The point of fashion shows, at least in theory, is to see next-season's designer clothes. But at certain shows in New York that's only half the story: it is equally important to be observed seeing them.
Socialites and celebrities alike flocked to Michael Kors' front-row yesterday for what felt like a Manhattanite's Ascot. Star turns included Rosie Huntington Whiteley, English underwear model turned Hollywood leading lady, flexing her famous bee-stung lips to chat with her neighbours as the flashbulbs popped. Those neighbours were Michael Douglas - looking extremely chipper - and Zoe Saldana. Around them swirled stick-thin, flicky-haired scions of some of America's wealthiest dynasties.
And what, after all that people-watching, of the clothes? Well, Kors has found himself at the helm of one of America's fastest-growing fashion powerhouses by riffing on something everybody in America is comfortable wearing - sportswear - then liberally applying the lacquer of luxury. Next spring, Kors fans will be wearing a look he describes as "Afri-luxe", and says with a glorious lack of irony boasts "the rustic modernism of the Lemombo Lodge."
What this means is plenty of zebra, python and leopard-print (as well as some geographically suspect tiger) on swimsuits, sheath dresses, romper suits, shifts and prettily feathered cocktail dresses. There was an explorer theme too; slouch suits, practically-pocketed jackets and trousers and bandolier belts - with buckled on bum-bags - in brown, khaki and olive. Notable footwear included mid-calf buckled sandals cub boots that one buyer admiringly described as "very Masai".
One cream cashmere jumper had been torn and frayed as if the model wearing it had slashed through a thicket of African thorns to get to the catwalk. The menswear, suspect sarongs apart, was very fine. Kors, when he took his bow at the end of the show was the most underdressed person in the room, wearing jeans and old New Balance running shoes. But Rosie didn't mind: pouting heavily than ever she headed backstage to congratulate him.
Straight afterwards came Nanette Lepore, whose fan base might not be as starry as Kors' yet is just as passionate. Fluorescent colours dominated this show, plain on Bardot-esque cotton dresses and two-tone on contrasting lace and sheath-dresses below. On the catwalk it looked seductive, but before wearing much of it you should perhaps to stop and ask yourself this question: do I look like an (albeit extremely chic) member of the emergency services?
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