Ignore the chaotic coiffures, the tardiness and the seats rammed with celebrities over at Marc Jacobs – the collection itself was as gorgeous as ever. Trading edgy austerity for brash sex appeal, the collection took us through Victoriana, transparent, barely-there throws and ladylike tailoring to shimmering black evening dresses with gorgeous draping, colourful shades of Americana and almost hakama-like skirts split high. The message didn't feel as strong or as consistent as his past couple of collections, but individual pieces will sell like hot cakes.
Zac Posen 's ode to the endless plains of the west (or something like that) began strongly with relatively subdued and inventive takes on what a grown-up Dorothy would have worn had the designer had his way. Posen's trademark tailoring was punctuated with exaggerated collars and wide-brimmed hats. Yes ma’am caps contrasted with figure hugging skirts and Lily Donaldson looked perfect in a soft yet spectacular evening gown.
Over at newly imported Preen, designers Thornton and Bregazzi brought out a veritable army of khaki, green and orange with razor-sharp white trousers, tightly wrapped dresses and not a little body-con thrown in though not even Zimmerman could pull off an ill-advised jumpsuit. The collection was edgy and cool though it felt more excessive than past collections. It felt like Desert Storm meets Goddess. The inspiration? American Gigolo and pit girls…
One of the must-sees of this season’s New York Fashion Week, Proenza Schouler 's show was a stellar heavy-hitter of street sass, pseudoregal pomp and luxe to spare. From the perfectly sexy-yet-chic waistcoats and Albertus Schwanepoel millinery to the gorgeous gold-leaf silk pieces at the end, the show astounded from start to end.
More restrained yet just as beautiful was Doo Ri Chung’s beautifully feminine collection which began with tenderly draped skirts and high-waisted trousers before progressing onto layers of tulle and lace and shades of soft minimalism. It was refreshing to see that while the rest of the fashion pack was off chasing the loudest and proudest colours, Chung focused resolutely on the cut and the finish and didn’t resort to theatrics to sell her show.
Also tastefully restrained was Narciso Rodriguez’s show, seamlessly incorporating Japanese influences into his architectural style in a softly angular collection that concluded with a wonderfully embroidered black and purple piece showed off by the now-omnipresent Agyness Deyn.
Rodarte’s take on Japonisme was on the one hand, refreshingly modern yet more Harajuku Fruit disaster than eastern cyber chic. It is always a huge risk whenever a designer experiments with anything involving or related to the terms “sci-fi”, “futuristic” or “wacky”. This didn’t do anything for me. There were some interesting pieces, from the Hussein Chalayan-meets-tatami skirt to the studded blue sandals, but irritatingly it was the more conventionally eastern (read: kimonos, florals) pieces that pulled the collection back from the brink. The finale with the opening of the doors and the outpouring of classic Rodarte was a nice touch, however.
Innovation abounded at Naoki Takizawa’s debut solo show as he revealed foil printed copper and sterling silver and interesting technology in the form of a “memory system technique” that allows fabrics to keep their original appearance. The rest of the collection was hit and miss with beautiful touches to individual pieces but paradoxically, its eccentricity never worked insofar that it never felt coherent or together as a whole.
Finally, Anna Sui’s shows are always a pleasure to behold and this season’s was no exception. Infectiously enthusiastic to the point of delirium, her collection was a stake to the heart of fashion week humdrum. Acid brights and neon blasts of colour were mated with funky pink short pop socks and hair that would have made even Shannyn Sossamon think twice. The look was a luxe take on punky meets cutesy with a whole lotta Bugsy Malone thrown in, with the tiniest of shorts and the brashest of colours colliding – favourably – with girly neckties, striking prints and svelte one-piece swimsuits. Best of all? The beams on the faces of the models. Bruna Tenorio looked absolutely charming while the famously brooding Sasha Pivovarova was more dippy than demonic. Wonderful.
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