Fashion Week 2009 Wrap Up Part One: Cathy Horyn Calls It!

DAHLINGS –

Fashion Week is over at last.

I am having to write this blog-thing myself. I cannot reach my assistant, damn the woman. I’ve had no rest at all, I tell you, no rest at all, and neither has Bucky.

In a rare moment of confession, I have to tell you that Cathy Horyn’s article in The New York Times yesterday (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/21/fashion/21REVIEW.html?_r=1) sums up much of my thoughts. I was not allowed into Marc Jacob’s collection, I shall not lie to you. Your high opinion of me means too much.

Your faithful correspondent enjoyed Ralph Lauren’s collection more than Ms. Horyn, but I am a bit more of a traditionalist than that fine critic.
(All photos by Marcio Madeira)


Note that this one example of the Omnipresent Silhouette (above) is covered by a gorgeous coat!




And yes, Francisco Costa of Calvin Klein knocked it out of the park for yours truly. Cathy and I are in agreement. Creativity and elegance, my favorite combination.


Although even the great Mr. Costa could not resist the lure of the Silhouette...I was asked repeatedly what it means: youth, hope, optimism? To tell the truth, mon cher lectuers, I have not the foggiest idea. But that's fashion. Silhouettes happen.

More later,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Fashion Week Part Three - all hail Francisco Costa!

DAHLINGS -

Before I write about any more of the shows, I must tell you about last night (well, some parts of last night). My assistant was missing when I came in this evening, it's quite annoying. She was supposed to lay out my ensembles for tomorrow! She's been in a royal sulk since I informed her she was far too low-class to be seen out and about with me at Bryant Park.

But enough about my domestic troubles. After the shows, it was off to the party of parties, the grand event, the 40th anniversary of Calvin Klein!Of course I had to change in the limo, but I'm an expert at that by now. It was into, of course, a vintage Calvin long chiffon gown (you thought I would wear his vintage jeans? Quel stupide!). This gala event was exactly what your faithful correspondent needed to soothe her jangled senses. Fortunately, I was able to avoid Vincent Gallo. Don't ask me why, but I wonder why he is allowed to live.

The party was held at the High Line, three stories high on 10th Avenue, where I'm told some railroad or something used to be. There were white roses and Calvin Klein adverts everywhere, overwhelming the senses. (And the nostrils.) Our host was the sensational Francisco Costa (I might replace Andre with Francisco, if he is willing!).



If you had laid every celebrity and fashion maven end to end...you would have had what the party looked like by the time it broke up. Here's a glass of champagne to you, mon bien-aimé lecteurs, I only wish you could have been there with me.

Or maybe not.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog