297 posts tagged "Marc Jacobs"
Fashion Week notes from the Guardian journalist and author of The Meaning of Sunglasses.
Julia Roberts once called Aishwarya Rai Bachchan “the most beautiful woman in the world.” Yes, Ash (as the Bollywood-fluent world calls her) is that eyeball-spinningly gorgeous. Plus, her star power is like Julia, Angelina, Reese, Renée, and Halle all rolled into one subcontinental supernova. But let’s talk about Ash’s fashion. While her black chiffon Alberta Ferretti gown (worn to last night’s Pink Panther premiere) is inarguably flattering and pretty, it’s so safe that Ralph Nader himself would slap a stamp of approval on it. Here’s our case: When a star is that bewitchingly lovely and that A-list-y, is it wrong of us to want her to bring it a little when it comes to style? Maybe a little Balenciaga, Marc Jacobs, or Yves Saint Laurent? What do you think, Style Filers? Does Ash’s black Ferretti do her justice? Or would you, like us, want to see her in something unexpected and daring?
“Marc Slashes Invitees.” I got the (slightly violent-sounding) WWD News Alert on my BlackBerry Friday night. But it wasn’t until this morning that I allowed myself to fully examine what the new fashion week development really meant. The specifics: The invite list will be smaller by a whopping 50 percent-plus, going from 2,000 people (1,100 seated and 900 standing) to 700 (500 seated and 200 standing). Celebrities? Maybe one or two, said president Robert Duffy. One or two?! I can only assume that Marc-ettes like Winona Ryder, Sofia Coppola, Zoe Cassavetes, Rachel Feinstein Currin, and Victoria Beckham will make the cut as friends of the house. But I suppose you can forget about seeing every downtown fixture both erstwhile and current. (Lady Bunny, we think you had better make alternate plans for Monday night.) Now, I’m the last person to make the case for New York fashion week being a B-lister-and-hanger-on-packed three-ring circus. In fact, I firmly believe that getting trampled on a daily basis by wild packs of photographers trying to get shots of Sophia Bush has started to chip away at my soul. However, Marc Jacobs’ show is, or was, different. It was a huge, fun family reunion, a metaphorical big tent where New York’s fashion crowd—publicists from other houses, designers of every ilk, stylists, and even editors’ family members—gathered to celebrate New York’s biggest talent and the city’s fashion itself. So while I understand that our current economic climate means that Jacobs and Duffy just can’t host that party anymore, I can’t help feeling like it’s one of those moments When Everything Changed. What about you? Worried you won’t make the cut?