NEW YORK FASHION WEEK AUDIENCE
by Merle Ginsberg
Think the only fashion shows on the runway? Obsessing the minds and hearts of editors during Fashion Week is not what’s on the runway. It’s what their colleagues, contemporaries, competitors – from glossy mags, websites, blogs – are wearing. It’s a competitive sport. Almost a blood sport. Step into the setting of a show and you’re taking off your gloves. Possibly literally.
Some call it a game, a showoff. A match set. More like showing off, more like it. With high stakes. It’s called: “attention.”At the top rung, top fashion editors snag brand new sample from designers – or compete for the newest frocks (read: most pricey) at Bergdorf’s they got on special pre-order. They’ve got the shoes and bags to match – or mismatch – whatever this (or next) season dictates.
Next, front row society girls: designers’ top clients; they are often dressed by brands who want to be seen (and snapped) on their backs.
Then there’s influencers who also have their own much-perused diaries of daily outfits. If they’ve got thousands of style addicts clicking, they’re getting paid by brands to wear the best new clothes. They might have been flown in by them, too. Do they get to keep them? What do you think?
The level of envy, competition and cravings across the front rows and the back rows; you can smell it, like expensive obscure scent. Each show tends to have its emulators: at Michael Kors, it’s the Upper East Side look. At Ralph Lauren, it’s cabled cashmere. Another last resort way to compete is wear the sexiest thing you own, your lacy bra or shortest skirt. You’ll have photographers chasing you. And who knows who else.
I’ve left shows possessed with new handbags shapes, colors – you know, the ones plopped on the ground by the likes of Sarah Jessica Parker or Camilla Nickerson. Sure, they were gifted them– but that doesn’t mean I can’t covet. After all, as Hannibal Lecter asked Clarice early on: “What do you covet? You covet what you see.”
For what is fashion is not aspirational? Let the games begin.
Markarian
Alexandra O’Neill’s spring 2023 Markarian collection was presented “off campus,” at the highly appropriate Upper East Side’s old New York style (think: Edith Wharton novels) Ukrainian Institute of America. Built like a castle, designed in the 19th century in the French Renaissance style, it reflected O’Neill’s genuflection toward all things vintage and art history. With a wood paneled cocktail room and a winding carved mahogany carpeted staircase to the second floor, it was like a set built for a Hitchcock blonde – you could perfectly imagine Grace Kelly or Kim Novak winding wistfully down those stairs – in these exact perfect princess dresses. The models descended from the third floor onto the second like swans swimming gracefully downstream.
O’Neill’s known for her English garden party floral well-structured dresses, but she veered off into vintage style silhouettes of various eras: some 60’s feeling mini dresses, a mini Chanel style tweed suit (so popular with the young set – who seem to want to look like older socialites of the ‘80s), then some more formal looks like a right now va va voom liquid gold strapless stunner with a belt tied at the waist. Not usually one for trends, O’Neill’s spring did feature lots of way off-the-shoulder looks, some fit n’ flare midi cocktail soiree’ looks (1947 New Look, but it looks very new now). Her knockout looks, however – hero looks? heroine looks? – were full length, full skirted off shoulder ball gowns with tight waists – one in fuchsia, one, black. Calling all awards season stylists – check these out. A softer unstructured chiffon Grecian gown with a draped capelet would have disappeared had it been in black. Instead, it stunned in bright tangerine. Some savvy celebrity stylist will be snagging that one.
BIBHU
How do you make a gown – formal, black tie, stately, traditional– modern? There aren’t many designers who make feminine, wearable – so you aren’t dressed like a three layer birthday cake – full on maxi’s that check every box: simple, chic, flattering, skin-appropriate, interesting, with requisite movement – capable of standing out in semi-subtle ways. Same can be said for his stalwart cocktail dresses, not frou-frou-ed with beading, tulle, stiff fabrics or too-clingy bodycon stretch. Not everyone wants to go to an event looking like Kim Kardashian or Margaret Thatcher.
India-born New York designer Bibhu Mohapatra is the rare craftsman (a veteran of Halston and J. Mendel) who hits that sweet spot. For his spring show, he used the late German artist (tk) as a jumping off point; Cahun used masks her self-portraits,. “Instead of masks in the literal sense,” Bibhu stated in his spring 2023 program, “I tried to create many renditions of the Bibhu woman.” With hemlines long to midi to high/low, his silhouettes had nipped waists, disparate fabrics combos (black lace with gold lame’), sleeves (women over 40 thank you!) – in a palette of mostly solids in sky blue, corn yellow, ecru, cream and blush. There were even pleated balloon poof skirts, short in front, max in back – the silk equivaleent of a mullet. Personal favorites: an onyx silk faille gown with a spray of crystals and a floor length faille overskirt, and an alabaster strapless pleated chiffon with cape, full of swish and flow, softly glowing like a low beam headlight.
Badgley Mischka
In their hearts, James Badgley and James Mischka – the evening wear duo who’ve been turning out the frockiest of frocks since 1988 – love the ladies. I mean, literally. Their style for almost thirty vies years has rarely varied from uptown girl who’s all lady. Working mostly in champagne and ballet pink neutrals in the past, they churned out Oscar gowns in the nineties like Harry Styles now churns out hits. When actresses got snagged by corporate culture (Dior, Chanel, Gucci, Balenciaga, Armani), James and Mark held their ground with dependable bridesmaid, wedding, and black-tie wear, at a somewhat lower price point.
But their spring 2023 collection turned much more “flou” (fashion speak for “light ethereal, flirty, floaty, fanciful”) and a bit less “fancy.” After exotic trips to Marrakech and Casablanca, they began to envision desert colors of sky blue, candy and darker pinks, celery green – and of course, their best sellers, fitted tiny sequin encrusted suits and curvy dresses in technicolor, that reek of being pricier than they are. While some white feather mini’s sneaked into the collection (for daughters of), the best of their evening pieces were more fluid. A standout: evening separates in two tones of pink, one a cropped puffed sleeved blouse, the skirt a ruffly wrapped maxi – with a strip of skin peaking out in between the two. Yes, they made good use of pink: a darker shade for a long loose maxi shift with thicker embellished straps, a coral shade on a ruffled high necked gown in soft silk chiffon. One pink look was a long languid body-skimming ballet pink gown with a volume-happy pink opera swing coat to the floor – looking like a peignoir set from a Grace Kelly movie.
All in all, it actually was Hitchcock blonde: the lanky lady meets sultry film noir. Splendor and slink in just one woman? That’s what you call soigne for a swanky right-now soiree.
