Behind the Scenes

It's called the Marc Jacobs Effect, and as far as I know, it was invented by our own Cynthia Nellis, Guide to Women's Fashion.

Cynthia notes that most of our current trends - metallic prints, shorts, the 80s revival - trotted down Marc's runway a year before everyone else was doing them. He's the fashion equivalent of that cool kid in school who always knows the band that's just about to break.

If the Effect remains constant, we can expect to see some ruffles and unders-worn-as-overs at next year's shows. I'm not sure how I feel about showing the world my lingerie, but I'm pretty excited about all the flat shoes at his show this year. That's a trend I can get behind.

Photo credit: Marc Jacobs by Fernanda Calfat/Getty Images.

A friend of mine says that if you want to know what I'll be wearing next year, just ask me what I hate right now.

This has been true of leggings, ankle boots, skinny jeans and the 80s revival. So far, I have remained strong on gladiator sandals and Uggs, and I take fierce pride in the fact that I never wore a trucker cap back in the day.

I'm reversing my position on mimosa, however, and two of my favorite designers are to blame.

My first foray into yellow was Betsy Johnson's fault, for making an adorable baby doll dress in bright yellow and then putting it on sale. More recently, the Lacoste show this Saturday had a gaggle of models take the runway, all decked out in gold and pastel, while cheerful music played.

I don't believe in the hemline theory or the lipstick bellwether, but I'm willing to be convinced that tough times drive us toward happier hues.

Photo credit: Lacoste by Frazer Harrison/Getty Images.

This morning, I was so tired I gave up on eye makeup entirely. Maybe that's why Anna Wintour wears sunglasses all the time?

I don't know if other attendees agree with this, but I'm usually most tired by Day Three. You've had long enough to become thoroughly sick of standing in line (not that anyone loves it to begin with) but you haven't been doing this for so long that you're inured to crowds and sore feet. Maybe tomorrow delirium will set in and I'll be able to enjoy the pretty pretty clothes without whining so much.

Because the clothes? They are quite pretty. From BCBG's one-armed faux strapless to Christian Siriano's aggressively structured faux croc skirt, there's a lot to love this year. Some of it is even wearable.

However, the obsession with dresses (over separates, say) continues from last season, and as much as I love a pretty dress, I have to agree with Women's Fashion Guide Cynthia when she says:

I can't help but wonder if that's really the way girls want to dress right now. Especially during tough economic times it makes more sense to buy versatile separates than a dress that can pretty much only be worn one way.

I guess we'll find out when the clothes - and hopefully customers - hit the stores this spring.

Photo credits: BCBG Max Azria by Kristian Dowling/Getty Images; Payless at Christian Siriano by Arun Nevader/Getty Images.

I can't tell you how much I wish I'd been able to find a picture of Davidelfin's one-armed suit. I even had a caption for it: Do you think this suit is 15% off? Ha ha ha! Recession humor! Get it?

Anyway.

I've been to two shows so far, so my palate is relatively refreshed, but I have to say I've never seen anything like the Davidelfin show at the Tents. It was more like a couture show, in that the clothes were visually stunning but I can't imagine anyone wearing them in real life. Or even in fake life (New York City.)

In addition to the one-sleeved suit, there were trousers with mock-shorts stitched on the front. (When culottes are too cool! Try pantalots!) Also, the inevitable shorts-with-sweater menswear look, which I've seen at many shows but would totally mock if anyone wore it in real life. (My legs are in Brazil! My torso is in the Alps!)

The color palate was pretty interesting, as well. The first half was all in various shades of wintergreen, and the second was in all in shades of blue.

Also, everyone wore Louboutins, but I'm starting to think I'm going to be the only person in Bryant Park this week who isn't.

Photo credit: Frazer Harrison/Getty Images

Today I went to Bryant Park for the first time this season.

I was picking up my press ID, so that they'd let me into the Tents when the shows started. Somewhat less intentionally, I was inoculating myself against crowds and dumb questions.

Now here's the thing: The line for credential pickup is long. Real long. Longer than your lunch break and I don't care where you work. I stood there for two hours today, and that wasn't the worst it's ever been.

Over the years, I have learned a few things about attending Fashion Week. The two most important are:

1. Wear comfortable shoes. You'll be standing a lot, and no one is looking at you anyway. They're all staring at that teenage Ukrainian who just stomped by like a giraffe in lead shoes.
2. Bring a book. You will be waiting. A lot. For a long time.

It's also helpful to have a Zen attitude toward the whole thing, but I haven't quite mastered that yet. For example, I very nearly lost it during the dumb question segment of the line experience today. Sample inquiries below, for your amusement:

"Is this ... the line?"

No. We decided flash mobs never really had their day, and we're bringing them back in a more orderly fashion.

"Is this the only line?"

No. There's a much shorter one. But we like this one, so we're all standing here.

"Is this the line for press?"

No. That sign was put up to deceive you. Also, you're way too important to stand in line, silly. You're a reporter. You know how well we're all doing these days. 

My point is that patience is required and some season soon, I plan to develop some. I can add it to my list, right after the book.

I have a bad habit of referring to anything I really like to do as an "addiction." This includes drinking diet soda, watching trashy TV, and yes, shopping.

But is shopping really an addiction? The experts, as experts do, disagree with one another. As our own Addiction expert Elizabeth Hartney points out:

Like other behavioral addictions, shopping addiction is a controversial idea. Many experts balk at the idea that excessive spending can constitute an addiction, believing that there has to be a psychoactive substance which produces symptoms such as physical tolerance and withdrawal for an activity to be a true addiction.

Even if you side with the experts who feel it is an addiction, you probably wouldn't classify me or most other people you know as shopping addicts. After all, when we say we really need a pair of shoes or a bag, most of us don't mean need in the physical sense.

Which means that our mothers were right all those years ago in the candy store. Next up: The study that proves that making that face will make it freeze that way.

...and no one came?

This weekend, I went to get my hair done - it was an emergency, complete with split ends and gray roots - and was absolutely flabbergasted as the deals I saw advertised in the shop windows. I saw sales of up to 50% off, more if you had a little card thingie, which the sales people were only too happy to hand out.

And the stores were empty. You could have heard a pin drop at Banana Republic, Michelle Obama factor or no. In some of the fancier boutiques, shop girls who would have looked at me like a wad of gum on their shoes six months ago were all smiles and hello-how-are-yous.

All of this made me realize that I haven't bought anything in months. I'm turning into a freegan, which is not, believe me, anything I ever aspired to be. Makes you wonder where we'll be in a couple of months if no one takes the stores up on their offers.

In the meantime, if you are in a shopping mood, you'll never find better deals than there are right now.

One of the most annoying things about Fashion Week is that you wait in line for half an hour - in stages, yet, 20 minutes in the lobby, five minutes in one holding area and five in another - only to watch a ten-minute-long show and then spend another half an hour trying to get out the Tent.

Yesterday, my seatmate and I enjoyed the Lacoste show. I would wear every single thing we saw, even the wacky hat/scarf combos, and the colors were gorgeous: a ton of white and blue and yellow, very subdued but also sort of cheery. I wanted to own all of it, in exactly the same way that I want every colored pencil in the art supply store.

However: the waiting, the waiting. We shifted in our seats for what felt like an hour, and then they started fiddling with the lights - and nothing.

"Come on," I said to my pal. "Put your little jockey caps on and let's go."

"Remind me never to sit with you at a funeral," she said. And we both cackled the way only people who have been waiting in a long succession of lines can cackle.

So, I'm pretty bummed about this.

For those of you who are reading this in some locality where it isn't normal to eat dinner in a restaurant while seated four inches from perfect strangers, Bryant Park has been the home of Fashion Week for over fifteen years now. In that time, it's pretty much doubled in size - which is supposedly why the event will be moving to Lincoln Center in 2010.

Only problem with that theory? The Lincoln Center space is said to be "cramped, weirdly shaped, lacking closet space and hardly conducive to an ambience of luxury." (New York Times, via Gawker.)

Maybe Bryant Park just wanted more room for the ice skaters?

And then, they came for the models, and there was no one left to speak.

It might to hard to muster up much sympathy for struggling models who are forced to accept bookings for half off this Fashion Week, but I'm not being facetious when I say my heart goes out to them. Anyone who's ever seen a group of aspiring models crowding into the subway, stoop-shouldered under the weight of their portfolios has to feel a little bad.

They're sort of like ballerinas when you see them en masse: Beautiful in an alien kind of way, but definitely not of this world, nor precisely attractive in a conventional sense. Well, OK, some of them are, but more than anything, models have a look: tallish, skeletally gaunt, large-eyed like dolls. The impression you get from them is that they're working hard, even when they're not doing anything. And it seems sort of mean to take food out of the mouths of the already under-nourished.

Models also aren't terrifically well-paid. The era of the Super Model is largely over, and very few of the girls you see on the runway at Bryant Park make much more than a hundred bucks or a free dress - which, as Jezebel's Tatiana the Anonymous Model points out, isn't exactly free, since they, you know, work for it.

Even if you can't summon up a proper boo-hoo, keep this in mind: this sort of thing, along with canceled shows, is one of the industry's primary economic indicators. Scary news for all us all.