We've moved on to Milan. Which means we're nearing the end of fashion week(s), which means I'll start posting goods we might purchase in the here and now (as opposed to a year from now) with real money (as opposed to the imaginary money we've used for purchasing every bit of clothing I've posted since the start of NY Fashion Week a fortnight ago).
London let us down. Milan will not. Or at least it looks that way thus far:
Fendi. Karl Lagerfeld may be a kook (in my mind, he will speak, forever and always, with the voice the Fug Girls gifted him (brunch is nature's mid-morning ointment. SLATHER.)), but Man can design.
Whatever it was Marc Jacobs was trying to do (resulting in slightly overextended, slightly campy, full-on punchy 70s), Karl did better. Whatever it was Ralph Lauren was attempting (big-buckley, wild-westerny, country mashers (potatoes!) dipped in suedes and wheats and fringe (fringe!)), Karl achieved with a dash of country meets coutryside meets a gentle summer breeze meets a young lady with good taste. It's got a 70s spin to it, but it's also fresh and fun, not to be confused with fun-ny, which MJ verged on.
And it feels living. It's what I want to throw on tomorrow to feel easy, effortless, like I'm getting away with something (that something being clothing as comfortable as pajamas, tailored into impeccable day-to-evening wear). I enjoy it so much. The colors reminded me a bit of what we saw in London (and the marginally more tempered Gucci show the other day), without the chaos. It's a bit of Easter, without the happy gimmickry that defines Easter in New York (oh, those crazy hats - good only for spring holidays and the racetracks). I'm not saying I loved everything (ambivalent to: the off the shoulder flamenco puff-blouses topping a few dresses and the real-world 3-D sunglasses (barely more real-world than the ones distributed at Avatar)), but he rarely struck a sour chord and, starting at look 20, put on a damn near perfect show. It's just so nice. And with all the cockamamie BS that's floating around out there, it's nice to see nice. Like, okay, this is nothing to scream about, but after appreciating most everything that came before in the collection, I couldn't help but feel a little breathless.
It's won't send shock waves across the fashion world. And, yet. I WANT. Cathy Horyn, the head fashion columnist at the New York Times, wrote recently about collections that resonate, that recall a moment in time, not because they're literal, but because they're personal. They recall a moment in your time, your history. This is the look I want my future self flashing back to twenty years from now, my look circa today. What I mean is, I WANT NOW.