ALCHEMY AND THE AMERICAN DREAM
In a year full of fashion anniversaries -- Dior’s 60th, Valentino’s 45th -- nobody did it quite like Ralph Lauren, who marked his 40th with Fashion Week’s most glittering and memorable event. Ralph Lifschitz became Ralph Lauren, America’s self-made aristocrat, by selling the look of wealth to the everyman. And last weekend, after two years of planning, he celebrated with a show and dinner in the lush gardens of the Central Park Conservatory, not all that far from the border of the Bronx neighborhood where he grew up.
Mayor Michael Bloomberg, Sarah Jessica Parker, Matthew Broderick, Dustin Hoffman, Robert De Niro and a who’s who of media (Charlie Rose, Martha Stewart, Barbara Walters) walked through the magnificent Vanderbilt Gate and into a Ralph Lauren wonderland of perfectly pitched tents, white-gloved waiters and Champagne that managed to stay chilled even on a late summer’s night.
Lauren, whose currency is nostalgia, could have served up quite a retrospective, spinning through “The Great Gatsby,” “Out of Africa,” the rugged terrain of the Rockies or his beloved Southwest. But instead, he chose a clever riff on the equestrian lifestyle that has figured so prominently in his success, with enough candy colors and youthful energy to set him on a course for another 40 years.
Inspired by a day at the races, he contrasted sexy, Edwardian tailoring -- a black silk riding jacket over pink stretch jodhpurs embellished with crystals and etched in a Ralph Lauren script -- with flouncy floral gowns, all accessorized with Philip Treacy’s madcap hats. A black drop waist sweater dress with a pleated skirt even looked a bit naughty with taxicab yellow and black riding boots, and that pink, equestrian print taffeta jacket? Instantly collectible.
After a tuxedo-clad Lauren took his bow to Sinatra’s “The Best Is Yet to Come,” the back wall of the tent opened onto a twinkling terraced garden where tents were hung with chandeliers. Every detail was perfect, and nobody seemed to mind lingering in Lauren’s dream world for a while.
The only thing missing was Gatsby himself.
THE UPSTARTS
ELSEWHERE, the week belonged to the next generation of American designers struggling to survive four years, never mind 40. As for the trends, color is important for spring, especially citrus shades. A new, longer line silhouette emerged with long jackets or anoraks worn over full-length draped jersey day dresses and floor-sweeping, spiral-seamed skirts at Richard Chai. Soft lingerie looks in the form of silk bed jackets, pajama pants and draped, corseted slip dresses were all over the place, especially at Max Azria and Doo Ri. Tribal and safari details were also a major theme on an embroidered medallion miniskirt and black-and-white ikat shorts at Derek Lam, and safari-style waistcoats in other collections.
Everyone was buzzing about the Rodarte sisters Laura and Kate Mulleavy, who certainly seem to have grown up. Inspired by color-soaked animation cells (and a recent trip to Disneyland), their fairy-tale gowns were exquisitely worked with undulating ripples, pinked edges, peek-a-boo lace inlays, silk vines and flowers. The Pasadena sisters delved into day wear for the first time with voluminous jackets in tweed or layered organza daubed with watery color, knife-pleat skirts and skinny pants with ripples of chiffon. And they kept things from being too sweet with edgy color-dipped ponytails, thorny, studded stilettos and rocker chic cellophane dresses.
Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez of Proenza Schouler are the other darlings of the New York fashion scene. And though their bobby caps and flippy skirts might have looked a little too familiar (Balenciaga anyone?), their collection was still a knockout with sleeveless hemp linen safari vests layered over waistcoats, and jackets embroidered like abstract wood cuts. (We saw a similar ethnic vibe at Diane von Furstenberg, where a South Pacific theme bore a totem-print dress and Shantung safari wrap.) Proenza’s workmanship reached new heights on a cocktail dress with allover gold leaf embroidery and an evening coat coated in tiny plastic “feathers,” suggesting good things ahead for the duo now that they have received an investment from Valentino’s fashion group.
Thakoon Panuchgal emerged as one of America’s great sportswear designers, showing some of the best versions of this season’s longer jackets, one a navy blue drawstring sleeveless waistcoat worn with paper bag trousers, another in blue pin-tuck stripe. He tempered this great tailoring with soft knits, slouchy tank tops and shorts, and full skirts in updated preppy Kelly green-and-navy stripes, shibori tie-dyes or painterly, pixelated florals. His convertible trench dress -- it has a double-layer bodice that becomes sleeveless when the top layer is pulled down and the sleeves are left to hang by the waist -- was pure genius, the essence of stripping it all off for summer. And in a week full of hats, his straw fedoras with pleated brims were adorable.
Behnaz Sarafpour’s was also a happy collection, full of patio party clothes -- a tan waffle-knit palm print coat, a white rattan weave shift with coral embroidery at the neck, a textured, grass green ombré strapless dress and another in a wood grain print.
Peter Som, recently hired to take over Bill Blass, is another designer on the move. Although he won’t show his first collection for that venerable house until February, his own long line citron cardigan and cloudy gray seersucker slacks, pixel print tweed chiffon dress and silver floral Jacquard jacket worn over a full, superfine denim skirt are already looking like next-generation ladies’ classics.
It was curious that Phillip Lim, a young designer who has skyrocketed to fame because his clothes have such widespread appeal and accessible prices, would choose to have such a small show, for just 500, and leave so many people waiting outside. He introduced his new shoes for Birkenstock, adorable riffs on the classic sandals in bright reds and yellows or zebra stripes that looked Roman with multiple straps and buckles. He also pushed into evening wear more than ever, showing a sleeveless black cocktail sheath with fringe around the armholes and several unremarkable jersey goddess gowns.
Cutting such a wide swath diluted his vision. Lim’s strong point is sportswear, and that’s not an easy thing to do -- a great denim blue suede safari shirt tucked into oversized trousers; a gold boyfriend jacket that can be worn over anything; the perfect navy silk trench coat with a knot detail near the shoulder; and an easy, double-breasted knit jacket in unexpected gold Lurex are the kind of universal pieces that keep his new SoHo store humming. And now that he’s signed a lease on Robertson Boulevard, I’m guessing they’ll keep his L.A. store humming too.
Perhaps it was the influx of cash from Liz Claiborne Inc. that made Narciso Rodriguez’s collection so exuberant. Besides his always superb tailoring, evidenced on a slate nylon coat that was anything but basic with a rounded back vent and slightly raised slash pockets in front, he used embroidery in the most incredible way, shading a nude cocktail dress with the light hand of an artist doing a charcoal drawing.
THE ESTABLISHMENT
AS for the old guard, the clothes may not have been as stimulating, but they were beautiful.
There were plenty of artistic touches in Michael Kors’ color-soaked collection too, from the vibrant embroidered pink “Van Gogh floral” shift to the “Seurat ruffled bikini.” But really, it was about 1970s and ‘80s sportswear with punchy Lurex tennis skirts, rainbow-striped sweaters, off-the-shoulder, tiered jersey dresses, even visors (they’re back!) and one particularly “Xanadu” black jersey halter jumpsuit.
Carolina Herrera always seems to be inspired by one artist or another; this season it was the watercolors of Jeremiah Goodman. There were a few nice pieces here, including a brick-colored oversized floral dress embroidered with black fan-like beading and an ivory silk top with circular lace inserts worn with what Herrera is calling “cocktail shorts.” But the collection was thin.
Every time you think Oscar de la Renta could never outdo his last collection, he does. Set against the sounds of what one editor referred to as a “hippie choir,” the clothes really were wondrous -- a beige hand-crocheted suit, a tortoiseshell embroidered skirt, a shiny ikat print dress worn by the lovely Chanel Iman. I swear, even Victoria Beckham cracked a little smile.
--
