NYFW is almost at a close. Soon the gaggles of models will move onto London and New York will get a little quieter (but don’t worry The New Yorker festival and Comic Con are coming up fast). Here are some highlights from day seven of NYFW.
The Proenza boys are ready start making real money. With new investors, a first flagship in the Uppermost echelon of the New York shopping grid, and plans for more (maybe L.A.? maybe Asia?), the once underexposed brand is revving towards LVMH and PPR and fashion conglomeration. Lucrative handbag business, check. Next on the financing list is a fragrance, fashion’s democratizing moneymaker. What’s that? The clothes? This spring season, Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez produced another cohesive collection in their (art in the age of the laziest of magazine copy reproduction) ”downtown cool” meets “uptown chic” signature style. Jean jacket vests in python leather. Gerhard Richter inspired tweeds. Alaïa black eyelet. The design standard hasn’t changed, and for those of you that weren’t familiar, that’s a compliment.
Oh no he didn’t. Here are a few of the possible answers to the one obvious question: what the fuck was he thinking? 1. Jeremy Scott watched M.I.A.’s “Bad Girl” video too many times, 2. Jeremy Scott is trying to cater to the underexploited market of UAE oil baronesses, 3. Scott is on page with Tara Subkoff of Imitation of Christ and the veil is his solution to fashion week’s objectification and mirror neuroses, 4. Scott has been reading Frantz Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks and had decided to quit fashion and become art’s leading provocateur, 5. Jeremy Scott recently killed a man and this brilliant P.R. stunt is sure to divert attention from that news.
It’s the day after the anniversary of 9/11, and we’ve heard the terrible news from Libya, and Jeremy Scott is parading black and white models out in hijabs with no pants, Pretty Woman boots, and fitted ballcaps. Did we not lambast Sex and the City 2 enough? You are not Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy, go back to the freedom fries.
Elizabeth & James
You know what, fine. If the Olsen twins say it, then I’ll believe it: the pantsuit is back. For many women born between 1983-1993, the Olsen twins can do no wrong. We grew up with them, and have relied on them as sartorial role models from the days of matching scrunchies through Passport to Paris, NYU student bohemia, and still now. Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen design clothes that they could/would/do wear. The Row’s price point is prohibitive for those who aren’t infinitely wealthy or willing to exercise their Visa valued customer status just to own a t-shirt. Elizabeth & James is more reasonable, and this season, the lower line is showing nearly as much elegance and as many pantsuits at its richer, older sister.
It’s really pretty and all but I’m not sure we’re comfortable saluting Reed’s flight of fancy quite yet. Just read Cintra Wilson, okay?