Mirror Image

Whew... What a hard show to find. Well, not really. It's just that this was first time at The Carrousel at The Louvre. And actually, I didn't even sit in the audience. Instead, I was ushered backstage, where I watched a slew of models dressed in metallic shifts in bright primary shades, do happy jumps and darned near back flips before skipping down the runway. The show was pretty - I liked the red and white polka dot stage. Nothing about it was practical and the spread, champagne, orange juice and those little crustless sandwiches the French are famous for, ran circles around anything at New York Fashion Week.

Maybe I'll get to see something more practical soon.

Of course Elie Sabb had wonderful clothes at his collection. But as the first Paris Fashion Week show I attended with a REAL seat, here is where I got a chance to network - read commiserate - with fellow fashionistas. Not to mention, here is where I got to ask the pertinent question. "Is my next event a stop on The Metro?"

I had the most fun chitchatting with Eliza Goodman, a 20-something student from California freelancing fashion articles from the shows for a French magazine.

My next show was Wunderkind. After a late night of writing and then waiting around 45 minutes in this darkened room, I almost didn't make it for the shows. Talk about sleepy. Glad I half way woke up for the collection. It was beautiful in a colorful, Mary Kate Olsen kind of way... Some layers but it was fitted and colorful (Sorry, there weren't any pictures on the AP)

And lastly, there was Chloe. I'm sure the clothes were beautiful. At least that was the fact according to pictures on the Associated Press.

....But from this view, I couldn't see much.

When I arrived at Ralph Rucci's Apartment on Rue de Sevigne in The Marais - a section of Paris that can be compared to New York City's Chelsea - I realized I did not have my cell phone and the wrought iron gate was locked shut. After yet another hunt to find this address, I thought "Oh Man," What am I going to do. Then, a kind Frenchman, who lived in the building, asked if he could help. I pointed him the address and Voila, I was in.

There I was inside the garden apartment that was the home to Ralph Rucci's Paris studio. The funny thing is that here are rows and rows of basic pieces: skirts, jackets suits. Of the hundreds of pieces that made up the Fall 2008 ready-to-wear collection, only 63 ensembles would make it down the runway. This week, Rucci will show his collection to prospective buyers. In the meantime, employees were organizing paperwork and matching models to their outfits.

There were also trunks - 40 to be exact where the collection was shipped on the airplane.

I got to the studio about an hour before the collection was be shipped across the River Seine to the building where the show would be held. Everything was already on hangars and packaged in plastic. It always amazes me how much work goes into a 15 minute runway presentation.

The best piece of advice before I went to Paris came from my co-worker, David Patrick Stearns, who said, "Dear, We are NOT going to take a taxi cab are we?" I'm a New Yorker at heart, so I half-heartedly agreed. When you can't get a subway, you get a cab, right? Wrong!
From the moment I got off the plane it was all about Le Metro. Folks immediately trek to the RER-B so they can take the train (think Septa.) to Le Chatelet and transfer to their train of choice.
My lifeline is the No. 1.(It's yellow so I want to call it the No. 7 as if I'm at home, but I digress.) It takes me literally anywhere in the city. It's the best. These trains even run faster than ones in New York and they also run pretty quickly at night. I have been here six full days now and I have been deep in Le Mariais, down by The Louvre, in the garment district off of Rue du Sebastopol... everywhere!
The best part though is reading the signs. There are some pop stars I've never heard of. But Chris Brown is coming to Paris this month. And, the French like Kentucky Fried Chicken.
My thought, why eat Kentucky Fried Chicken when you can have carpaccio?

This happened on Saturday, but I didn't get a chance to write it...
Nonetheless, I was sitting in a cafe waiting to meet Joan Shepp a few blocks from The Bourse, so I decided to order a milk shake.
The space was tight, so I squeezed in next to a man in a really dapper pinstriped suit. My milkshake arrived, and it looked more like an eggcream, but that's not the point.
I smiled at the man, he smiled back.
He asked me if I spoke French. "Very little," I said. He spoke about as much English as I did French. Still, we managed to have a conversation. It turned out he was from the Congo. He spoke French and a few additional African dialects. He was in Paris on business. He worked in the diamond industry.
There was more light chit-chat, then his eyes widened and he asked me about Obama? What did I think? It's a big deal, yes?
Even here as the Euro continues to whip the tail of the American dollar, the top story is Obama.
That's amazing, isn't it?

As the Gods would have it, Ellen Shepp's friend, Alison Barshak, decided she'd come to hang out in Paris with Ellen the last few days of her trip. Alison's restaurant, is called Alison at Blue Bluebell. We met at the Yohji Yammamoto showroom.

I guess before I go on, I shold talk about the clothes at Yohji. Some things were beautiful. The Japanese designer is known for his architectural pieces in stark blacks and white. But for fall, there is tons of color. And it appears that Yohji is changing the silhouette a bit. The clothes, surprisingly, are a throwback to fashion that predates Dior featuring full, bustled skirts and long skirts with crinolines.

Joan says that showrooms often dresses the mannequins in outrageous looks (replicate what's on the runway.) But they don't expect to sell the pieces together. One of the most interesting things about this trip is that buyers, like Joan, look at the runway so they can familiarize themselves with what WE see, but the real decisions are made in showrooms where the designer's bread and butter pieces- the crisp white shirt, the easy to wear skirt, the full pants, are out in all their possible colors, fabrics and silhouettes.

Anyway, Alison and I were just two Philadelphians in Paris, trying to read a map in French and make our way around a neighborhood that looks much like the garment district. While Joan and Ellen were writing up their Yohji Yamamoto order, we went to a Middle Eastern restaurant called Liza, where we chatted about fashion and food and how the two connect. Sometimes they do. They did this afternoon.

The cool thing about Paris' outdoor cafes is they are heated. The bad thing is it doesn't matter if it's 30 degress outside. You still freeze.

Still, I sat with Drexel University graduate, Megan Stein, in an outdoor cafe across from theBastille for full French ambiance this morning. It was chilly, to say the least, but it was eye opening, too.

Megan has been in Paris for a year. She attended fashion school for a year at École de la Chambre Syndicale de la Couture Parisienne and she quickly landed an internship at Givenchy, under the direction of creative director, Riccardo Tisci. She's been in Paris a year and a half.

What did she learn? Sure, she loves viewing fashion as art, but the bottom line is that she would rather make clothes that sell. Her muse is wasted, she says, if she doesn't make clothing that women can really wear. Think Donna Karan with a more architectural spin. (More on that next week.) Her time at Givenchy was good, she says, but she wants to do something more, so she has cut her 6-month internship short and she's coming home this month.

As luck would have it, I didn't charge my camera battery last night. So I couldn't shoot her pic. Enjoy this shot from the Fall 2008. Right now, I'm writing about shopping chic with Joan Shepp in an economy where $1 only buys 67 cents of stuff in Europe - bummer man! (Check out tomorrow's paper, though...) I'm gonna meet with her later and try to snap some pics before I troll down the Champs Elysees for postcards, French wine and a patent leather bag.

Until then, Au Revoir!

Going to a showroom in Pais is an experience. Having done the bulk of my fashion reporting at runway shows, going to the showroom has given me the opportunity to see collections up close. You can see every wrinkle in the fabric. And you can determine if something is TRULY handstiched. One also gets a chance to learn from the designer, or someone close to him, what makes each piece special.

Since this is the best way to get an education, I wonder why showrooms are so selective over who they let in to see the collection. Journalists know about them as well as boutique owners and maybe the very savvy shoppers, but showrooms would be a good way to teach people about fashion. They may lessen the disconnect between fashion and the consumer. Just a thought.

Dries Van Noten has a beautiful showroom. The aura of exclusivity, however, could not be duplicated in stores. And who know that picking collections could be so intense?

I spent about the first hour and half with Joan and Ellen as we went through every piece in the studio. I couldn't believe that floral pleated dresses were back, but they did feel new, surprisingly. My favorites were the blong sleeved black crepe silk dresses and I loved th colors. Florals in blues and green were georgus and the detailing on the collar of a black-capsleeved dress was quite interesting. Sweaters were in the basement. (They looked so fashionably warm) Round-toed shoes- some really high, some with a simple wedge. Some looked like spectators in funky browns and blacks. They were all on the second floor. This place was massive.

But then I had to go, it was time for Joan and Ellen to write their orders and the company is very persnickety about journalists watching that scene. It probably has something to do with noting the wholesale prices, but who knows. It seems the more upscale the boutique, the weirder they are about the press, anyway. (Things that make you go, hmmmm...) I guess I'll have to wait until late summer to see what's in the stores. But even I am not going to rush summer for the sake of fashion.

Of course, I could have told you that. He's a wonderful designer and his sculpted, streamline looks and tight color story are very in touch with what's happening in fashion right now. That didn't mean that Jilian and Rami didn't have wonderful collection. But Christian with his wonderful use of couture techniques totally deserves the Project Runway crown!

... Check out this blinged out glove by Japanese designer, Limi Feu. (She's Yohji Yamamoto's daughter.) And the stones are real! What a novelty item! The only thing is when I tried it on, I almost couldn't get the glove off. Oy! Guess I'd be doing more than washing a few dishes in France, huh?

I'm leaving Paris tomorrow (Saturday) morning. And as I prepare to leave, I'm reflecting on the most important things I've learned this week. (Other than the fact Dries Van Noten is a man.)

1. French women are skinny because they walk up and down Le Metro all... day... long.

2. I thought Starbucks was the be all, end all until I had TRUE cafe au lait. Steamed milk is my weakness.

3. Carpaccio is King.

4. Creme Brulee is Queen.

5. Croissants are heavenly. Pan au chocolate (chocolate croissants) are beyond heavenly. And croissants aux noix from Laduree on the Champs Elysees are unbelievably heavenly.

6. The next time Geno's Steak owner, Joey Vento, demands people to speak English in his store, send him to Paris. Then he'll know how good it feels to be in a foreign land and have someone tell you where the bathroom is in your native language.
Merci to all y'all.

7. Chris Brown IS global.

8. Smiling is universal.

9. Anxiety is useless. Everything WILL be OK

10. If you're locked in somewhere, look for a button to press. Then Sortie! (That's exit.)

Eliot Spitzer resigned from his post as Governor of New York State a few minutes ago.

And Silda Spitzer was by his side wearing a simple black pantsuit that she accessorized with a silk scarf that popped with red, white and blue blocks. (It was probably Hermes, but that's irrelevant.) The suit was black, funeral black, and that was appropriate given the demise of Ms. Spitzer's husband's polticial future, the death of her position as First Lady of New York City and quite possibly the end of her marriage.

But I want to know why she was there in the first place?

I totally agree with Karen Heller, who wrote this morning, that her attorney should be there instead. You, Silda Spitzer, have the right to stay at home and watch the press conference in your fuzzy pajamas. Your only accessory: a box of Kleenex.

You do not have to be strong. You do not need to be crisp in a black suit and perfect pumps. You do not need to wear barely there makeup. You do not have to be perfectly accessorized.

Every time a woman supports her powerful husband depsite his infidelities to her, she is doing a disservice to married women everywhere. Eliot Spitzer chose to break his vows with the ultimate betrayal. She can chose not to stand by him. I'm sorry I don't believe she was there because she wanted to be. Why should she be humiliated? Dressing like a man in boxy non-gender suits doesn't say squat for true women's liberation. Wearing what you want - whether it's flouncy florals or a Juicy Couture sweat suit- and being respected, is the point. She wasn't respected. Dina Matos McGreevy wasn't respected nor was presidential hopeful Hilary Clinton respected.

I'm not advocating that Ms. Spitzer should leave her husband. I'm not even saying she shouldn't forgive him. But a woman should be able to react based on her heart of hearts. And if she's been disrespected no plain black suit is going to make her feel better about herself and her marriage vows. She does not have to mourn in public. There is no need for a united front. There is no need for fashion. All Silda Spitzer needs is fuzzy pajamas.

What do you think?

Another celebrity jumps in to the fashion fray.
I just can't take it.
It looks like the O.C.'s Rachel Bilson will have her name attached to DKNY jeans. I'm thinking DKNY is hoping Bilson's cache with the younger audience will make both brands relevant.
Oh Woe is me!
Just because one is a celebrity, does not mean one should be a fashion designer. The two are not mutually exclusive.
At first it was cute. Novelty lines from Jennifer Lopez were exciting to see on the runway. Sean "Diddy" Combs acutally has enough business acumen and the smarts to hire the right people to make Sean John a viable example of the best way to do menswear. Gwen Stefani is hailed for a sense of creativity that translates fabulously into her clothing line.
But Rachel Bilson's name connected to clothing seems cheaply uncreative.
And, according to WWD, Kohl's is in talks with singer Vanessa Carlton for a jewelry line. If this don't take the cake, Nicole Richie is allegedly working on a maternity collection for Kohl's.
Would I want to look like Nicole Richie if I was pregnant? I don't think so.
UGH.
What do you think about this latest wave of celebrity fashion?

I kid you not.
It seems that too many nights of beer and video games have caught up with you all. So much so that there are form fitting undergarments for men. Can we say girdle? Can we say body shaper? Can we say Spanx?
Ironically as men's fashions are getting less baggier men are getting more pudgier. Girdles - or girdle like options - smooth everything out because love handles clearly don't discriminate.
So, - Sorry fellas, I can't seem to stop laughing - if you are in the market for padded booty butt boxer briefs, push up boxers or long johns, check out Undergear You can also find similiar products through hot boy underwear line 2(X)ist. These just became available here in Philadelphia at Matthew Izzo Izzo told me the undewear lifts. "It's like a push up bra for guys," he said.
Hot Dog!
Hey guys, would you wear this stuff? This version is by Undergear. Looks like it holds in and pushes up just fine.