For better or worse, Marc Jacobs bestrides New York's fashion week like a colossus. This week, it's been worse—at least in one sense. With scant warning, he moved his signature show from its traditional Monday-night slot to Thursday, screwing with the best-laid plans of a small army of fashion professionals who need to be—or at least need to be en route to—somewhere else at that particular moment. Then he decided to fill that Monday-night gap by moving up his Marc by Marc presentation from Tuesday afternoon. It felt like an obvious effort to sate the sense of occasion that has become irremediably attached to his Monday moment, and in that, at least, Jacobs wasn't wrong. The anticipation was certainly in full effect. The packed house positively simmered with it. It was the perfectly receptive hothouse for a Jacobs tour de force.

But that has never been what MxM is about. It's always been Marc's vehicle for a kind of low-key collegiate funk, and on that level, it's usually been a sterling success. Tonight felt different, a bit more wattage in the hair and makeup, a bit more sex in the clothes. Hey, it's in the air. So if Marc's girls felt like Antonio's girls (as in the late, great Lopez), that was timely. And if the prints, proportions, and satiny sheen echoed Roxy Music fans refracting the forties through a seventies glam lens, that too felt just about right. The boys were, as usual, the ever-hopeful wing-pieces of the MxM woman.