There was a lot to do with the masculine and the feminine, and the hard and the soft, and primarily with what Cédric Charlier called “the mix” at his show last night. It was one of two that he will show annually, this one to comprise traditional Resort and Spring deliveries. The runway was hosted on a Hell’s Kitchen rooftop as the sun fell on a day that had turned mercifully clear after late-afternoon showers; and regardless of the grumbling of some editors queued at the entry, it’s worth noting that a strong New York sunset can do wonders toward lifting flagging spirits.
But back to the show: The soundtrack was cut together from classical to new wave, rock, and soulful crooning, including multiple versions of “My Way,” ending in Frank Sinatra’s. The clothes were likewise spliced and diced: Strong-shouldered suiting in menswear fabrics had feminine, smocked waists or billowing silky caped backs in shades of daffodil; there were also Grecian-style slip dresses in fuchsia, neon yellow, and sky blue. “I have my really feminine looks, and my not-so-feminine ones,” said Charlier after the show, citing the 1960s photography of David Hamilton as his starting point.
The results were mixed: Some of the menswear fabrics rendered as smocked tube dresses or narrow trousers had frayed edges, like they’d been recently, hastily cut, but a slim-fitting pair of jeans had two shades of denim, dark and light, that were seamless, expertly fused together. A sheer ’40s-style frock in a deep shade of moss had an enviable, earthy flow, but then a fuchsia pantsuit over a Crayola-blue blouse felt like a pop-rock explosion. A few sporty knit cropped tops in pale yellow and blue had scalloped edges and a real forward thrust—along with those dual-toned denims, they looked modern, and wearable, and various members of the New York breed of It girl/DJ perked up once they’d been spotted. Ditto a ruffled white bra top, and a maroon suede bomber with that same smocked waist. A military-inspired jacket with a touch of flou? It worked. “I did it, like the song!” said an exuberant Charlier backstage; that’s to say, he did it his way.
