As you read this, I will like as not be sitting on a front row somewhere in Manhattan.
It’s New York Fashion Week, the first of the four biggest fashion weeks, with London, then Milan and Paris to come after that. We are here to see what’s newest and freshest on planet fashion.
Among the questions in my mind at this precise moment? What will the latest manifestation of Tory Burch’s ever more on-point finessing of modern womanhood look like? (She shows tonight.) The collection the designer showed last season, the one that’s hitting the stores now, was one of my favorites of the entire fashion month, her bravura clashing of color and texture (a burgundy patent skirt with a scarlet knit) definitely something my wardrobe, not to mention heart, is crying out for.
And then, question number two, will Michael Kors out-quip as well as out-design the opposition on Friday? Assuredly. His backstage previews are always as entertaining as they are inspiring. And as for his shows… landing in boutiques now are faux fur coats as big as the Ritz, in sweetshop colors to boot, plus a newfangled phenomenon I am calling fishtail trousers. (They come with an inbuilt train, no less.) What next, Michael?
More questions from me for the weeks ahead. In London we will bear witness to the return to the catwalk of Christopher Kane, one of the city’s most original talents, with his debut for Mulberry. How will he square the brand’s heritage with his love of innovation? Then, in Milan, Demna Gvasalia, formerly of Balenciaga, will continue to finesse his opinion-dividing vision for Gucci. Will more people say yay or more say nay? Finally, last but not least, there will be another design-off in Paris between two of the hottest names in fashion right now, Matthieu Blazy at Chanel and Jonathan Anderson at Dior.
But I already know the most gripping fashion show for me over the month ahead – the greatest fashion show on earth, in fact, to paraphrase PT Barnum – will be the one that is insouciantly put on by my fellow frowers. What, or rather – to use, fashion parlance – who are they wearing?
Related article: Confessions of… a Fashion Editor
Insouciance is, in fact, the key word, because the fashion pack don’t like to look as if they are trying too hard. Truman Capote famously wrote about the swans of New York high society, and it’s still rather swan-like on the front row. Think perfect plumage and placidity above water even if those feet are paddling determinedly below. The greatest style achievement of all these days is to look effortless. So it’s a very particular tightrope that the frowers navigate, one that ensures we appear – more industry vocabulary incoming – current, but never try-hard.
This is why the aesthetic tends to skew simple, the favored brands more stealth luxury than look-at-me. The Row, Lemaire, and Phoebe Philo are permanently in favor. Think a crisp cotton shirt here, perhaps from Bottega Veneta – everyone is loving what Louise Trotter is doing there at the moment – the perfect pair of jeans and flats there, both very possibly from Alaïa. And then, perhaps, a single flourish. An intricate “Matthieu” jacket. A bit of “Jonathan” embellishment. A “new Chanel” heel or bag.
To examine the front row is to ascertain what has best made the leap from last season’s catwalk to the real world, which thus focuses the mind on what is going to translate from this season’s. But what’s also fascinating is the constancy of it all. The very people who gather together twice a year to bear witness to all that is new in fashion tend to cleave to variations on the theme of classic. What they wear may be box-fresh but the tropes are eternal.
I think this is partly because the fashion pack is as overwhelmed by the diversity of what’s on offer as everyone else. As the former French Vogue editor Joan Juliet Buck wrote in her memoir The Price of Illusion (2017), many have “a profusion of outfits so dense… they flash[ed] by like landscape in a train window.” So keeping things comparatively straightforward helps.
What does this equate to? For many a long season now there has, as discussed, been shirting in abundance. (Adam Lippes’ and TWP’s cottons and silks are current favorites, as are God’s True Cashmere’s checks in, yes, cashmere.) There’s also reliably a rodeo’s worth of jeans. (Sarah Burton’s diverse denim offerings at Givenchy are going down especially well), plus minimalist cashmere (from Loro Piana or Lynne) and a really truly great trench or two (Mackintosh or, of course, Burberry). And not forgetting the blazers, blazers and more blazers (Chanel, yes, but also more Bottega Veneta, as well as Celine and Khaite).
The most noticeable jewelry out on maneuvers comes in the form of the extravagant brooches, most often from (one more time) Chanel, or vintage (either bought or – better still – inherited). Yet there are even more quietly spectacular smaller pieces. Cece’s hand-painted enamel signet rings are among the most coveted examples, as are Dyne’s sculptural earrings and bangles striped with diamonds or emeralds. Such jewelry represents another kind of semaphor, a glittering yet subtle codification from one woman to another that they are part of the same tribe, that glorious traveling circus that still has three more cities to go…
