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

Ralph Lauren Has A Surprise...

DAHLINGS -

At Ralph Lauren’s 40th anniversary celebration at the Central Park Conservatory, your faithful correspondent was truly rendered speechless. It was not merely the celebrity-packed audience, one gets used to those, it was not even the fashions. They were marvelous. Although I shall never understand the appeal of jodhpurs. Why intentionally make one’s thighs look larger?

It was the hats. Not a single funny hat to be seen in the entire collection of over 70 looks! Wide-brimmed hats, top hats with veils, chic little 40s hats…all exactly right. I was slack-jawed with amaze.



The other simply astounding feat pulled off by the designer was that some of the models…

Smiled.



After the endless misery I had been watching on the runways since September 5th, there are no words.

But then I returned home the next morning before dawn to—DISASTER!

My assistant, that lumpkin, that peasant, that selfish pig, had RESIGNED in my absence!

There was a letter on my desk. I refuse to reveal the contents on the grounds that I might incriminate myself, or whatever it is they say on Court TV. Suffice to say she was not coming back.

The impudence! During FASHION WEEK, of all the times to quit! The baggage knew exactly how this would stab me in the back.

I fell back on the chaise lounge, Bucky licking my face sympathetically. Thank goodness dogs don’t know how to give notice. I had to think, and think fast. I needed an assistant, but where to get one?

Then I remembered…my maid has a teenage daughter, who speaks passable English, at least better than her mother’s. What girl wouldn’t leap at such a chance, if only for a few days until I could hire someone better qualified and kick her out?

I summoned the maid, and ordered her to bring her daughter to me immediately. I will write more later, after I get the detective’s report on where my assistant has vanished to.

No-one leaves the Fashionista in the lurch. No-one.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog