John Galliano’s show began with a slew of black and dark-gray clothes, worn by models made up to look like decaying corpses, his favorite runway beauty look for dudes. But then the mood shifted when out strutted models in lighter gray suiting, with gray streaks in their hair, their cheeks and lips rosy and skin dewy, as though they were truly living, breathing beings! Has Galliano gone soft on us? the audience may have wondered. And then out walked a model wearing suit pieces and corset shorts instead of actual bottoms. Then came another with a corset peeking out from the top of his suit pants, making way for a glistening corset warrior in a red, gold, and black creation (though we must note that if anyone needs a corset it is most certainly not these fellows). The underwear models wore Galliano’s signature painted-on ten- to twelve-packs (also unnecessary for these dudes). Their faces were made to look battered, like Jean Paul Gaultier’s models. And Galliano exited with beams of fire shooting up from the sides of the runway, the whole spectacle reminding us that before there was Lady Gaga, there was Galliano.