It is fashion week in New York, and I am again reminded of
Moliere's brilliant satire "Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme."
The main character, an aspiring gentleman, Jourdain, is easily
duped by his tailor into wearing outlandish garments after being
told that they are the current fashions at court.
After seeing what the Paris and New York runways have churned out
so far this year, one has to wonder if that mischievous tailor is
still around. How else can one explain the ludicrous costumes
that are passing for haute couture in 2005?
One designer's entire collection at the Bryant Park event looked
like something a homeless woman, who piles all her clothes on at
once, would wear. Who buys these clothes anyway? Of course there
are the old reliables who manage to create designs that can
actually be worn in public, but even these journeyman designers'
collections contain a few clunkers that defy explanation.
Every year, more and more, styles are concocted by misogynistic
designers - of all three sexes, male, female, and neuter - that
only anorexic, prepubescent females have the bodies to wear.
Pierre Cardin, who is selling his haute-couture business,
apparently agrees. In an interview with the Delhi Telegraph in
January, the 82-year-old designer said: "You no longer have
the construction of a real silhouette. Before you had Balenciaga,
Chanel, Courreges, Cardin. Of these names, yes Dior still exists,
but it's spectacle. It's superb, but it's a spectacle.
"You can't walk in shoes like that or hats like that - to go
where?" he said. "You go to dinner and you need three
chairs to sit down. It's very beautiful, but it's not fashion -
it's something else. It's costume."
Actually, Monsieur Cardin, it's not even beautiful any longer,
and some of these designs look downright painful to wear.
Nearly three years ago I went to the Bryant Park tent show and
was impressed by the designer Carmen Marc Valvo. I found his
collection to be flattering to women and of extremely high
quality. With some trepidation, I ventured to Bryant Park again
this past Wednesday to see if success had spoiled him. His
celebrity clientele has increased considerably since 2002.
Waiting on line is never a good way to start off an event, and
the members of the security staff all wore selfimportant
power-trip expressions, which might impress those under 25 but
seriously irritated this old lady. My urge to leave grew with
every passing minute I had to stand and then wait after
periodically inching up just a tad.
Finally, they allowed the crowd in and I was pleased to find I
had good seats in the third row. Unfortunately, I
was two seats behind the actress Vanessa Williams. The
former-half-hour Miss America was seated next to Met soprano
Renee Fleming. The pony-tailed paparazzi flashed their cameras
incessantly while interviewing the two performing artists.
What I found absolutely preposterous was that these same photo
hounds spent just as much time on Lizzie Grubman, the PR
personality whose biggest claim to fame is that she managed to
back her SUV into a crowd of people in the Hamptons in 2001. Ah,
fame!
More lights flashing!
Another celebrity, Vivica Fox, of "Kill Bill: Vol. 1"
fame, has entered the building!
There was a time in my life when all this hoopla and glitzy
glamour would have been entertaining and exciting, but then I
grew up. It seemed as if the same sorts of characters who had
sought the spotlight in my youth were in the show tent on
Wednesday. One androgynous individual wore a beautiful Farrah
Fawcett wig, while others wore Carnaby Street duds and struck
vapid poses. Deja vu.Then the lights dimmed and the music
started.
Amazingly, it was a Strauss waltz, which alternated with a
staccato drumbeat and a rendition of "Windmills of Your
Mind."
I am pleased to report that Carmen Marc Valvo has continued to
create beautiful designs. My favorite was a black velvet ribbon
strapless gown. He is also apparently not afraid of PETA. His
models wore fox stoles, mink capelets, sable jackets - and they
looked fabulous!
Pierre Cardin has said haute couture is vanishing, but that does
not have to be. What we need are strong women who will finally
say to these designers, "We are not clowns, we are not
sluts. We are women with breasts, and we want clothes that cover
our midriffs. We refuse to be fools any longer. We are not
Jourdain."
Then, finally, we need a few honest tailors.