Eclectic company
THE first weekend of Fashion Week is traditionally relaxed. It’s a chance for lesser-known designers to get their feet wet, and many of the shows are small affairs, held in downtown galleries and loft spaces, instead of under the tents at Bryant Park. Top editors don’t always turn out and neither do the crowds. But even damp weather couldn’t stop the frenzy from building as soon as the fall season started here on Friday.
Kenneth Cole had everyone up at the ungodly hour of 9 a.m., and it was full speed ahead from there. Usually, Cole produces a short film about a social issue to remind everyone that fashion is not all-important. But this time, he spoofed that “concern” itself, addressing the air-kiss-challenged, obsessive-compulsive “catwalking” and the tic-like tendency to say “Fabulous!” It was a hoot, but the laughs were more memorable than the collection, which was full of his trademark peacoats and tweed pencil skirts.
It was the first of a record number of shows scheduled, more than 160 in an informal count, featuring the industry’s latest darlings, Trovata and Marchesa out of L.A.; as well as first-timers Manuel Cuevas, country couturier to Johnny Cash, and Todd Smith, a.k.a. LL Cool J. Then there’s Chanel’s Karl Lagerfeld, who’s creating quite a stir, having come to town to launch his collection of contemporary sportswear.
But how much is too much?
Clearly, there is an appetite for fashion, now more than ever. It’s the topic of reality shows (as former “Project Runway” contestants in the front row can attest) and talk shows (Lagerfeld will appear on “The Oprah Winfrey Show” this spring). For the first time, it’s streaming off the runways at Bryant Park and directly onto the Internet. It’s being covered by blogs, downloaded to iPods and documented in street fashion photos of showgoers, outfitted in the rubber Wellies popularized by Kate Moss.
On Saturday, industry bible Women’s Wear Daily had to publish a weekend edition just to keep up. The downside of all this attention is that it’s becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the clothes, which is presumably why we’re all here in the first place, what with Lindsay Lohan modeling in the Heart Truth’s Red Dress charity show, a Paris Hilton impersonator at Nicole Miller and infamous PR maven Lizzie Grubman gushing to a TV crew about her recent engagement. Fashion is moving at such a clip that last season’s hot designer is this season’s has-been, and repeat visits to gritty downtown show venues stir memories of collections that faded away long before they had a chance to mature and shine.
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Vintage has the advantage
SO, over the weekend, designers tried to counter this throwaway, thrill-a-minute mood with clothes that were quirky enough to be remembered. What emerged was an eclecticism that combined the appeal of a rare vintage find with that added personal touch -- hand-me-downs altered for a new generation.
There was a naivete to Alice Roi’s collection that seemed to build on Marc Jacobs’ “Smells Like Teen Spirit” show last September. But Roi’s clothes were more subversive. There was something dark at work here, with models in black lipstick, frighteningly orthopedic white lace-up Mary Janes and ribbed long johns that looked as though they had been clawed by the neighborhood cat. A cream silk crepe blouse with a Peter Pan collar was smudged across the front with an ink etching, while the bib of a staid blouse unexpectedly shocked in neon pink.
Nevertheless, it was all beautifully kooky, especially a schoolgirl blouse sliced open under the puffed sleeves, and a creamy silk shift with patches of sequins sewn haphazardly onto the front, as if to repair a panel that was threadbare.
Jasmin Shokrian, a Los Angeles-based designer, applied her sculptural technique to the classics, deconstructing a charcoal crepe sheath dress to the most elegant effect by pinching, folding and tucking. She gave the fur capelet new life by cutting it into a triangle point in the back, and reinvented the wool cardigan coat, giving it a circular shape.
New to New York Fashion Week, Serbian designer Dragana Ognjenovic worked entirely in black. She took a razor to a wasp-waist jacket, creating pastry-thin layers of silk crepe at the cuffs, and embellished an expertly tailored funnel-neck coat with ribbon rosettes. A “200 piece” woven grosgrain skirt was impressive, as was a fringed flapper dress shimmying with fabric strips. And the 1960s bouffant hairdos made the clothes look only more Audrey Hepburn chic.
Vena Cava’s Sophie Buhai and Lisa Mayock tried to put their own spin on the 1970s bohemian Biba style, adding triangle cutouts at the neckline of a flowy brown jersey gown and sewing covered black buttons around the puffed sleeves of a sage jersey dress. It was a nice idea to forsake the runway for a gallery space and show the clothes in vignettes inspired by rooms in their Brooklyn apartments -- the dining room, the boudoir etc. A triangle-print peplum blouse looked great with a soft black leather tulip skirt.
Of course, there were head scarves and floppy hats galore. But a lot of it felt tired, almost as tired as the heavy-lidded model fiddling with an abacus in the game room.
L.A. designer Jenni Kayne continues to produce some fine -- if at times bland -- sportswear. Her best look for fall is a pair of cropped wool trousers paired with what could be Mother’s brown tweed jacket -- except that the sleeves were cleverly lopped off at the elbows to reveal a sheer blouse underneath. Coats were strong too, especially a snug navy leather trench with brass buttons. Kayne’s now-signature beaded apron top was reincarnated as a nude-colored dress, worn under a brown leather bolero. And sunshine yellow satin made for a smashing sleeveless gown with a fluted hem. Still, one wished she had flexed her creative muscles a bit more and relied less on that uninspiring blue diamond print.
Rounding out the L.A. crowd was Todd Magill, showing his Wyeth line at the Gen Art show. What a pleasant surprise it was to see all the basic ingredients of a modern wardrobe on one runway -- a crinkly wool herringbone smock coat (no need for ironing), an easygoing blue jersey dress with billowy sleeves (perfect for work), a pleated black georgette gown with lace insets (goes to any black-tie party). At last, serenity arrives at New York Fashion Week.
As much as everyone likes to complain about the circus-like shows from such labels as Lacoste and Baby Phat, they can be fun. Oakley’s creative director, Michael Angel, should get an award for managing to style camouflage parkas, rash guards and tank tops into a tough-girl Lara Croft look, and showing a trend that L.A. could really get behind: board shorts worn over opaque black tights with wedge heels. From the coast to the club in no time.
