Sunday, March 16, 2008
PARIS FASHION WEEK
Chanel's carousel; YSL's tough chic
By Suzy Menkes
PARIS: Fashion may be an eternal merry-go-round but Karl Lagerfeld made a big statement with the carousel in the center of his Chanel runway on Friday. Instead of the usual fairground seats of sculpted horses, this whirligig was fitted with super-sized bags, shoes, pearl chains, camellias and even Coco Chanel's signature hat. And at the end of a show, in which the only bag was a tiny egg-sized clutch for evening , the models clung to the giant accessories as the carousel twirled.
Lagerfeld was spelling out his story-line in black and white - not least because it was the color theme of the show that included hose with a lacy front, the back plain black. They seemed designed to make the eye trace a long line, even when skirts were short. Yet the stand-out pieces were calf-scraping hemlines on tweedy skirts paired with big sweaters or a lighter, lacy blouse.
The message about accessories was clear: No more relying on all those house codes, from gilt chains to quilted bags, to pronounce this a Chanel show. There were some new Gallic berets, but embellishment was mostly built in, as in a stylish quilted tunic top or collars that turned inexplicably inside the tweed jackets.
The overall effect was slightly confused. Was Lagerfeld really consigning accessories to the carousel of history, while hinting that they will come around again soon? Or was he just offering something for everyone, from celebrities like the petite Olsen twins, who would drown in the longer lengths, to Rihanna, who might be the only person to choose a mesh mini dress under a long spider's web of a coat?
By Suzy Menkes
PARIS: Fashion may be an eternal merry-go-round but Karl Lagerfeld made a big statement with the carousel in the center of his Chanel runway on Friday. Instead of the usual fairground seats of sculpted horses, this whirligig was fitted with super-sized bags, shoes, pearl chains, camellias and even Coco Chanel's signature hat. And at the end of a show, in which the only bag was a tiny egg-sized clutch for evening , the models clung to the giant accessories as the carousel twirled.
Lagerfeld was spelling out his story-line in black and white - not least because it was the color theme of the show that included hose with a lacy front, the back plain black. They seemed designed to make the eye trace a long line, even when skirts were short. Yet the stand-out pieces were calf-scraping hemlines on tweedy skirts paired with big sweaters or a lighter, lacy blouse.
The message about accessories was clear: No more relying on all those house codes, from gilt chains to quilted bags, to pronounce this a Chanel show. There were some new Gallic berets, but embellishment was mostly built in, as in a stylish quilted tunic top or collars that turned inexplicably inside the tweed jackets.
The overall effect was slightly confused. Was Lagerfeld really consigning accessories to the carousel of history, while hinting that they will come around again soon? Or was he just offering something for everyone, from celebrities like the petite Olsen twins, who would drown in the longer lengths, to Rihanna, who might be the only person to choose a mesh mini dress under a long spider's web of a coat?
YVES SAINT LAURENT downtown handbag designer purse shoulder bag designer handbag brown.
Whatever. There was a firm new silhouette for loyal suit clients. The jacket was cut sharply with a taut waist over a knee-length skirt. So after several season of youth-at-all costs at Chanel, here was a collection for grown ups, even if they can still enjoy all the fun of the fair.
Yves Saint Laurent had used the same Grand Palais setting the previous night to very different effect. Containing the vast interior space with the billowing white sails of an artistic set, Stefano Pilati marched YSL into the future. The models had android heads covered in black fringed wigs as they strode out on high and hefty shoes.
"Creating a space with tension - and everything that entails," said Pilati elliptically backstage. But his comment was comprehensible in relationship to the clothes, which seemed to be designed like architecture: an over-size felted jacket; wide-cuffed pants rounded as if with the swirl of a compass; a skirt with a flying asymmetric hemline; a dress bracketed with curving shoulders and a shining path of satin down the front.
Pilati has created a look for Saint Laurent: a tough chic that is not for the faint-hearted. The hair alone, with its bowl cut - sometimes with narrow eyeglasses and always with shiny black lips below - suggested the aggressive power that was echoed by cinching belts and coats cut away sharply at the front.
The overall effect was of a designer pushing himself too hard to be "modern" and hiding a romantic, decorative streak that existed in his earlier work. If the Saint Laurent show lacked sensual allure and French frivolity, it did make a purposeful statement.
Since a 1980s revival is quivering in the fashion air, why not take a glancing look at the opposite side of that era? Sophia Kokosalaki did that by re-drawing the fragile, sloping shouldered silhouette of Romeo Gigli. Her cocooning coats brought freshness to a show that was otherwise a rather familiar exercise in the drapes, curvy dresses and translucent inserts. Kokosalaki is playing down her Greek heritage, contrasting filigree with straps wrapped sinuously around the neck.
A landmark moment came at the end of the Sonia Rykiel show, as the flame-haired designer walked the runway not just with her daughter Nathalie, the label's president and creative director, but also with the designer Gabrielle Greiss, who has been working for two years at Rykiel.
The show dissolved into a jumping, leaping dancing party. But the German-born Greiss, who trained at London's Central Saint Martins school, had time to show off her own vision: the famous knits in mohair, with deep dolman sleeves and splodgy patterns; short, bright purple coats; and details like multi-colored buttons running down the side of pants (not to mention Sonia Rykiel's face in studs). The soundtrack glorified Saint-Germain-des-Prés, where Rykiel established a kooky, Bohemian presence 40 years ago and where the house has just refurbished its flagship store.
Suzy Menkes is fashion editor at the International Herald Tribune.
Yves Saint Laurent had used the same Grand Palais setting the previous night to very different effect. Containing the vast interior space with the billowing white sails of an artistic set, Stefano Pilati marched YSL into the future. The models had android heads covered in black fringed wigs as they strode out on high and hefty shoes.
"Creating a space with tension - and everything that entails," said Pilati elliptically backstage. But his comment was comprehensible in relationship to the clothes, which seemed to be designed like architecture: an over-size felted jacket; wide-cuffed pants rounded as if with the swirl of a compass; a skirt with a flying asymmetric hemline; a dress bracketed with curving shoulders and a shining path of satin down the front.
Pilati has created a look for Saint Laurent: a tough chic that is not for the faint-hearted. The hair alone, with its bowl cut - sometimes with narrow eyeglasses and always with shiny black lips below - suggested the aggressive power that was echoed by cinching belts and coats cut away sharply at the front.
The overall effect was of a designer pushing himself too hard to be "modern" and hiding a romantic, decorative streak that existed in his earlier work. If the Saint Laurent show lacked sensual allure and French frivolity, it did make a purposeful statement.
Since a 1980s revival is quivering in the fashion air, why not take a glancing look at the opposite side of that era? Sophia Kokosalaki did that by re-drawing the fragile, sloping shouldered silhouette of Romeo Gigli. Her cocooning coats brought freshness to a show that was otherwise a rather familiar exercise in the drapes, curvy dresses and translucent inserts. Kokosalaki is playing down her Greek heritage, contrasting filigree with straps wrapped sinuously around the neck.
A landmark moment came at the end of the Sonia Rykiel show, as the flame-haired designer walked the runway not just with her daughter Nathalie, the label's president and creative director, but also with the designer Gabrielle Greiss, who has been working for two years at Rykiel.
The show dissolved into a jumping, leaping dancing party. But the German-born Greiss, who trained at London's Central Saint Martins school, had time to show off her own vision: the famous knits in mohair, with deep dolman sleeves and splodgy patterns; short, bright purple coats; and details like multi-colored buttons running down the side of pants (not to mention Sonia Rykiel's face in studs). The soundtrack glorified Saint-Germain-des-Prés, where Rykiel established a kooky, Bohemian presence 40 years ago and where the house has just refurbished its flagship store.
Suzy Menkes is fashion editor at the International Herald Tribune.
Labels: authentic chanel handbags, authentic yves saint laurent bag, chanel ligne bag, paris fashion, ysl downtown
# posted by Give Me Something to Blog About @ 3:36 PM
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
'It' bag dies of overexposure
By Monica Corcoran
Los Angeles Times
Appeal of purse disappears when everyone has one.
Los Angeles Times
Appeal of purse disappears when everyone has one.
The “it” bag, a status purse that costs more than a round-trip ticket to Paris and a favorite among stylish affluent women, is officially dead. “It” always refused to reveal its age but first hit the scene in the early ’90s and was most prominently seen swinging gleefully from toned arms in the last five years.
The “it” bag was often known for its vibrant hides, large-toothed zippers and flamboyant hardware.
Designers like Louis Vuitton, Chloe and Fendi all vied for the prestigious title with seasonal offerings of hobo bags and zaftig satchels – all gifted to celebrities, of course.
The species did not die of natural causes. Fashion authorities suspect that a recent “it” bag – the Yves Saint Laurent Muse – is mostly responsible for wiping out the trend of women coveting one brand of designer bag ad nauseam.
The Muse, a jaunty and haughty take on a bowling bag, was the Palme d’Or among accessory addicts. Like a slain stag slung across the roof of a pickup truck, the
Muse signified that a woman had bagged the right bag.
Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and other starlets reserved the cozy crooks of their arms for the popular purse.
These days, life pales for the Muse. The newest gray-felt version of the YSL handbag was last seen sheepishly lurking on discount retailer Bluefly.com . It was priced at 20 percent off. (Muse’s distant cousins – the Burberry Edna and a patent leather satchel by Fendi – are currently selling at Costco.)
Much like the popular pretty girl who always dies first in a horror film, the “it” bag was a victim of its own ambition.
“A bag is only an ‘it’ bag when it’s not accessible to everyone,” says Christos Garkinos, the co-owner of designer consignment store Decades Two, who admits that he is currently harboring a few secondhand Muses in his shop. “When Banana Republic and Forever 21 came out with a version of the Muse, it was suddenly everywhere.”
Not to mention the coy Muse clones sold by Guess, H&M and almost every counterfeit purse hustler from Canal Street to Santee Alley.
Muse-carrying studio execs and talent agents were horrified to see their assistants rifling through their very own Muses. Beverly Hills, Calif., socialites mistakenly grabbed the wrong white Muse after a few mimosas.
“I ordered one when I was in New York, but then came home and saw everyone carrying it,” says Jessica Wu, a chic Los Angeles dermatologist with an A-list clientele. “I sent it right back without even opening the box.”
The Muse’s noxious ubiquity has spurred the most fashionable women to stray from the retail herd mentality. A purse touted as the next “it” bag holds as much cachet as a VIP Blockbuster membership.
“There’s a backlash because women feel betrayed by the fact that a company calls a bag ‘limited edition’ and then makes 100,000 of them,” says Milton Pedraza, chief executive of the Luxury Institute, a retail research company in New York. “That’s deadly.”
The “it” bag – in all its incarnations – will be fondly remembered.
The “it” bag was often known for its vibrant hides, large-toothed zippers and flamboyant hardware.
Designers like Louis Vuitton, Chloe and Fendi all vied for the prestigious title with seasonal offerings of hobo bags and zaftig satchels – all gifted to celebrities, of course.
The species did not die of natural causes. Fashion authorities suspect that a recent “it” bag – the Yves Saint Laurent Muse – is mostly responsible for wiping out the trend of women coveting one brand of designer bag ad nauseam.
The Muse, a jaunty and haughty take on a bowling bag, was the Palme d’Or among accessory addicts. Like a slain stag slung across the roof of a pickup truck, the
Muse signified that a woman had bagged the right bag.
Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and other starlets reserved the cozy crooks of their arms for the popular purse.
These days, life pales for the Muse. The newest gray-felt version of the YSL handbag was last seen sheepishly lurking on discount retailer Bluefly.com . It was priced at 20 percent off. (Muse’s distant cousins – the Burberry Edna and a patent leather satchel by Fendi – are currently selling at Costco.)
Much like the popular pretty girl who always dies first in a horror film, the “it” bag was a victim of its own ambition.
“A bag is only an ‘it’ bag when it’s not accessible to everyone,” says Christos Garkinos, the co-owner of designer consignment store Decades Two, who admits that he is currently harboring a few secondhand Muses in his shop. “When Banana Republic and Forever 21 came out with a version of the Muse, it was suddenly everywhere.”
Not to mention the coy Muse clones sold by Guess, H&M and almost every counterfeit purse hustler from Canal Street to Santee Alley.
Muse-carrying studio execs and talent agents were horrified to see their assistants rifling through their very own Muses. Beverly Hills, Calif., socialites mistakenly grabbed the wrong white Muse after a few mimosas.
“I ordered one when I was in New York, but then came home and saw everyone carrying it,” says Jessica Wu, a chic Los Angeles dermatologist with an A-list clientele. “I sent it right back without even opening the box.”
The Muse’s noxious ubiquity has spurred the most fashionable women to stray from the retail herd mentality. A purse touted as the next “it” bag holds as much cachet as a VIP Blockbuster membership.
“There’s a backlash because women feel betrayed by the fact that a company calls a bag ‘limited edition’ and then makes 100,000 of them,” says Milton Pedraza, chief executive of the Luxury Institute, a retail research company in New York. “That’s deadly.”
The “it” bag – in all its incarnations – will be fondly remembered.
The Muse is survived by its sister, the YSL Downtown bag, and offspring including the Muse charm bracelet, Muse wrap sunglasses and Muse sandals.
____________
Labels: designer handbags, ysl downtown
# posted by liz wood @ 11:11 AM
