Tonight’s Marc Jacobs show was a comeback of multiple kinds. Jacobs hasn’t shown a collection since his spellbinding fall 2020 presentation circa February of last year, choreographed by Karole Armitage and starring a corps of professional dancers backing up the likes of Gigi and Bella Hadid. Most of us in the audience hadn’t been to a proper show in almost as long. COVID ground the runway show system here in New York to a halt, though we’ve consumed countless hours watching digital shows on little screens.
Stepping inside Jacobs’s New York Public Library venue, the collective sense of joy was apparent. Smiles and hugs and even kisses were exchanged. To RSVP we had to provide proof of vaccination.
In the 16 months since the pandemic hit, that fall 2020 Jacobs runway took on special resonance. To stumble upon an iPhone movie from the show during lockdown was to gasp in disbelief—the dancers vamped and vogued in between the little cafe tables, close enough to feel the rush of their breath and body heat. Fashion, in the meantime, got really, really comfortable, before it coalesced around retro notions of glamour for a redux Roaring Twenties. Bigger picture, as major world events tend to do, the pandemic helped define a new generation. If the look of Gen Z was blurry pre-COVID, it now feels codified : gender-irreverent, body positive, vintage-loving, thrown-together. To this Gen X-er, it looks free.
Two generations ago, Jacobs co-opted the look of grunge on the Perry Ellis runway, losing himself his job and cementing his reputation as New York’s downtown arbiter of cool in the process. Heaven, Jacobs’s recently launched lower-priced collection of cheeky sweaters, statement tees, and printed jeans, is modeled on the thrown-together finesse of Gen Z. So what would this new ‘new beginning’ bring? If we were playing by the old rules, it might’ve been a maximal counterargument to fall 2020’s minimalism; in the Before Times Jacobs was fond of a fashion 180. It’s also tempting to look for clues in his very active personal Instagram account, where lately he’s been posting a series of Courrèges looks by the Paris newcomer Nicolas di Felice. Neo-Space Age, then, maybe?
What we got was Marc Jacobs couture, a bold statement about the dynamism and allure of dramatic mid-century and, yes, Space Age-y proportions, filtered through an American sportswear vernacular and put together with an eye to the assemblage style and rule-breaking of Gen Z. Jacobs has clearly been paying attention to the ins and outs of fashion: There were both ribbed knit bodysuits and holographic paillette dresses here, which alternately conjured lockdown homewear and reemergence proposals seen elsewhere. But this collection was less about where we’ve been or the current fashion conversation than it was a raising of the fashion bar. It read as an endorsement of adventurous, even extravagant silhouettes: puffer hoods and snoods, cocoon coats, skirts over pants, and faux fur scarves that trailed behind the models like trains. On one side, there were chunky sweaters and almost iridescent ski pants; and on the other, bodysuits cut out at the sides and back worn with flat front midi skirts in Op Art intarsias.
Outsized outerwear was a big story, some with enormous block logos, another outlined with long fringe in the same sans serif shapes. When this collection arrives at Bergdorf Goodman in the fall these jackets and coats will command attention—they’re irrepressible. Ditto a finale look in the bright yellow of the Bergdorf’s shopping bags Jacobs Instagrammed earlier today pintucked like an American Fortuny. But probably the most spectacular pair of looks came in black and white bias stripes: clingy quilted dresses, topped by a puffer bolero in one case and a puffer stole in another.
A large group gathered for hellos and congratulations post-show, but Jacobs preferred to let his show notes do the talking. He titled them Happiness. “On the journey back to doing what we love most, in the wake of immeasurable loss, loneliness, fear, anxiety, and uncertainty, I am reminded of why creativity is so vital to our existence. To life,” he wrote. All this came in the lead-up to this September’s Costume Institute exhibition devoted to American design, and curator Andrew Bolton’s insistence that it—it being American fashion—is indeed as emotionally resonant as its European counterpart. Walking out of this show, few needed convincing. I left as Jacobs intended: suddenly happy.
