Mr. #HottestTicketInTown might’ve saved himself a good deal of time and money, if he had the inclination to do so, by skipping the whole rigmarole of a runway show and instead just going to the mountaintop (be it the observation deck at the Empire State Building …or the top floor of Barneys) and in one syllable, seven letters, proclaiming the gospel according to Marc.
Simple. Succinct. Easily tweeted.
Of course, it’s not quite that simple. Besides, we want a show.
At this one, Jacobs kept to the adage, “Leave them wanting more.” His runway show on Monday evening, held at the Lexington Avenue Armory, started at 8 pm. On the dot.
By 8:07 — done.
The models streamed forth from a series of mirrored doors that opened along a wide back wall, and as rock music blared, they charged down the runway. No wonder the show went by in a flash. The runway itself was a long, gently sloped triangle, and these gals booked along as if desperate to get to the free champagne and ciggies at the after-party.
The first look, efficiently printed in the program as “T-shirt,” space, “short,” consisted of a white tee bearing six black vertical stripes, and a pair of barely there black shorts. What followed —“coat slip”…”coat skirt,” “suit,” “suit,” “suit” — were outfits in as many different incarnations of stripes as you can imagine. First vertical black and white referee stripes, then red and white, then taupe and white, then horizontal, then teeny tiny.
There was the occasional breather — a solid coat, or a courtier’s ruffle-necked blouse with long matching skirt — the blouse all prim and proper up top, but cropped or unbuttoned near the bottom, revealing a sexy glimpse of navel. (That’s right, get those Ab Rollers out again.)
Then back to stripes — the best of which had to be on a series of floor-length dresses (which he inexplicably called “T-shirts”) with wide, mod stripes that swerved in all directions; or the final gowns (ahem, “tees”) in black and white geometric-print sequins and slashed at bottom. Shoes were simple, low-heeled pumps, and purses were boxy.
For those keeping track, this is a brake-screeching U-turn from his fall runway show in February, which was chock-full of layers and massive, floppy Dr. Seuss hats. There seems to be a message — a cue for simplicity. Paring down. Which may be as necessary spiritually as well as stylistically after the heavy and heart-rending politics leading up to this fall’s Election Day.
It’s as if his message to everyone is as simple as the collection: Come spring, lighten up.