Back to black

We haven't seen this much black since Yves Saint Laurent's funeral.

Gathered outside a studio on Hudson street, passers by were confused by the crowd's monotone attire — and joyful attitude. Of course, it was the Ralph Lauren show, and those dark (if incredibly stylish) outfits seemed fit to mourn the final day of fashion week here in New York City.

The bi-annual celebration of style, money, hipness and attitude will be long over by the time you are reading this, the gaggle of editors, stylists, hangers-on and their entourages either on their way to London fashion week, or more likely, taking a well-earned breather and face peel before the circus starts up again, in Milan and then Paris.

The talk here, inevitably, has turned to the drab economic outlook (we love grey, but not that much). At the moment of writing, Lehman Bros is in danger of being sold, and earlier this week US mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were taken over by the government.

But looking back at the week, it's been one of overall optimism — in fact that's the exact term that Gap's Patrick Robinson used to describe his collection of acid-house looks. NYFW is growing every year (and is even attempting to encroach on London fashion week this time next year), with new labels being launched, old ones revived and mainstays going strong. The shows are packed, oversubscribed with store buyers and members of the new media, blogging as they queue in the standing-only line, hoping to get lucky.

Thought the downturn would kill the big department stores? Wrong — they're expanding. Bloomingdales's Soho outpost, a carefully edited collection of clothes and accessories downtown from its Lexington Ave behemoth, has been so successful that they're looking at more mini-stores — and perhaps (hopefully) something closer to us, too.
Not to be outdone, Saks Fifth Avenue is also expanding its presence in Dubai, with a new men's shop in the Marina.

Economy woes

Yes, most designers will tell you that they know this isn't a time to be flogging pricey handbags and shoes, with more and more people in the US experiencing layoffs and foreclosures. That attitude goes hand-in-hand with Americans' fear of appearing rude. The punchline is that they'll do it anyway, and apologise later. That's the dichotomy of fashion week 2008: it's as much a slap in the face to those sleeping rough in nearby Times Square as it is a shot in the arm to the American economy. US designers still have the creativity, accessibility and mass appeal to sell bigger than the London, Milan or Paris labels can dream of (Gucci and Louis Vuitton excepted).

That's why Calvin Klein was able to spend millions of dollars celebrating its 40th anniversary (although the founder himself was conspicuous only by his absence), and why it had to stage its collection in two consecutive shows. (I'm not much good at mental arithmetic, but I figure about 1,200 people at EACH presentation.)

There are, of course, fears and upheavals. Bill Blass' couture and ready-to-wear lines are troubled. Young designers worry about the influence of corporate America, and the future of New-York-based manufacturing — so important to young designers, who make such small collections that it's not feasible to send them to be made in China — was the backdrop of Nanette Lepore's show.

But what's new? Fashion is black one season, red the next — and so on. We've been here before and will again, so let's just enjoy what we can. So, as if to bid farewell, and send the fashion pack on its way to damper climes, New York poured with drab rain on Friday. A wake? Think of it as a reincarnation.