Frontline.
I stand on the front line.
A mile behind, ninety-nine souls
Stare.
Facing forward,
Accusing.
They say:
Why?
I say:

At any given moment, it seems there is a fashion week happening somewhere in the world - be it Sydney, Istanbul, Dubai, Seoul, Moscow, Toronto, Copenhagen or Lagos (to name a few).

But the latest entrant may be the most surprising: Silicon Valley.

Or, as the organisers style it: Silicon Valley Fashion Week?!.

The punctuation marks as part of the title are a self-aware nod to the incongruity of marrying the location, known for its allegiance to hoodies, Tevas and T-shirts, to a fashion event.

But that does not mean they are any less serious about its potential.

The three-day annual event, which finished its second turn over the weekend in San Francisco, bills itself as "part fashion show, part variety show, part trade show" and is open to the public, unlike the usual fashion industry events. This year, about 30 brands were featured and tickets, at US$20 (S$28), sold out, with about 500 people attending each day.

It was staged by Betabrand, a San Francisco company that builds its clothing catalogue by crowdsourcing design ideas and, after seeing which take off, crowdfunding the production of the prototypes to see which ones people will actually want to buy. Examples include a "mind the gap" blouse that stretches to fit the body's contours and a dress that uses a trademarked reflective material.

The event exists at the nexus of Burning Man, wearable technology and the Maker Movement, home of inventors, designers and other do-it-yourself types. Pebble Smartwatch presented a Smarthole Hoodie, a standard hoodie design with sleeves that extend over the thumbs and have a movable panel around the wrist to make gaining access to the company's device easier; and Tinsel offered headphones that can be worn as a necklace.

Alison Lewis, who holds a design and technology master's degree from Parsons School of Design in New York, showed three items: a lambskin leather handbag embedded with LED bulbs that can be rearranged in different patterns with an app; a T-shirt that does the same; and a dress with lights that undulate with the wearer's heartbeat.

"Technology is a tool. It's how we use it that's really exciting," she said. "We could have less clothing in our closets and have pieces that change and work with our moods and personalities on a daily basis."

Lewis has not had a chance to present her work in other fashion shows and, so far, she has not been able to mass-produce her items. She commended the fashion week as a place to experiment.

She was not the only designer struggling with the challenge of manufacturing what she displayed.

However, as wearables increasingly enter mainstream fashion, with designers from Ralph Lauren to Zac Posen dipping their creative toes into technology, the idea of clothing patterns controlled by apps, of drone delivery, and of customisation that allows - maybe even asks - its wearers to make a choice each and every day, seems less far-fetched and more like fashion's possible future.

Which, unlikely as it may be, puts the Silicon Valley event on the style front line.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses

Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar
Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller

My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition
They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition
They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition
Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition

Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority
Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that
I bought water from you now I have ice to sell
I have a great story but no one worthy to tell
Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen
Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene?

Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave
Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave
Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave
Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave
Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave
Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save
Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave
Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave

Over the ravaged battlefield, a pall of death hung fast
I watched in silent horror, as the wounded breathed their last
The screams of bloodied soldiers, echoed down the sodden trench
As vermin ate the flesh of men, unbothered by the stench.

A drizzling rain was falling soft, as darkness slew the day
I knew my life was fading fast, so I began to pray

Oh GOD! Above in heaven, as you look down on this Hell
You see,through this black holocaust, a frightened Sentinel
The time is fast approaching Lord, when we'll meet face to face
And I'll be held accountable, for my actions in this place

No words in mitigation, can excuse the deeds I've done
I'm a product of my nation born to die upon the Somme
Before deaths bullet takes me, when I'm ordered from this hole
I beg you to forgive me and recieve my wretched Soul...

The order came along the trench ''Get ready to attack''
The cold hard hand of terror rested firmly on my back
Down along the frontline, whispered prayers of men grew quiet
While mass extermination waited out there in the night
Each brief second seemed an hour, as I saw my life flash past
Then somewhere in my reverie, the whistle blew at last

That cold hard hand of terror pushed me forward from behind
A burning rage and bloodlust closed the senses of my mind
Rifle shooting deadly sin, over no-mans land I stumbled
The dead of prior battles, in heaps around me,tumbled
A piercing war-cry on my lips, my bloodlust not yet sated
Firing blindly, all the while, the foe he grimly waited

Halfway accross hells quagmire, the flares popped overhead
Casting down an eerie glow on the living and the dead

Caught like running Ghosts of men, by those floating midnight Suns
Fodder for Deaths banquet, silhouetted for their guns
The whine of flying bullets filled the air about my ears
A smell of death, its **** and blood returned me to my fears

Realising our predicament, caught between two stools
Though Death reaped us like fresh grass, we all ran on like  fools
A bullet caught me in the chest, just below my shoulder
I fell upon the barbedwire and felt my blood grow colder
Hanging there, as life ran out, screaming for assistance
I saw myself and comrades, from what seemed a mighty distance

So adrift upon some sea, Life, winding down within me
But Oh! the manner of my Death, a very sad short story
A lad of nineteen summers, I had never loved a wife
Nor done the things I dreamed I'd do in the young days of my life....

My nation called ''We Need You Son'' in nineteen and fourteen
And preached of War and Battle as a bright and shining dream
With words like, Honour, Glory, Pride........ Bravery and Duty
Beguiled my generation by painting Death as beauty....

A message from the government explaining my sad tale
My poor beloved family will soon get in the Mail
Telling lies of sacrifice for our nations worthy cause
BUT NOT RELATING,HOW I DIED OF GOVERNMENTAL FLAWS.....


Written on October 5/2005.. Copyright.Eamonn O'Dowd.

I stand behind you.
No matter where you turn,

I've got your back.
Don't care if you can't see me;

I won't make a sound as the
Bullets hit.

It's a cheap shot world at times.  
You form the frontline,

I'll be here with a back full of
Lead with your name on it.

I'm a ***** Boxing Champion.
Taking all their sucker punches,  

I stand behind you. Let you fight  
Your own battles,

Shield you only from what
Isn't fair.

Even the odds with every step
You take. I'm kevlar. You unalone.