A Light Touch
Writer Harold Brodkey once described the moment of sexual ecstasy in terms of a bird taking flight, a treacherous metaphor in less artistic hands. Brodkey’s erotic short story came to mind when Giorgio Armani preceded his spring collection with a short film of a white bird aloft; the designer risked ridicule if the ensuing presentation didn’t soar. Ah, but it did, on the wings of exquisite, elegant, breathtaking clothes.
Eric Clapton, seated in the first row, had composed a special score for the event, guitar music that ranged from jazzy to ethereal. In more ways than one, not a single wrong note sounded in the triumphant show.
At the beginning, a runway of white glass in the basement of Armani’s headquarters was filled with the once revolutionary, low-key suits that have spurred women to assemble wardrobes by acquiring one or two, year after year.
The unstructured jackets, best shown over only skin, gave way to long, flowing, slender coats (or are they dresses?), slit up to the thigh in front, often worn over narrow, sheer trousers.
Reasonable facsimiles of many of the Far Eastern-inspired styles shown in 10 days of shows that ended here Sunday could be found on a shopping safari to any big city’s Chinatown. No literalness corrupts Armani’s interpretations of Asian dress. His sarong skirts and raj coats of light, sumptuous fabrics seemed to drift around the body like a vapor. Minimalism has been a preference for Armani, not a belief system. He judiciously added jewelry to this collection--chokers of crystal beads, lapel pins of rhinestone palm trees and lilies, textured cuffs that reflected light like water under a full moon.
To emphasize the nonchalance of irresistible evening clothes, a beaded sweater was tied around the hips of a barebacked gown as if the outfit were only sportswear. Barefoot models, wearing printed chiffon tunics over delicate satin trousers or chiffon columns appliqued with velvet flowers and sequins, meandered down the runway like lazy dreamers, kicking imaginary sand out of their way.
As the last girl, in cloud blue organza trousers and a collarless coat of tiny, shimmering blue pearls, lingered at the shore with the air of melancholy a summer’s end inevitably produces, the silhouette of a bare-chested Adonis appeared behind the scrim covering one wall of the dark theater. She approached the apparition and tenderly kissed its cheek. In that wordless pas de deux, romance was defined.
Emporio Armani is exactly what many women hope a secondary line will be, a less luxurious version of the styles a great designer makes for a limited population unconcerned about price tags. In the past, EA has been deliberately young and kicky, but for spring graceful duster coats and ankle-length sweaters, sarong skirts and easy trousers, were distinctively, identifiably, serenely Armani.
Elton John sat in the front row at Gianni Versace’s show. He was the appropriate poster boy for that collection, because it was, figuratively speaking, Versace after rehab, clean and sober (with only a few slips). The clothes told the story of “Pretty Woman” and its proposed sequel, as the designer created a wardrobe for the babe who’s gone proper. Necklines still plunged, ruffles flirted and lacy gowns, echoing lingerie less and the Battenburg lace of fine linens more, were a vote against vulgarity and for a sweet, softly colored prettiness even the king of flash and trash has embraced.
Versace was also influenced by nine American artists he met while commissioning paintings for his New York apartment. Jim Dine was the obvious source for a heart print, Roy Lichtenstein the man behind the geometrics in a skirt. “Coco Chanel collaborated with Picasso,” Versace said before the show. “There has always been a connection between art and fashion.”
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Designers with a clear point of view often do their best work when they are oblivious to trends. Three identical outfits that emerged near the end of the Jil Sander show were a convincing argument for that thesis. Stretchy sleeveless T-shirts pulled over plain nylon pants, in white, beige or pale gray, were perfect examples of the pure, monastic style Sander fans covet. While fashion repeatedly nominates an array of sexual stereotypes, she abstains, concentrating on quietly rich clothes that are always modern.
Even when she works with perforated suede, gauzy knits or layers of see-through chiffon, no fastenings clutter the clean lines. There were more dresses than usual in the collection; they were straight and close to the body except for those featuring odd, kangaroo pouches of fabric in front. Sander’s palette continues to expand beyond neutrals, including cobalt blue, violet, rose, mustard and coral this season.
Alberta Ferretti unwittingly offered a review course in the season’s major themes: chinoiserie, wispy floral prints, uneven and trailing hemlines, feminine dresses fashioned of layers of fragile, transparent fabrics, all grounded by ankle-tied velvet platform sandals in a variety of colors. Details like tiny pleats on an ivory chiffon slip of a skirt, or fagoting on a white batiste apron tied over sheer black chiffon, set Ferretti’s pastoral dresses apart. Since she has always done romantic clothes well, this season was the perfect time for her to shine.
The eccentricity award still goes to Moschino, where an energetic design studio carries on the work of designer Franco Moschino, who died in 1994. A Moschino show is a hysterical mishmash of gimmicks and visual puns interspersed with superlative style.
Gimmick: a long dress printed with bricks, including the graffiti scrawled on the faux wall.
Great style: a bias-cut navy chiffon evening dress.
A Moschino trademark is messages written on clothing, pointed sayings a step up from “I’m With Stupid.” This time, the recurring motto was, “Now is all there is. Love is all there is.” It was a suitably straightforward aphorism for a spring season in which clothes likely to inspire a little passion have been plentiful.
