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Laura Antonia Jordan is feeling the joy in the Big Apple…
NOWADAYS, YOU don’t actually have to be at a fashion show to see it unfurl in real time. Such is the fashion pack’s appetite for documenting every collection on their phones, by the time the designer takes their bow, Instagram is already flooded with hundreds of the same catwalk shots.
But at the most talked-about show at New York Fashion Week – Rihanna’s latest Savage x Fenty extravaganza – there wasn’t a single amateur shot to be found, as guests’ phones were locked in foam pouches on arrival. The reason for the social media blackout is that the event will premiere on Amazon Prime on 20 September. Since that announcement was made, the message has been clear: you are all invited. The show affirmed that proposition. A high-octane spectacle, opening with a spotlit Rihanna with a troop of dancers, all of them decked out in Savage x Fenty lingerie. Alongside supermodels including Gigi and Bella Hadid, Joan Smalls and Cara Delevingne
(two fingers to Victoria’s Secret perhaps? The Brit model was allegedly told she was ‘too bloated’ for that lingerie catwalk in 2016) there were dancers and models of all body shapes and sizes, abilities, genders and ethnicities, all of them gyrating, thrusting and generally slaying. It was a powerful message – the type her younger fans deserve.
Rihanna wasn’t the only A-lister to take to the catwalk. Zendaya joined forces with Tommy Hilfiger for her second collaboration with the all-american designer. This season the duo took over Harlem’s Apollo Theater, a venue with an illustrious African American history. Building on last season’s celebration of black womanhood, this time clothes took their cue from the late ’70s – and the wide-legged pants, pussy-bow blouses, wide-brimmed hats. The audience lapped up every one of the cast’s springy steps.
From there the fashion crowd decamped to Brooklyn, for the much-hyped Pyer Moss show, suspecting that the one-hour drive would be worth it. They weren’t disappointed. The third part of designer Kerby Jeanraymond’s ‘American, Also’ trilogy, detailing the erasure of African American voices in popular culture, the collection paid homage to Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Considered to be the godmother of rock’n’roll, her legacy has been diminished in the history books. The clothes themselves – natty bolero jackets, fluid dresses, highwaisted trousers – tore up the tired cliché of the rocker as a skinny white man. Presented in a packed-out theatre and soundtracked by a 65-person gospel choir, the collection was a nuanced, moving and sophisticated exploration of black identity. The atmosphere was electric. Uptown/downtown, behemoth brand/buzzy new(ish) name, Tommy Hilfiger and Pyer Moss are poles apart, but they were singing from the same hymn sheet – albeit at different tempos and volumes. Indeed, across the spectrum of New York brands there was a sense that if you have a voice, it is your right, nay your duty, to use it.
Take Gabriela Hearst. The designer has made her name with her discreet breed of luxury, gobbled up by socially conscious and meticulously stylish women who aren’t swayed by gimmicks. Last week, she became the first designer to put on a carbon-netural show. ‘It’s about getting the courage to do the right thing,’ she said backstage.
At Kate Spade, Brit designer Nicola Glass ued a diverse cast to showcase her crafty collection, which had just the right amount of granola good vibes to it (side note: there are a slew of exciting female designers in New York – Khaite’s Catherine Holstein, Batsheva Hay, Maryam Nassir Zadeh, Marina Moscone and, of course, The Row’s Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen). Elsewhere, celebrating his 10th anniversary, Nepaleseamerican designer Prabal Gurung had his diverse cast walk in beauty-pageant sashes that asked: ‘Who gets to be American?’
However, the question posed elsewhere was: ‘What does it mean to be American?’ When the world’s most powerful country is going through great tumult and deep soul-searching, the big guns reclaimed the most optimistic elements of their national identity. Ralph Lauren, king of the American dream, transformed a disused bank into an Art Deco bar, Ralph’s Club. There
were martinis and white-jacketed waiters; the clothes – streamlined tuxedos, LBDS, and Bella Hadid’s showstopper Jessica Rabbit gown – were vintage Ralph. You half expected to see Jay Gatsby propping up the bar. Michael Kors, meanwhile, took his show to Brooklyn Navy Yard. To a soundtrack provided by a live choir singing American Pie, he showed star-spangled eveningwear, red, white and blue tailoring and ’40s-inspired dresses, a nod to an era of national unity. And then there was Tom Ford. In his first season as chairman of the CFDA, the king of super-charged sexiness went underground – literally. His collection, ‘a return to the kind of luxurious sportswear that America has become known for all over the world’, according to the show notes, was unveiled in a decommissioned subway station. One suspects Mr Ford doesn’t usually get on the subway – you’d be urged not to in a white duchesse satin skirt; you might, however, consider rolling up the sleeves of a relaxed jersey tee. So, Tom Ford fantasy – but with an easy edge – a triumph! Yorkshireman Stuart Vevers is now six years into his tenure at jumbo brand Coach. He had one of his most accomplished outings to date, teaming up with the estate of pop artist Richard Bernstein, best known as the creator of Interview’s iconic covers in the ’80s. He wasn’t the only designer mining this decade for inspiration. Tory Burch took her cue from Princess Diana. ‘It wasn’t about Diana the style icon, it was about her fearlessness,’ said the designer backstage. ‘The ’80s aren’t my natural affiliation, so I wanted to think differently and lightly reference that.’ A softer interpretation of power dressing also emerged, namely at Proenza Schouler and Tibi. Less hardedged than the original, boxy iteration, this time around it enhances rather than depletes the wearer’s femininity. Women are kicking back on their terms.
But if there was one mood that captured the week’s tone, it was joy. Smiling, twirling, two-stepping models ruled. At Tommy Ton’s Deveaux, a diverse cast danced to a marching band. If Deveaux’s clothes are quietly appealing, the show was anything but. ‘The mood was a reaction to everything that’s been happening in the political landscape. I wanted to use this opportunity to celebrate and unify women,’ explained the street-style photographer turned designer.
This celebratory spirit was crystallised in the final show of the week: Marc Jacobs. A dazzling, delicious buffet of looks plucked from the designer’s mental mood board – Lee Radziwill, Anita Pallenberg and Doris Day were all referenced – it was the fashion equivalent of having birthday cake for breakfast just because you feel like it. The show was held on 11 September, 18 years after the world changed forever. A chance to reclaim a narrative, and to trump fear with limitless optimism, it was a stark assertion of the giddy power of fashion and why clothes really do matter. ‘Tonight is a reminder of the joy in dressing up,’ it said in the show notes. ‘Our unadulterated love of fashion and embracing grand gestures of unbridled expressions, reactions, ideas and possibilities.’ The possibility being life after NYFW might look a little brighter in 2020.