
Photography by Sarah Nicole Prickett
I forgot Marc Jacobs was making timeliness happen: apparently, his last two NY shows have begun promptly, and today I nearly missed his Louis Vuitton spectacular because I decided to walk over from Colette Dinnigan. Funny thing: when you ask someone at Paris Fashion Week how long it takes to get somewhere, they give you two times: “weeth heels” and “without.”
I should’ve gone without. But I did skitter in right as the show began, and how lucky I did! Because this show was fun–girlish, giddy fun–which is something I’d no idea I was missing, til 2:30 p.m. (sharp) today. There’s lots of drama in Paris (did you watch McQueen live? I’m still amazed), and there’s beige restraint, and there’s beauty, of course–but not a lot of fun. And what else could you call this bonbon assortment of plaid and prints, pinafores and pockets, and–wholly amazing–poodle hair? The girls looked like Marie Antoinettes on acid. Tassels swung wildly from messenger bags and trussed up shoes–sometimes they were white fur, like funny moustaches. Read more »