PARIS–By the time another season of fashion shows has ended, one has to marvel not only at what was on the runway but also at the curiosities spotted in the audience. It would be reasonable to assume that in places where the fashion industry congregates, the style acumen would be both invigorating and intimidating. And there certainly are examples of extraordinary stylishness, the sort of personal presentation that leaves one in awe of creativity and pure chutzpah.
But industry insiders are as prone to being swept away by a trend or a hot designer brand as your next-door neighbor. Yet they believe their credentials within the industry leave them beyond reproach. What they wear must be fabulous simply because they say it is so. The stylist Patricia Field, who dresses the women of “Sex and the City,” has an eye for blending high fashion with street style on the successful television show. But her own mode of dress is more chaotic, an alarming mix of club-land, logos, drag queen, high end, street urchin and gnome.
Others have adopted a signature look that, while distinctive, is neither flattering nor easy. One retailer, for instance, dresses all in black and keeps her long hair piled about a foot high atop her head. She then uses a black scarf like a tarp to keep her locks braced against the wind.
Amusing scenes unfold when special guests arrive at fashion shows. If they are famous and likely to be photographed, then they usually will have been tastefully outfitted by the designer. If they are simply loyal clients or overwrought fans, then they have decked themselves in the designer’s label as a matter of courtesy, respect or fawning adoration. The results are sometimes distressing. The ladies at Christian Dior last week eagerly ripped the tags from their fall 2002 purchases to celebrate the label’s spring 2003 fashion show. But the weather, unfortunately, was not cooperating. Ponyskin, fur boots and fur throws were not required, particularly inside the venue, where yellow neon lights were placed under the seats to create a dance club effect. The lighting was successful, but it also raised the temperature in the room to a steamy simmer. Derrieres may have been roasting, but the devoted Dior customers did not remove a single layer of expensive poofery.
Fashion insiders spend a lot of time talking about how the runway should not be taken literally; it is a hyper-reality meant to suggest a point of view. The most amusing example of misguided literalism occurred several seasons ago when the designer Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garcons created a collection of cocoon-like clothes stitched up with small pillows in odd places. A dress, for instance, might have a fluffy lump on the shoulder creating the effect of a goiter gone berserk. The collection was a smart commentary on the definition of beauty. But in practice, no one should ever walk about town with a lump jutting out from the torso. At least not if medical science can prevent it.
That sort of thing turns up all the time at fashion presentations, disturbing examples of bad taste masquerading as an attitude that is edgy or cool or avant-garde. Sometimes it seems that the experts have swallowed the designer hype whole.
Before anyone thinks that it’s simply women who are duped into becoming victims of the latest trends–or, more accurately, the latest bad ideas–men have their unfortunate moments, too. A woman has to stretch a long way before she pushes past the boundaries of interesting clothes into the absurd. For men, the boundaries are more narrowly drawn. So the sight of a gentleman swanning about dressed like an electric cowboy not only gives one pause but also provides a jolt to the entire system. For example, Jim Goldstein, a Californian whose style has been documented in French Vogue, is a fashion aficionado who likes his furs colorful, his reptile skins multipatterned and his leather tight.
Most people whose professions bring them into the center ring of fashion don attire that is stylish and current but not at all batty. True, they have an affinity for black, but mostly because it is versatile, slimming and travels well. Assembling a “get-up” is too time-consuming for most. The veteran Italian fashion editor Anna Piaggi, for instance, goes to the trouble of dyeing her hair to match the day’s hat, all of which tends to look like a miniature by French sculptor Niki de Saint Phalle. Who can bother with such details?
But it is the folks who cotton to red broadtail in 70-degree weather, matching python boots and pants, Chanel bandannas over white leggings and hair dyed blue to coordinate with an evening gown who keep the fashion industry from feeling like just another corporate grind.
