HotelFashionMoment by Jeffrey Slonim

February 15th, 2010 by HFL Staff received Comments Off

Day 5:  Are We Alive; Marc in a box.

The 9 a.m. call time for Zac Posen’s show made me so nervous, I couldn’t get to bed until like 3:30 a.m.  Later in the day, on Tues, supermodel Coco Rocha, mentioned that she had to be there at the Altman Building where the show took place at, like, 6:00 a.m.   Ouch. But she had had her head on the pillow by 11:00 p.m.


Had breakfast at a dive around the corner from Zac’s show with a well known photog who claimed that Anna Wintour hates being in Milan, so, in her honor, they have all the shows in a very few days there.  Imagine the power… Well, AW showed up on time for Zac.  But some fashionistas didn’t, and my row wasn’t quite so full when the show kicked off.  Zac mentioned afterwards that with this show, he wanted to display the process of constructing the dresses.  Apparently, that was why a few of them appeared unfinished.  There were several knock out pieces.  Depending upon your stand about fur, the slightly deconstructed furs in bright colors, pelts showing, were Furtastic.  Posen also hit the dress over sheer shirt trend and the side panel thing. Some getups and coats looked exactingly finished.  Others appeared to be sewn together remnants.  What I missed from the high production value shows that Zac used to do at the tents, was the cohesiveness.  But the short red velvet dresses—trend alert—were smashing. The kid is serious talent.  Go Z.  Carolina Herrera displayed her usual big dress glamour with lots of major ruffles draggin’ behind.  And a truckload of socials showed as usual, but this unsocial only knows about the clothes through pics.  Zipped home, skipped the show, and didn’t wake again until Jill Stuart at noon.  Personally, I find Stuart lovely. I hear she’s a huge deal in Japan.  And she’s a second-generation designer.  Her mom had a big company in the sixties.  But I think it is time for her to maybe light the fire under the young ones in her office to perk up her runway look.  The line appeared clunky and not fun.  The last model’s boots were so awkward, it appeared as if she might be crippled.  And I overheard a major fashionista sitting near me quip, “Hellen Keller must have styled this one,” when patterns that should never have gone together did. That said, Anna Lynn McCord was wearing a backless brightly-sequined Jill in the front row and nearly caused a fashionista traffic jam before the show.  She looked so hot, the photogs and crews mobbed her.


On Greenwich street in the far West village, Donna Karan’s 25th anniversary collection also experienced pre-show gridlock when Demi Moore, in purple, Brook Shields, in pink sidled up to a newly single Susan Sarandon in the front row.  Donna really came through for the big event, with big ruffles, big coats, and pretty fur flourishes on the runway.  She, too, did the partial sheer thing.  The clothes were just spectacular enough for the big event, but still subdued and tasteful.  Demi, who flew in from Paris, Brooke, and Susan said they LOVED, backstage. Am I getting easy?


Chris Benz, too, wowed moi.  He comes from Bainbridge Island, near Seattle, and grew up in the coffee shop, thrift store set of the grunge-hip northwest.  His bright 1960s fluorescent furs, cool plaid jackets and shorts rock. His models are young. His customers are mod, and glam, groovylishous.  It seems as if his muse had thrifted in Palm Springs, but had a fabulous tailor. Benz is my pick for young one to watch… And then there was Marc Jacobs.  Well, here is the show…

I’ll only add that the behemoth stage set-like venue was built in the center of the giant 26th Street Armory on Lex.  And the walls and bench seating were then covered in unopened, flat, pristine cardboard boxes.  It had an arty, not cheap feel.  But it gave a hint of that episode on Get Smart, when the budget ran out at Control, and everyone had to sit on boxes.  The models were hiding behind paper that covered a wooden frame structure.  They remained absolutely still until they began walking, pinpointed by spotlights, weaving through the bench seating.  In years past, the Jacobs show has been plagued by press-mobbed celebs. Last year Gaga and Madonna showed up late, screwing up Marc’s timing. So Jacobs decided to take it in a very different direction this season.  This time around, it was all about the exquisite clothes. Hotel Fashion Moment sat in the balcony, a sauna skybox, so I could barely make out details, but, as the smoky rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow played endlessly, many dresses and coats shimmered on the runway as if the good witch herself had added the magic sparkle dust. Each coat, each pencil thin ballgown that billowed out on the floor, each purse, was classic Marc.  The editors, no longer in the shadow of Beyonce and Wynona Ryder, appeared blissful as they cheered, clapped, and then raced backstage to smooch one of fashion’s last livin’ darlin’s. To her credit, Anna Wintour took the gold in that fierce competition.


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