Report from my first NY Fashion Week show post-tragedy.
Last night was the Marc Jacobs show, which had a special symbolism for many - his huge show and afterparty on the pier on September 10 (always has the Monday 9 PM slot at Fashion Week) was this huge blowout that ended only hours before IT happened, and I do know several people who did not make it to work at WTC that Tuesday because they had been bingeing or otherwise carousing at that party.
But anyway, on to the show last night, which was at The Armory, which most of us had seen in quite another incarnation during September. It was mobbed of course, but two huge signs hung at the entrance "Photo Identification Is Required For Admission." This was new, and even though scrutiny of our invites revealed a tiny warning to that effect at the bottom, we were already there, quite ID-less as usual AND sporting the following-
I was wearing a large-hole fishnet face veil cut like a chic hockey mask with my equestrian-ish fetishy suit jacket and long tiered skirt.
Johnny, having injured his foot last weekend, had pulled one of my walking sticks on the way out the door. It was one of the concealed-sword variety - I hadn't been watching.
I was still skeptical of how the ID thing was going to translate amongst all the bimbo boys and drama queens of The Fashion Pack, so we decided to give it a shot. We just had to show invites to get up the steps, and then were told "go to the left and show your ID please". Our hearts sank. Then at that moment one of Marc's show production people came forward "Chi Chi, Johnny, THIS WAY" shepherding us towards the right. That door only required search of my miniscule handbag and showing again of invites. We were in - and my hunch had been correct. The terrorists had not managed to destroy a great NY tradition - the overlooking of rules for the overdressed!
The show started an hour late, during which several people in the F( =Friends) section commented that the incredibly packed room had a very low-key energy. No wonder, with the room itself having so recently witnessed so much sadness - rooms hold on to these things long after. There was much talk of the last show, and the extraordinary day that followed. Veteran photog Patrick McMullan told me that after Marc's show last time he had thought to himself "I wish something would happen to stop Fashion Week. I just can't face it this season" and then had been wracked by guilt for weeks, as if he had caused it.
The show began with the unmistakeable opening bars of "Teen Spirit" which had been an incredible motif for Marc years back with the "grunge" collection. But there was nothing period about this show, or certainly not THAT period. I could describe it best as the taking of miltary jackets (from Edwardian to French Revolution) rather distressed and combined with layers from Les Miz gauze to dull pewter sequins. I haven't loved a show of Marc's this much in many years. In fact we liked it SO much that we became afraid for Marc - though he has done some great collections in the last decade the last thing we had been really mad about in the same way was the collection that got him fired from Perry Ellis.
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