Making political and fashion statements
Kenneth Cole can be counted on to open fashion week with a political statement, even if most times it’s lost before his last model hits the runway. But in this tumultuous election year, with Republican delegates and protesters barely out of town, politics have resonance.
Cole’s show Wednesday began with a powerful get-out-the-vote film that poked fun not only at fashionistas but at the electorate as a whole. Facts and figures flashed on the screen behind the runway: “100 million registered voters didn’t vote in 2000.” “Seventy-eight percent of Americans can name a supermodel. Forty-eight percent can name the vice president.” And finally, a quote from the designer himself: “Nov. 2 is not a dress rehearsal.” As the models stepped out in streamlined white minidresses with body-tracing seams a la Narciso Rodriguez, the film’s sentiment echoed in the music: “Make love not war, what the hell are we fighting for?”
Later in the week, a more hackneyed attempt at a statement came at the Imitation of Christ show, where a little girl recited the Pledge of Allegiance and a George Bush impersonator sat in the front row, next to actress Nia Vardalos.
Indeed, the fashion industry is engaged in the election like never before, with the Bush and Kerry daughters appearing in several glossy magazine spreads in recent months, and numerous designers, including Sean “P. Diddy” Combs and Patricia Field, selling politically themed T-shirts. At the tents in Bryant Park this week, campaign buttons were pinned to even the most chic purses.
But there is only so far one can go before the message threatens to obscure the medium, and most designers spoke a more universal language. For a woman to open her heart, mind and wallet to the idea of expensive clothes, they must have a seductive quality. So the spring 2005 season began with a touch of romance. Designers didn’t waste time trying to impress with flesh and flash -- instead, they flattered and cajoled with sweet off-the-shoulder ruffled dresses, eyelet tops, pouf skirts and cardigans with jeweled collars that hinted at exoticism.
Carolina Herrera took inspiration from 1940s textiles, offering sundresses and camp shirts in a charming swimming lady print. The skinny Bermuda short is becoming an important piece for spring, and hers were in ivory linen, paired with a delicately embroidered ivory and red pullover. An aqua shift dress was accessorized with a luxe version of the L.L. Bean canvas boat tote, with chocolate brown crocodile trim. And an ivory jersey gown with semiprecious, tile-like stones arranged in a circle at the hip signaled an emerging trend of jewelry as part of the garment. (Jeffrey Chow’s ruby and white paisley damask evening coat, sparkling with Swarovski crystals at the wrists and collar, was another stunning example.)
At Perry Ellis, Patrick Robinson’s vibrant collection was further reason for the designer and his bosses at Public Clothing Co. to get over their differences so he can stay awhile. Each piece was delicate yet refined, like a treasure from grandmother’s attic. A yellow seersucker skirt was ruched up the front with a thin band of ivory lace. A light green pointelle knit sweater topped ruffled ivory lace shorts (not that anybody’s really going to wear bloomers). And the bolero, which looks to be the jacket of the season, came in a rich green tapestry or in pink lace with wooden flower-shaped buttons. The lovely wide velvet bow belts that appeared throughout were straight out of a Victorian painting. It was delightful also to consider that this line, more affordable than most, sells for between $100 and $500. “I’m not inspired by a book or a movie,” Robinson said. “What I’ve learned in this business is you have to make clothes relevant.”
Proenza Schouler’s Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez captured 1960s California cool with a Beach Boys soundtrack and one of their best collections yet, both inventive and youthful. We’re not talking board shorts here, but a two-toned palm frond print that brought to mind the mural at the Fountain Coffee Shop at the Beverly Hills Hotel. In various color combinations, the print was splashed on a T-shirt, a swing coat with oversized buttons, a sheer camp shirt and a cashmere cardigan. An alligator-skin jacket looked bleached by the sun. And a skirt in the same palm pattern worked in tiny wooden beads had a marvelous jungle feel.
Cynthia Steffe continued the world tour to Marrakech via Haight-Ashbury, with halter tops and cardigans with jeweled collars worn over eyelet capri pants. A bold poppy and sunflower print empire waist top paired with slim pink shorts and flat sandals, and the tiny braids in the model’s loose locks, recalled the Summer of Love.
Only at Nicole Miller did the traveling and bejeweling get out of hand. Gowns with Celtic-inspired embroidery on the bodice and chunky stones at the waist looked like something out of a Renaissance fair, though gold metallic washed linen shorts and skirts hit the mark.
Tracy Reese also misfired. Working in her well-worn ladylike aesthetic, she relied too heavily on vintage references. Brocade swing coats with droopy collars were uninspiring, and slapping an oversized bow on the backside of a garden print strapless dress or a back swag on a peach floral sheath was gilding the lily.
At Bill Blass, Michael Vollbracht’s collection was schizophrenic, as if he were trying to appeal to red carpet starlets and the Old Guard at the same time. The show was a parade of fabulous dresses -- one in a swirling Matisse print, another covered in the tiny round mirrors of Indian tunics, and a third with a bare midriff amid a kaleidoscope of multicolored chiffon -- interspersed with navy shifts and stuffy cream suits with nautical trim. Such is the fashion conundrum of trying to earn dollars from aging boomers and publicity from young bloomers.
It was a heady task, as Sebastian Pons said in his show notes, “to imagine the great cinema divas Ava Gardner and Grace Kelly or the fashion icon Jacqueline Onassis all traveling in my native land of Majorca.” Yet the young designer also tried to weave in themes of Spain and the American West. A white eyelet off-the-shoulder flounce dress with blue satin ribbon trim screamed Daisy Duke, while a ruffled confection in a rose print was reminiscent of Charo. Pons had more success when he used a lighter hand. A burgundy and white cowboy shirtdress looked fresh, as did a gown in a navy-and-white diamond pattern crochet that resembled papel picado.
As dates for this season’s damsels, John Bartlett, whose women’s business folded two years ago, offered his vision of Ivy League boys. The presentation of his new menswear line at the Harvard Club was a far cry from his former splashy runway shows, one of which featured a wall of nearly naked young men as set decoration.
“This collection didn’t warrant a runway show because it’s suits,” he said. “So I thought I would put it in the environment that inspired it.” Bartlett attended Harvard University from 1981 to 1985, studying “sociology and nightclubbing.”
Although everyone wore black in those days, Bartlett said, his dreams were Technicolor. In a scene that could have been lifted from “Brideshead Revisited,” fresh-faced young men sat in high-backed leather chairs reading old paperbacks or hurling paper airplanes at one another. They were a vision of prep in pastel blazers, awning stripe shirts and argyle socks. Convincing as they looked, though, Bartlett insisted they were models, not students.
“I tried to do a casting of Harvard boys,” he said, “and it was a disaster.”
