New Guard, New Tricks
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
Three or four seasons ago, a slew of new names popped up in post-fashion week conversations. Whenever a buyer or editor talked about a favorite show, he or she mentioned Proenza Schouler, Derek Lam, Zac Posen, and Behnaz Sarafpour rather than Calvin, Donna, Marc, and Ralph. In a transient business like fashion, designers’ popularity rotates regularly, and a young talent can go from It Boy or It Girl to has-been within a season or two. (Todd Oldham, anyone?) What is fascinating about this new lineup of young turks, however, is that their impact has gone beyond press attention and retail accounts at Barneys. This past week it became evident that they – along with a host of other up-and-coming designers – are actually changing the image of American fashion.
Until now, American brands have built their success on an uncanny instinct for who their customer is and what they need. That means creating well-made, coherent, and user-friendly collections that are always in sync with current trends. But as the pace of trends moves faster and faster, and the mixing of styles has taken over from the concept of a total look, fashion has become a bit of a blur.
All hemline lengths are right. All colors acceptable. And wearing a $2,000 top with a skirt from H &M is de rigeur. All this has created a need for a new kind of dressmaking. The aforementioned four designers, along with rising stars like Thakoon, Sari Gueron, Richard Chai, Project Alabama, Doo Ri, Costello Tagliapietra, and Mary Ping are doing just that. They are creating a new visual language by working with shape and material like paint on a blank canvas. The inspiration for a collection usually has very little to do with trends. It seems to be an internal process that is more about exploring the cut of a sleeve or the texture of a fabric than leafing through old issues of Vogue. Instead of piecing together different visual influences, these creators are looking at clothes as complete design objects that communicate a novel idea to the consumer.
This approach has even had an impact on some of the veteran designers. Note the slightly skewed proportions and asymmetrical cuts Marc Jacobs sent out, or the undone construction techniques that Calvin Klein’s new designer Francisco Costa employs. Catherine Malandrino, who usually specializes in girly and flirty dresses, surprised everyone by showing super-crafty patchwork clothes that were all about texture and hand-sewn details. Donna Karan has really let loose lately by playing with abstract silhouettes and arty prints. Vera Wang has gone from swishy wedding gowns to restrained urban sportswear with a deconstructed edge.
It would make sense that the uncertainty and underlying sense of chaos that pervades our world today is mirrored in our choice of clothing. In the brash and ebullient late ’90s, consumers craved hard-edged glamour and brassy logos. Today, it seems that fashion followers are looking for simplicity, but also depth and meaning. There’s a sense of comfort in a highly crafted garment made by loving hands. Perhaps designers and consumers share a mutual longing for things that are beautiful and make sense. Fashion is not about escape anymore; it’s about getting back to the basics.