Orange you glad it’s fashion week?

First of all: cold swordfish > Degrassi. Seriously.

Now—fashion week.

In general, a lot of clean lines, sleek geometry; the best and most interesting things I’ve seen are boiling things down to fit and cut rather than bedazzling with beads and sequins. I suppose the Book of Philo is finally being passed down to those of us in the cheap seats in the back. 

And dear God, what is this French insouciance drug everyone has taken? People are taking pages and pages (binders filled with women?) from Carven and Philo, yes, but there are also so many pouts and Bardot bangs and French rock ‘n roll music playing. It’s like they just discovered the damn place. Every single designer was like, “really inspired by France.” 

Anyways! Here are the best things I saw yesterday at the places I went yesterday.

At Shades of Grey by Micah Cohen: Orange and khaki suede baseball jacket and pencil skirt. If the West Village had a women’s baseball team called The Chill Ingenue Brunch Army. Also, this guy’s hair. Image.


At Rachel Comey: Um, it’s sort of hard to pick just one. The entire thing made me think of a badass spy who was going to be like “go-go-gadget lipstick” and there’d be a flash of light and you suddenly couldn’t remember anything between 2008 and May 15 of 2009. I’m going to pick two: Orange moto-jacket with drop shoulder, denim shirt, black trousers and orange loafers. It looks like the Beat It-jacket, but more kick-ass:


She throws this on and puts Blonde Redhead on her iPod and rolls under cars to dodge bullets or bows and arrows or trouble or whatever and then yanks off her black wig and shakes out a mane of blonde hair and rips that outfit off to reveal—


—THIS, and then she winks at us and says, “Whatever.” In person, the intersection of that orangey-yellow and tough textured gold brew a kind of heady champagne green that I have to say was spectacular and made me grin. Images.

At Tanya Taylor: speaking of winks, the model wearing this winked at me when I thanked her for posing as I snapped a photo of her in this sharp checked suit of an angular jacket and cigarette pant (so superior to skinny)  with a rich burgundy coat over top. There was a great jaunty attitude to this whole collection, which felt maturely cohesive for only its third season (and not in a “look, I used this fabric or motif three times!” sort of way). There were also straight-up winklepicker boots, which gave the primness a punk snarl:


Tanya Taylor is one of those designers who, like Tibi or Jenni Kayne, thinks very highly of her customers and the women she dresses while maintaining a particular and very respectable price point. She knows they are young but knows how to catch an eye to reach for something more sophisticated, more pulled together. Hence the messy hair, but matching pieces with solid fit and gloves just so. Which I like, because sophistication is coooooooool.

Also: there was a reeeeeeally rad men’s dark dark green pony hair moto jacket at Joseph Abboud, and if I were a man, I would wear that. I would wear that ASAP.

Hasta tomorrow!