Marc Jacobs has nothing to prove and nearly nothing to lose. He simply loves fashion. Our new fashion critic Jessica Iredale is feeling it.
For the first time in 15 years I went to only two shows during New York Fashion Week: Gabriela Hearst and Marc Jacobs, two of the brands and designers that are doing the most to keep NYFW alive when it is in a deep state of malaise, mirroring all the changes going on in fashion and beyond. It’s not fair to put it all on them but they are delivering.
Gabi’s mission is genuine. She is sincere about sustainability and changing the way luxury fashion exists in the world. She puts her money where her mouth is and you could feel it at her show, the set stocked with recycled paper scraps, the collection filled with clothes you can keep forever and emotional buys you won’t regret.
Gabriela Hearst’s models walked on a runway set that was built out of recycle paper scraps.
Marc Jacobs was life affirming. Uplifting. Fabulous. Raw. A performance. An experience at the highest level of theatre, art and fashion. If I wanted a single reason to consider requesting a seat at more fashion shows next season, Marc gave it to me. Titled “Chaos + Form”, the show referenced his “own life and career thus far. It is the fading picture of a disappearing New York that prevails—now foreign and exotic in its extinction, forever mythic and chic with its beauty promise, sparkle and grit,” said the show notes.
The Marc Jacobs show was accompanied by a dance choreography.
Presented as a wild combination of dance, choreographed by Karole Armitage, and fashion show, it was too much to take in the best possible way. It expanded your mind. The dancers’ gestures were violent, graceful, and powerfully expressive of undiluted emotional states that felt summoned from the depths of the human psyche. It’s impossible to put into words. The models, including Miley Cyrus, walked through the chaos, everyone clad in Jacobs’ signatures through the decades and more, i.e. sequined shift dresses, crewnecks and cigarette pants, matching pastel jackets and tights, the occasional East Village Chick coat and hat, and his beloved A line. There was glamour, minimalism, maximalism, nostalgia, comfort, and casualness. Day time. Nighttime. Stuff for reality. Stuff that exist only in most people’s dreams. Being there to see it live was like winning a golden ticket. There is no substitute, but I can’t stop looking at it on Instagram and online again and again. I’ve seen something new every time.
The collection was a journey through signature looks of past decades.
