipped, “Yes. But not enough.”