It could've been a movie, so picture-perfect was Oscar de la Renta's take on the good life. From beginning to end, and day to night, the collection sparkled. A houndstooth sheath glinted with crystal embroidery; a cardigan (of which there were many covetable varieties) came trimmed with chains and stones; and tweed coats were laminated so that they resembled crinkly patent leather.
On top of that, the fur was fairly flying, from après-ski vests—little rings of ermine or sable circling the shoulders of models in evening dresses—to weightless chinchillas for warding off the wind as it whips down the avenues. Even the designer's sweaters were lined and edged in the stuff. But when it comes to luxe factor, the astrakhan shot through with gold and finished off with face-framing wolverine was the ne plus ultra.
Come evening, the designer had something for everyone to covet: for the minimalists, a silk velvet dress with swayback in deepest navy; for would-be princesses, the fairy tale of a gown in embroidered anthracite tulle with matching chinchilla bolero that closed the show. Complaints? He could've switched up some of the sequin cocktail dresses for a few more suits. Otherwise, this was another Oscar crowd-pleaser.
