Fashion Week: New York

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February 11, 2008

A unique establishment in the East Village

If you ever find yourself stuck for a place to stay in the East Village, be sure to call upon Jeffrey Lohn and his lovely family, who very kindly put me up for a few nights at short notice when I was staying in New York last week. The Lohns have converted their 19^th century townhouse in to a small guesthouse, with four rooms for guests. The rooms are clean and simply decorated, and his prices are reasonable to the point of being unfabulous—$85 a night in Manhattan is not to be sniffed at. It’s a bright, no-frills environment, with free wireless internet, cable television in each room and kitchen facilities if you fancy cooking lunch or dinner for yourself.
If you’re looking for a luxe Manhattan hotel experience, this may not be the place for you. But for a little slice of home, this is the perfect base. When I fell sick with a terrible ‘flu, Jeffrey and his wife played nurse, bringing me orange juice and milk, and checking in on me regularly. And when I was uninspired, Jeffrey told me about his art rock band from the late 1970s, Theoretical Girls. I looked them up, and it turns out Theoretical Girls was one of the most influential of New York’s "no wave" bands, launching the careers of two of the city’s best known experimental music figures, Glenn Branca and Wharton Tiers (who went on to produce Sonic Youth).
I ended up staying for a week. One day a young British couple checked in—there must be music in the water because it turned out the guy plays in The Paddingtons, whose guitarist is currently dating model Agyness Deyn. He told me what it was like being photographed by Hedi Slimane for Slimane’s “London: Birth of a Cult” coffee table book, which prominently featured The Paddingtons alongside Pete Doherty. I ran into him and his girlfriend the morning after The Paddingtons had performed the Anna Sui fashion week party, and he admitted he was feeling a bit worse for wear.  “We’ve been twatted every night since we arrived,” he said. (For those not familiar with the British vernacular, "twatted" means very, very drunk).
For details on the guesthouse, email The Stylephile.

February 11, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (10)

Project Runway fierceness

Exposed zippers and sagging backs aside, there was much to enjoy at the Project Runway catwalk show, not least the front row—Harvey Weinstein, Victoria Beckham, Niki Taylor, Tyson Beckford, and Heidi Klum provided plenty of eye candy for when the runway looks were too much to bear.
The two standout designers were Rami Kashou, whose flowing, feminine and perfectly-draped looks were an easy sell. Christian Siriano’s intricately-feathered, high-glamour looks aimed far higher than Kashou’s, grasping for haute couture drama, and ultimately leaving the biggest impression on the audience. Not bad for a 21-year-old whose vocabulary seems to comrpise of “that’s fierce”.
The show’s double finales are scheduled to air on Feb 27 and March 5 on Bravo.

February 11, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (7)

Black, red and un-dead: Rad Hourani

Rad Hourani, a Montreal-based stylist turned designer, calls himself an “anti-conformist”. Which adds up—he has had no formal fashion training, and works only in a palette of red and black, with the occasional splash of white. He showed his first collection in Paris last year, to some acclaim. And the memory of his New York show on Friday continues to haunt me. I can’t shake the sight of his army of un-dead models (including folk dancing supermodel Coco Rocha), with their deathly complexions and limp, poker straight hair. His designs were stark, industrial, and somewhat relentless, a dark and bloody, military parade of rectangular layered fabrics and leathers, pieced over each other, like futuristic Goth club armor. Most memorable was the jacket whose arms were affixed to the sides of the body—a straight-jacket for the fashion-conscious, if you will?
I applaud his mission and wondered—how far is he planning on taking this monochrome dirge? All the way to the bank, it seems—his website features new sections for eyewear, jewelry, shoes, bags, and perfume. Anti-conformist or not, Hourani knows the formula.

February 11, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

February 7, 2008

Judith Ripka’s Family Jewels

For women of a certain stature, the Judith Ripka temporary store in the tents at Bryant Park has provided a most agreeable pit-stop in between shows. Tucked in between the DHL mailing center and the LYCRA café, Judith Ripka’s space is dominated by a glass cabinet containing all manner of diamonds, white gold and stones the size of Jamaica. I popped in and said hello to the lovely young lady working there, and she kindly agreed to model some of their pieces for me. Pretty, right?
The Monaco ring is $14,000, the diamond bangle is $14,700, the diamond cuff is $12,500 and the earrings are $65,000.
Which is all in a day’s shopping, for some.

February 7, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

Monique Lhullier: it's all in the details

Ostrich feather dresses, peacock feather corsages, fox fur stoles—Monique Lhullier’s utterly sensual collection nodded to silent movie glamour and—Oscars or no Oscars—gave us hope for some very beautiful red carpet  moments to come.
No stylized shapes or geometric silhouettes here—Lhullier’s fabrics rolled like soft fogs down her models' bodies. Colors were classic and romantic—shades of rain cloud, warm green and gold—and fabrics were sensual (liquid silks, velvets and satins).
But it was the details, understated yet beautiful flourishes that added luxury and drama to the looks, without ever overstepping in to gaudiness. For instance—an otherwise simple green satin frock became extraordinary thanks to a collar made of blue peacock feathers. A dove gray chantilly lace gown with a plunging neckline was brought to life by explosions of ostrich feather along the column skirt. What looked like an antique bejeweled collar added gravitas to a blue velvet embroidered coat.
With this textured, eminently romantic collection, Lhullier masterfully melded luxury with sophistication, femininity with thoughtfulness, and old-age glamour with modern-day class.

February 7, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

Badgley Mischka’s social diary

The Badgley Mischka collection was pure anthropology, providing us with a deep insight into the daily cycle of a unique species: Trustfundia Maximus, aka Badgley Mischka Babe.
First thing a Badgley Mischka Babe does, (after kissing her investment banker boyfriend and putting on her diamonds), is head to Barneys wearing a floppy black Bianca Jagger hat, metallic tweed skirt suit, black turtle neck and knee high “money is no object” suede boots.
Then she rushes to a luncheon to raise money to save the Tasmanian Devil/end Spinal Bifida/celebrate the Boating Committee, for which she’ll need to change in to a pretty floral silk dress worn with heavy gold jewels and a chocolate pea coat with furry cuffs. She’ll be seated next to her friend, Contessa Mariella Von Mortimer-Arpels (another Badgley Mischka Babe), who looks fab in an orange turtleneck with sassy flared-leg gray pants and a mini sleeveless jacket that looks like it was made from luxurious rare feathers.
After lunch, time for a quick manicure with mother. For this, our Badgley Mischka Babe agonizes between a tweedy knee-length pencil skirt suit with mottled green silk blouse shirt, or the wonderful green tartan knee length skirt and tweed jacket with pine green turtleneck that reminds you of that time you drank tea with the Queen of England at Balmoral.
Evening time is gala time. Tonight it’s a charity fundraising ball to save the Half-Toed Furry Alaskan Lemur, which is in danger of extinction. Luckily you have a plenty of Badgley Mischka strapless numbers in your closet, like a figure-hugging bustier gown covered in crystals and even that adorable spangly flapper dress, perfect for taking the dance floor by storm. And then at midnight, Badgley Mischka Babe heads back to her Upper East Side brownstone, where her investment banker boyfriend unzips her gown and softly whispers that he’s bought her an island.

February 7, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

Italians do it better

Standing in the check-in line for the Nanette Lepore show, I encountered a very sad-looking Italian security man. I asked him what was wrong. Someone had tossed out his kawfee, he told me. His friend over at the coffee bar had made his cappuccino perfectly, just how he likes it. He put it down on the check-in table for one second--and then it was gone. “I don’t need much,” he said in his heavy Hoboken accent. “I just need my kawfee in the morning.” He had a few pockmarks in his skin, dark hair slicked back and a heavy overcoat.
I saw him giving the evil eye to one of the check-in women. “It was her” he said. “She took my kawfee.” Then he launched into the most colorful list of expletives, explaining that she was on his hit list for the rest of fashion week. You don’t throw out an Italian’s morning coffee and expect not to pay for it. I offered him my Mocha Latte but he shook his head. He was inconsolable.
I was ushered on, where another security guard, older, with slightly thinning slicked-back salt and pepper hair, was keeping an eye on the crowd of guests. He pointed to the cup of Joe in my hand. “No kawfee in the tents, Miss.” Wow – another wise guy!  He was stern, no-nonsense and magnificent. I tossed out my cup immediately and remembered Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” video. This guy, I realized, actually was Papa.
Inside the tents I noticed a hub of activity around front row. Around a dozen photographers were taking pictures of a magnificently busted, no-nonsense looking woman. She looked so familiar, and yet I couldn’t place her face. “Who is she?” I asked the paparazza next to me. “No idea,” she said, snapping away. Then the penny dropped—it was Lorraine Bracco. Star of "Goodfellas". Star of "The Sopranos". Mama mia.
I took a picture, sat back down, and savored the flavor of Little Italy.

February 7, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

February 4, 2008

Alexandre Herchcovitch’s hard geometry

Backstage, Brazilian fashion designer Alexandre Herchcovitch seemed like a perfectly normal, balanced kind of guy. But if you were to judge him by what he sent down the catwalk—an army of angular jet black looks followed by a series of Technicolor dream coats—you’d  think him a raving schizophrenic.
More simply put, this show was an experiment in color, rhythm and geometry. Not fashion.
The first segment of the show was where we saw him play with shape. A barrage of shadowy looks, seemingly made from the same sheet of shroud-like, coal-black fabric, showed his variations on the same theme. He’d shift an angle here, bundle the fabric there, slice out a shoulder or add a belt, stretching his creativity, always in a controlled and precise manner.
Because the changes were so subtle, it was sometimes difficult to tell the difference between the pieces.
Then—gasp—he started sneaking in color, his grim army marching on but giving us flashes of orange and blue in the linings.
And then—Green Tartan. Black Tartan. Green and Black Tartan in pretty, mini hourglass silhouettes. And a series of looks based on the same, Archer’s Target print, the lines of the simple, elliptical design perfectly tracing the contours of the models’ bodies.
I gotta tell you, like Lou Reed’s “Metal Machine Music”, this collection seemed simple enough in concept, but was surprisingly challenging to absorb. That’s because it was largely devoid of emotion. How very un-Brazilian of him. (Interestingly, the opening and closing soundtrack was by Laurie Anderson, Lou Reed's girlfriend).
But I’m sure that’s exactly how Herchcovitch meant it to be, because when he felt like making something appealing, he did. And of course, he nailed it. (This happened once for every four or five looks.)
He ended in the perfect note, transitioning through the color spectrum to peak at a perfect orange, presenting us with a sweet diaphanous mini dress the color of pure sunset. A snow-white ending would have been too obvious for Mr. Herchcovitch, I’m sure.
(PS: One of his models, Geanine Marques, was worryingly thin, with hollowed cheeks, stick thin arms and sunken features. I’m all for non-traditional beauty, but this girl just needs a sandwich. Apparently she’s been modeling for Herchcovitch since he started designing nearly twenty years ago, and is a singer. Listen for yourselves.)

February 4, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

Get on your knees and pray, it's Loden Dager

Loden Dager brought new meaning to the term “church suit” when they staged their Fall/Winter show in a seminary on Manhattan’s Lower East Side.
There were no hats, gloves or rosaries in the church, but we did see several male models slouching in stained glass windows, looking just how Catholic saints oughtta look—divine.
Loden Dager is a five-person design collective comprising two main designers, Oliver Helden and Paul Marlow, who decided to start the label while working together at Marc by Marc Jacobs. Within 24 hours of a very productive lunch, they found a backer, Melissa Vail, to take care of the business side of Loden Dager. Matthew Sandager takes care of graphic design and photography, and Alexander Galan looks after public relations. The name Loden Dager is a mix of their surnames.
And now, they are officially hot shit.
 Winner of the Ecco Domani Fashion Foundation award for new talent, they were featured in Paper magazine last month, are putting out a record by music makers The Great Lakes, and, in the ultimate hipster nod—one of the Blonde Redhead guitar twins was at the church party. Praise Jesus! In fact, Loden Dager are so of the moment, they have been guest blogging on “The Moment”, the New York Times' style blog.

Despite all this chatter, the show itself was, perfectly well-spoken. It was, I hear, less queer than their previous “fashion installations”, which have drawn inspiration from the transgender, cross-dressing and dyke communities. But color was still strong (the label uses custom-dyed fabrics only), and Loden Dager continues to provide us with intelligent, practical men’s looks that would fit just as well on a 1960s Parisian student protestor as they would on Al Pacino in “The Panic in Needle Park” (both of which are cited as influencing of the line).
At this moment, Loden Dager’s hot shit continues to steam.

Buy Loden Dager at Odin, Ron Herman, and Hejfina.

February 4, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

Jack Kerouac’s boots

These boots were made for walking—they belonged to original Beat Jack Kerouac, whose diet of red wine, peyote and cross-country road trips have inspired generations of seekers to hit the tar.
The shoes, along with various other Kerouac artifacts, are currently on display at the New York Public Library, as part of an exhibit called “Beatific Soul: Jack Kerouac On The Road”. For anyone with an interest in the Beats, it’s a must-see. (His wistful, scuffed work boots for a start—you can a lot about a person from their shoes, and these have “alcoholic Buddhist-Catholic iconoclast” written all over them.)
The first thing you are met with is a 50 foot long typescript scroll, the manuscript of "On The Road" typed on endless connected sheets of architectural paper, unfurled so that they travel along the length of the hall to create one long, uninterrupted “road” of prose. It is peppered with edits made by Kerouac himself—he substituted the word “fucking” with “balling” on several occasions, because of his publisher’s concerns about profanity. You’ll find original letters written between Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs, Neal Cassady, Herbert Hunke and Kerouac, in which they discuss the growing Beat revolution. (Herbert Huncke, a bisexual Times Square hustler, reluctant writer, junkie and Kinsey subject, had introduced Kerouac to the notion of “beat” as metaphysical condition in 1946...the photographs of Huncke, jaded, sunken and decayed, are truly moving.)
I love the profile photograph of Kerouac shot by Allen Ginsberg, the displays of Kerouac’s own paintings and sketches, and excerpts from his impassioned writings on Buddhism, which describe why he thought Zen was the Devil’s work. And then there are the candid photographs of Kerouac with his third wife Stella, taken shortly before his death in 1969 a from liver cirrhosis.
For those fashionistas currently in New York, the library (right next to the tents) really is a great place to hang out in between shows. Simply check in your heavy gift bags at the cloakroom (marvelous invention) take a stroll around the Kerouac exhibit, and visit the wonderful bookstore. Then make like you don’t have a Blackberry/iPhone and check your email at one of the computers on the third floor. Refuse the instinct to shun such vulgar communal practices and instead, feel those wood-paneled walls, absorb the learnedness...you’ll be rewarded with far more than your recommended daily dose of inspiration.

Beatific Soul: Jack Kerouac On The Road is at the New York Public Library’s Humanities and Social Sciences Library until February 24, and then again from March 1 – 16.

February 4, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

Erin Fetherston's fairyland

If Becky Stark was hosting a Rapunzel-themed tea party on the banks of the strawberry river, then she’d do well to pick Erin Fetherston as her stylist. Despite an all-black, dare we say Goth start, Fetherston’s Fall/Winter 08 collection (called “Love Sprung”) packed no further punches because, let’s face it, princesses don’t wear boxing gloves. The remainder of the show was an ethereally pretty, uber-girly haze of flowing floral silks, empire-waisted velvets and shiny satins worn with tights, ballet flats and Alice bands. Hair was long and romantic, adorned with floral headdresses and strategically placed ringlets. After a few minutes in Fetherston’s Femme Fairyland I started longing for some flannel shirts and work boots just to balance things out, but this was a one-way trip down Fetherston’s rabbit hole.
The standout piece was a floral print, empire-waist dress that was short in the front and then flared in to a long train in the back, perfect for wearing when traversing a looking glass.













Anne Hathaway, attired in Fetherston, was seated front row with her Prince Charming. Hollywood stylist Rachel Zoe was a pretty little Tinkerbell in a silvery, shimmery one-shouldered Featherston creation.
While this collection probably won’t be remembered as one of her most innovative, everyone who was in Fetherston’s tent that day is sure to smell of roses for weeks to come.
(Fetherston recently launched a limited edition collection for Target)

February 4, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

Duckie Brown stays strong and silent

You could have heard a pin drop during Friday’s Duckie Brown show, which was conducted in funereal silence throughout. It was an interesting move on their part, freeing up the audience’s senses and encouraging us to focus on just one thing—the clothes. Novel idea!
The show featured 21 largely somber, tailored looks in a palette of charcoal, onyx and storm cloud, with splashes of burgundy and green thrown in to lift the recessionary mood a little. This Fall/Winter 08 collection was considerably more muted than their Spring/Summer offerings, which featured floral prints, gaudy golds and canary yellow trench coats.
Despite the depressed mood (we’re at war, remember?), youthful splashes like Duckie Brown’s trademark oversized beanie hats, spangled shirts and reflective nylon windbreakers worn over suits, injected a baggy, collegiate insouciance in to what could have been an overly pessimistic collection.
Seated next to me was Celeste Harwell, an Associate Publisher at TIME Style and Design magazine. We agreed that the silence was golden, and enjoyed the gentle rustle of cameras shuttering as the models made their turns. “I love that sound,” purred Celeste. Being that I’m a New York Fashion Week ingénue, she pointed out who was seated front row. There was iconic fashion photographer (and former milliner) Bill Cunningham, whose “On The Street” column for the New York Times is required reading for anyone with stylish blood running through their veins. (I later spotted L.A.’s queen of celebrity style Rachel Zoe rightfully paying her respects. “I’m such a huge fan,” she gushed.) Seated next to Cunningham was the Washington Post’s fashion commentator Robin Givhan, whose no-nonsense take on politico style (tough beat!) earned her the Pulitzer Prize for criticism in 2006, a first for a fashion writer.
Click here to read Givhan’s take on what the election frontrunners are wearing, and why.
 

February 4, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (2)

Bored at Fashion Week? So shop!

Genius move on the part of Alice + Olivia to locate their flagship boutique a mere stone’s throw from Bryant Park. On the first day of shows, I snuck out of the humid tents, dashed across the street in the pouring rain, and took advantage of their 65% off sale. (For those of you who happen to be in New York at present, the 65% off rack is on your right, as you walk in the store.) The sale assistant told me that during Fashion Week they do generally see an increase in foot traffic, although things had been a little slow “because of the rain”. Amazing how just a few droplets of water can scare the living daylights out of fashionistas and their hair do’s.
It’s their loss, as the black and white store features some fun details, like an enormous carved wooden throne doused in black gloss and huge ebony chandelier. Decorating the inside wall of one of the dressing room is a print of a man taking a pee against a wall. (Which is far less gross than it sounds.) Not to mention the clothes—when Alice + Olivia launched in 2002 at Barneys, the line was an instant success thanks to their super-flattering pants and luxurious cashmere sweaters. And not much has changed.
Alice + Olivia
80 W. 40th St.
New York NY 10018
212 840 0887

February 4, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

January 31, 2008

Preen's edgier side

I first came across British label Preen when I spotted their collection for Top Shop in London a little while back. Among the many many thousands of items of clothing in the monolithic store, somehow their delicate, forward designs stood out to me. Now I hear that the label's designers, Justin Thornton and Thea Bregazzi, are creating a younger, edgier spin-off label, Preen Line, being debuted on Feb. 8 during Copenhagen Fashion Week. Preen was already pretty young and edgy to start out with, so I'm curious to see what they have in mind...
Preen was launched in 1996 with a store in London's Notting Hill, with influences ranging from Victoriana to deconstructionism.
Preen will show its new looks at New York Fashion Week next week. The designers swear their plan is to re-locate back to London Fashion Week eventually, but we say stay, take your time, preen a little...

January 31, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (0)

January 28, 2008

The Stylephile's New York Survival Guide

Hell ya—The Stylephile is getting ready to pack her bags and ship out to the Big Apple for a grueling week of air-kissing, subway hopping and yes, fashion. New York Fashion Week kicks off on Saturday and I'm super excited to be checking out shows like Duckie Brown, Alexandre Herchcovitch, Erin Featherston, Vera Wang, and Project Runway, among others, all in the tents at Bryant Park. Off-site, I'll also be reporting direct from the Cynthia Rowley, Jenni Kayne and Trasteverine shows, amongst others. I hear none other than Candance "Carrie Bradshaw" Bushnell (pictured) will be cutting the ribbon to formally mark New York Fashion Week's kick-off on Friday (not Saturday), and I'll be there to report back on the height of her Blahnik heels.
Believe it or not, there's something peculiarly draining about watching fashion show after fashion show, and I already have my fashion week survival strategy in place.
First off, I'll be bringing lots and lots of Vitamin B—B is the bomb when it comes to keeping you energized.
Second, I am going to make like I'm in AA, meaning no crazy boozing. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that too much champagne doesn't actually mix that well with fashion week (unless you're a model and have mountains of cocaine/heroin being offered to you to keep you focused).
Third, I've joined a gym for the week. That's right, I found a gym within spitting distance of the tents that offers a two week trial for $20. So when I'm not taking notes from the runway, I'll be doing hatha yoga or a spin class, not mindlessly shopping or eating pizza to kill time between shows. (This step was inspired by John Galliano, who rises at 6a.m. each morning and jogs along the banks of the Seine in order to stay centered.)
Fourth, after much searching, I found the perfect pair of Fashion Week Boots. They are black, simple, platform soled, chunky high heel mid-calf boots which go with everything, make me four inches taller than God intended and yet are still unbelievably comfortable. They are also fur-lined for warmth, and best of all, they only cost me $35. Thanks H&M.
And fifth, I'm bringing earplugs. My travel companion has hooked us up with a nice place to stay on the Lower East Side. It belongs to her new love interest and today she informed me that they have already figured out their lovemaking schedule. So, like I say...I'm bringing earplugs.

January 28, 2008 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

February 14, 2005

Final Fashion Week Blackberry Report (NYC)

Leave it to Jeremy Scott. Many finished off their fashion week with his show and not J. Los (which was also Friday night), forgoing the inevitable chaos at Mrs. Anthonys presentation. And Scott gave fashion hounds just what they came for, keeping all the theatrics on the runway. He might just be the only designer who could even conceive of combining football-jersey chic (hints of which we saw at his spring 05 show) with Japanese kabuki, samurai, revolvers and butterflies. Go figure. But the clothes will sure look fabulous on the Harajuku District kids in Tokyo. Maybe well even see Scotts muse, Paris Hilton, in one of the butterfly gowns ...

February 14, 2005 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (2)

February 11, 2005

Fashion Week Blackberry Report, Part III (NYC)

It was the second to last day of fashion week and the wear was definitely showing. Thankfully for the cognoscenti, Peter Soms show was relatively calm. His take on some of the coming seasons biggest trends -- loads of velvet, poufed sleeves, schoolgirl-y chic -- were some of the most refined and wearable yet. Standouts include a fierce charcoal bomber jacket with fox collar (sure to have a waiting list) and a short, robe-like red velvet dress that had a slight 20s feel. And should Marc Jacobs Wednesday Addams muse need a dinner date, one of Soms riskier looks was an Edwardian-style black velvet tuxedo jacket with frilly white blouse over knickers, perfect for the Eddie Munster in all of us. Stay tuned for more ...

February 11, 2005 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

February 10, 2005

Fashion Week Blackberry Report, Part II (NYC)

Obviously, these are clothes for supermodels and actresses only, bemoaned one not-exactly-supermodel-sized fashionista at Roland Mouret's stunning show in lower Manhattan. Indeed, Mouret's pencil-thin skirts and dresses cut an unforgiving silhouette for those not permanently attached to their treadmills. But the show was a standout of femme fatale chic, of skintight, knee-length skirts, high-waisted pants and corsetted waists inspired, Mouret says, by power and sensuality and '40s France. The designer, who made a red carpet statement with Scarlett Johannsen's dress for the Golden Globes, was a statement-maker again this week. Stay tuned for more ...

February 10, 2005 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

February 9, 2005

Fashion Week Blackberry Report, Part I (NYC)

The crowd at Marc Jacobs show Monday night was hardly crazy in love with Beyonce and Jay Z, who were to blame for the show starting an hour and a half late. When the couple finally showed up, boos and catcalls were heard throughout the venue, causing even Vogues Hamish Bowles to wince. The models sashayed to the Smashing Pumpkins "Tonight," a perfect accompaniment for the romantic goth, mostly charcoal and black clothes. Unfortunately for the hip-hoppin late-comers, the heavy-wool, tulip-shaped skirts and drapey, full satin gowns Jacobs sent down the runway are much more fit for Wednesday Addams than Ms. Bootylicious. Stay tuned for more ...

February 9, 2005 in FASHION WEEK: NEW YORK | Permalink | Comments (1)

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