As I wrote Friday’s post on New York Fashion Week, I had planned on including the Marc Jacobs show under the “head on” section. I had gone through the runway photos and thought about the boxy silhouettes and dark lighting and initially was feeling ambivalent about it. The clothes looked like walking walls in some cases, without dimension, like the designs were just trying to get by.
Then I read review after review about how haunting the show was; the review from Women’s Wear Daily in particular made me want to take a second look. Talk of how “haunting” the runway felt, of reflections of the models on the catwalk floor looking like inverted ghosts, and a live string orchestra set apart from the stage, and on and on and on made me wonder if I had missed something.
So since I was definitely not watching from the front row, I pulled up the next best thing. YouTube. Because I’m a big-time blogger now, and all (haha).
Watching the show in motion, with the music, was a game-changer. I’ve embedded it below, and you can watch all 12 minutes of it should you choose. It is mesmerizing. Also, Christie Turlington Burns closes out the show, her first time on the runway since the nineties – pretty cool.
The Deal with Understanding Collections
So here’s the deal with runway collections (or any collection, really): they have to be examined as a whole, with each piece contributing to a different facet of the identity that the show is constructing. That’s really what the designer’s job is – to construct an identity that people can relate to. Clothes are so psychological, and at the end of the day, it is our view of ourselves in the world that determines what we’re drawn to. It also determines how we interpret style – I think in many ways, fashion is a 3D Rorschach (risky business, then, writing a fashion review for public viewing, don’t you think?).
Setting
The show was set at the Park Avenue Armory, a historic performing arts space with a gigantic warehouse. The runway, constructed with reflective flooring, ran down the center of the warehouse. Since there was a small (180-person) crowd seated by the catwalk, essentially in the dark, there was that feeling of being-alone-together that we often experience in places like church or haunted houses. The only lights were on the runway and on the American Contemporary Music Ensemble, seated with their instruments off to the side. They played the song Aheym by Bryce Dessner, meaning homeward in Yiddish, lasting the length of the show.
Normally, one model will enter the catwalk once the other is turning around at the end. Here, Jacobs had each model completely alone on stage, with the exception of her reflection on the floor. And as she’s walking, she can only see her reflection, knowing that the audience is there, but only able to see herself.
So imagine: you’re in this vast, industrial space with 179 other people, in the dark, with this elegant-yet-haunting string quartet lit in the corner. The setting would almost force your attention onto each model, and, I might add, the clothes are swallowing up each model (we’ll get to proportions in a minute), so really all you’re looking at are the clothes. And only one at a time – he’s making you soak it all in. He’s isolating each person in the crowd, but at the same time inviting them to this shared experience. This collection is all about the push-pull of self versus everything else.
The Coats
It’s always interesting to compare the beginning and end of each show. Generally, looks are organized into day and evening, with the more extravagant evening looks at the very end. This show was no exception. But what’s interesting about how the clothes evolved through the show, as if with each look they were learning how to breathe a bit more freely.
We start with big, boxy wool coats in lots of solids or no-nonsense plaids that conceal almost everything underneath. I wonder how much of the collection we never actually saw, even though it was on the runway! The proportions of these things are gigantic – there’s a lot of fabric in a very simple shape that resembles a shield. It’s a cold way to present to the world, by walking through it wearing a wall of fabric.
But then, there are these kicks of personality that poke out from underneath in the forms of skirts or dresses or whatever the hell is under there. There’s color, there’s zingy floral patterns, there’s light. You get the sense that there’s a lot happening under the surface. And isn’t that the truth for everyone? We all have that front. And for me, from a female perspective, it’s a front used when I know that it’s not safe to let the person close, but there are repercussions for if I push them away. This is especially true in a workplace environment when you’re dealing with potentially predatory bosses and/or coworkers.(hello, being a woman in the workforce!).
That’s what these first looks are doing – they’re saying, “I’m here, guarded, and oh by the way, I have a sparkling personality that I am not going to trust you with yet.” Those big coats simbolize protecting our inner world. They’re the coping mechanisms that are so functional for getting through life (um, can I say boundaries?) but that hide a lot, too.
Feathers
As the show went on, the clothes became more exuberant, although still slightly guarded. Wool evolved to feathers, which may be the only protective layer on earth that also allows for flight. There’s freedom in the feathered gowns, and there were a handful of them, but there’s also a practical sort of weatherproofing about them. These women aren’t wrapped in flimsy maribou, after all. There’s such a dark whimsy about these last dresses, as if the person wearing them has decided that, hey, life is rough, but I’ve got me, and I’m a hoot. See what I did there?
LRRH
There is an element of Little Red Riding Hood to all this. Just looking at the runway photos, the Amanda Seyfried cover of Sam the Shams & the Pharaohs’s Lil’ Red Riding Hood blasted through my head. Listen to her version – I linked it above – it’s so culturally relevant right now, it’s a bit creepy. And hearing her sing it is more apropos than a bunch of dudes, just saying.
The models are in these cloak-like coats, moving through the dark with the strings in the background, each alone out there with the exception of a very hidden audience whose reception will ultimately decide the fate of the collection. It’s all very “I’m alone in the woods, doing my thing, until I realize that I am most definitely not alone, and now I have no idea who I can trust.”
Homeward
In the finale, there’s a sense of pushing through that guarded feeling – especially with Christie Turlington Burns, who last modeled on the runway twenty years ago, in the final gown. She’s completely bare-faced, in that black feathered gown, back home on the runway (remember, the score is titled “Homeward?” Brilliant). Jacobs’s choice in casting her reveals a respect for experience gained through living. He could have chosen one of the 16 year-olds to close, but no. He chose someone who’s been there before, learned the ropes, knows the nuances of life – and that’s a powerful decision. He’s not yielding to the withering flower trope of femininity today, not at all – he’s showing the humanity of women in all our facets in a shame-free zone. There’s something corrective, healing, about that decision, like we needed that. And I think we did.
In the spirit of Vanessa Friedman, what does this show say about women today? OK, so this is essentially a Rorschach test, so to each their own interpretation. But for me, it represented so much of how I feel as a female moving through life, especially back when I worked “real” jobs and was in direct contact with more people.
This was one of those show that the more I looked at, the more I saw. It really hit home for me that fashion is psychological, it’s political, and above everything else, it’s art.
What did you see in this show?
love
Stig.
Info via Vogue, Women’s Wear Daily, and The Cut. Commentary is allllll mine.
