So many important things happened this morning! Graydon Carter announced that he will soon step down as editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair, Somsack Sikhounmuong, Jenna Lyons’ replacement, left J.Crew, Shopbop rebranded (and there is a lot of Kendall + Kylie to show for it) and even though signs have been pointing to fashion week’s launch since Tuesday, today really inaugurates the beginning of the weeklong festival. Festival of what? Pretending no one is confused or unsure of their place in this world, of course! But why kick it off so pessimistically? September is a fab month in New York. The sun is shining, vacations have not yet been forgotten and the clothes we see, renderings of a future us, serve as a sparkling reminder that summers don’t leave forever.
On Tuesday night over dinner at the Met Breuer, Rachel Comey drove this point home subversively with loads of thin layers and raffia visors and a dinner that consisted mostly of crustaceans and oysters served next to chilled wine. I took a couple of photos, but from my vantage point, obstructed by raw tuna, you couldn’t see much unless you used your real eyes, which was, perhaps the point. No question the show, split up into three sections, varied greatly in the intimacy it espoused compared to say, the spectacle Tom Ford threw last night at the Park Avenue Armory the following evening. That show was fun: neon satin pumps paired with skimpy body suits and leather track pants. In true Tom Ford fashion, a pair of long sleeve sparkly tops were worn with nothing but underwear.
It felt like an homage to the heyday of New York’s supermodel and ended with a party wherein topless men holding trays of drinks greeted the large deluge of show attendants.
Brock Collection, designed by Laura and Kristopher Brock, show their meditation on spring this afternoon. There were no topless men, but there were plenty of ruffles, which are kind of the same thing, if you think about it. Micro florals freckled a bunch of the dresses, which seemed appropriate for that never-ending 5 o’clock lemonade party in Connecticut you RSVP’d for. One of the things I like most about this brand is their commitment to the vision: it’s always unflinching femininity that is easy to execute. So infrequently can a brand prescribe an aesthetic without it feeling, you know, prescriptive, but with Brock’s straightforward dresses and twin sets, pencil skirts and puff sleeves, you get what you sign up for, and delightfully at that.
If you were looking for more out of the box styling tips, Creatures of Comfort — master of layering! — has you covered in night gowns that were paired with silk pants, dresses layered over one another (why hadn’t I thought of this?) and sweaters employed as elaborate waist belts wrapped at least three or four times around the model’s torso. In another look, a sweatshirt was worn tied the regular way, but just below the model’s boob line. I liked that, too. There were visors and straw hats with the crowns cut and bandanas peeking through underneath, but perhaps the most important newsflash to emerge from this show was a nod toward the return of I-am-talking-Olsen-style-gigantic handbags. I’m ready for it. Are you?
Runway photos via Vogue Runway.