Narciso Rodriguez woke everybody up. It’s a little-known fact of Fashion Week that, like running a marathon, there comes a point when you hit the wall. Dress after dress after dress, bony model after bony model, ruffles and pleats and impossibly high heels. After a while, it’s hard to remember which designer showed what — or if you even liked whatever it was they showed.
Tuesday was such a day, where everywhere you turned you overheard the same phrase. “Oh, I’m sooo tired.” By evening, when the Rodriguez show rolled around, many of the high-powered editors and buyers seemed ever so chicly .?.?. comatose. But by the time the last model had completed the circuitous runway, and the applause died down, there was a distinct buzz in the air, as women made their way out enthusiastically discussing what was now on their wish list: “I’ve got to get those tuxedo pants,” and “DID YOU SEE that dress with the sheer back??”
“That dress” was one of several sleeveless numbers Rodriguez sliced down the front or back (sometimes both), leaving a deep V, and placing a panel of material over the chest, cropped very high — thus leaving a tantalizing triangle of flesh.
Some dresses were color-blocked, in large, angular shapes, and in ripe, passionate (and uncommon) shades — russet, cognac, blood orange, magenta. Other sleeveless tops and dresses were adorned with laminated wood paillettes, for an intriguing texture. And many of the dresses, which hit just at the knee, seemed to swaddle the legs as the models walked, swishing to and fro in a way that’s bound to catch a guy’s eye.
But the must-have look of the whole collection has got to be the spaghetti strap top (in blood orange, brick and magenta) with an elastic crepe skirt. The fabric drapes delicately over the bust, and the straps are so thin they’re barely spaghetti straps — more like angel hair pasta.