At the Marc by Marc Jacobs
show today, there were girls whose lank tresses were snared at the throat by knotted scarves. The boys' scarves, on the other hand, trailed neatly ironed from their back pockets. They wore guitar picks around their necks; the girls had signet rings. There was a huge emphasis on shine: Lurex, satin, sequined stars, and metallic trainers worn with everything. And there was an attractive used quality to it all: a washed satin top and shorts, a suit with the languor of pajamas, a coat in crinkly metallic leather, a silver leather bomber jacket. As usual, the styling of Jacobs and his team evinced a peerless instinct for look-at-me-I'm-different teen appeal, while at the same time acknowledging that the tribal need to belong means genuine individuality is a fashion fiction. Boys and girls sported the same suits, the same shoes. Points of difference—like the long sequined tank dress worn by Julia Nobis or the MJ letterman jacket—only confirmed the psychological acuity of the offering. You could almost wish that it was the early eighties, that New Wave was still cresting, and that Martha Coolidge was looking for clothes for her first movie.