NEW YORK — Ralph Lauren built a career by brazenly positioning himself as the quintessential interpreter of the American zeitgeist, using our mythology — our secular religion — for profit. In doing so, he has displayed a keen understanding of our cultural symbols.
He can parse the difference between blue jeans worn with cowboy boots and those worn with a black leather jacket. He sees the romance in a prairie skirt or a well-worn American Indian blanket. He knows what it means in our racially conflicted society to photograph a dark- skinned, athletic black man in his preppiest, old-money brand.
And he knows how a bright-eyed blond feeds our vision of Mayflower blue bloods. As consumers, we have bought into those symbols and made Lauren an extremely wealthy man.
So it seems fair to say there were layers of meaning and references in the looks that came down his runway on the final day of the recent spring 2010 fashion shows here. The designer wrote in his show notes that “hard times seem to sharpen our capacity for idealism and our optimism that tomorrow will be a better day.” Yet it was difficult to see much that was optimistic about the distressed overalls that were on his runway. Or the faded and torn jeans. Or the sequined nightshirt, the silk gown cut to look like overalls, the sequined and shredded jeans, and the floral print dresses that harked back to Laura Ingalls Wilder and exuded history but not luxury.
The country might still be in hard economic times, but are there really folks who want to look like subjects of a James Agee and Walker Evans collaboration? “Let Us Now Praise Famous Men” should not serve as a style guide.
It’s not surprising that Lauren would look to laborers at a time when the notion of “honest work” — as opposed to the paper-pushing kind — has become part of the cultural dialogue. But what was strutted onto his runway registered as both dismissive and diminishing of those challenging lives.
Seeing a model sashaying in distressed overalls and glittering evening sandals was akin to watching some indulged young party girl go slumming. The beautiful pieces in this collection were lost amid the uncomfortable feeling that those who inspired the collection ultimately were not celebrated but were unintentionally taunted.
These have not been the best times for runway fashion. Oscar de la Renta’s collection managed to be at once trashy and stodgy. Bodices were uncomfortably transparent. Embroidered coats lacked movement and grace. The models’ hair was coiled around their heads in a single, wide braid — a style to be avoided unless your name is Yulia Tymoshenko and you happen to be the prime minister of Ukraine.
Marc Jacobs’ collection had its moments of intrigue. He focused on a series of dresses stiff with ruffles and edged in pearls. And one can imagine his extreme silhouettes influencing designers in the future. But there was a harshness to his collection that served mostly to tamp down the beauty rather than inject it with a sense of swaggering cool.
Narciso Rodriguez and Donna Karan both had reassuring collections that spoke with clarity and exuberance. Rodriguez made a case for an architectural silhouette that plays peekaboo along the torso and often floats freely through the hips. And Karan let women know that there will be sensual suits in stone-colored neutral come spring, even if she is practically the only designer willing to make them. Michael Kors’ collection was a simple, straightforward — and beautiful — one filled with sophisticated sheaths, some with single sleeves, some with decorative zippers, others with skin-revealing slits. The pieces were not destined to thrill, but they were wise investments.
Young guns were more playful
Younger designers were in a more decorative, more playful mood.
Doo-Ri Chung’s embroidered tulle tops and dresses in a cacophony of pleats and sequins made a compelling case for the philosophy that a pretty dress can bring a woman joy. Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez of Proenza Schouler created sci-fi tailoring that blended strong shades of blue and green with metallic fringe and feathery eyelash adornment. The L.A.- based label Koi Suwannagate showed a small presentation of handcrafted dresses of Thai fabrics festooned with hand-painted flowers, custom embroidery and hand-sculpted lotus blossoms. All three labels offered a unique sensibility that stood out in a season that seemed to be struggling to distinguish itself.
Francisco Costa played with volume and geometry in his artful collection for Calvin Klein. And L’Wren Scott celebrated the female form with a collection of sexy, oh-so-very-fitted sheaths.
With the industry in such turmoil thanks to the economy, it would be welcome news to say that this was a season filled with clothes that will be hard to resist. But that’s not the case. It’s a season that overflows with joyful clothes: pretty colors, flouncy skirts, flirtatious details. (Anna Sui’s collection was practically a homage to happy.) And the designer Phillip Lim offered a collection that was a succinct distillation of a host of trends initiated by labels such as Lanvin, Prada and Rodarte. Lim’s wasn’t a collection of knock- offs but a profoundly safe reworking of ideas already on the racks. Perhaps Lim will be proved right with his well-priced collection. It may be that it’s not the fashion industry’s ideas that are sketchy, just the pricing system. Would you buy a pair of trousers with a low-slung crotch if they were a couple hundred dollars instead of $800? But there was no blockbuster collection from Seventh Avenue this season. It’s hard to make lightning strike on command, after all.
There was no designer leading the industry in a new direction. There was no dress or jacket or skirt of the moment. What, pray tell, will magazines put on their must-have lists? Spring 2010 is a season of earnest effort and vigorous hand-wringing. Designers gave customers something to think about, such as the propriety of stealing inspiration from the poor to dress the wealthy. But by the time the last man and woman took their bows, the memory of the clothes had already begun to fade.
