“I believe in living a life of authenticity – free from the validation and permission of absurd conservatism and societal norms.” Marc Jacobs said he was looking for “joy, period” during his show tonight. It only lasted six minutes – a short, sharp jolt – but it made a big, big impact. I saw Marilyn Monroe in her iconic Subway lattice dress from The seven-year itch, Minnie Mouse in her red and white polka dots and princess dresses from a Disney classic. There were other references for other eyes, but there is no debate that this was a collection full of energy from the main character.
The future may feel like it’s closing in, with the far right gaining ground in Europe and the US, threatening reproductive freedoms, gay marriage and other rights Jacobs holds dear. Dealing with these problems can be hard work; some may wonder if the runway is the right medium. But it is Jacobs’ chosen medium, and he has lately developed a healthy talent for highlighting difficult current issues. What would the world be like if he were in charge? It’s a safe place for everyone, but especially for the eccentrics who wear oversized shoes and clothes of cartoonish proportions, who prefer hyperbole to the understatement of quiet luxury.
Jacobs is, for the record, fully capable of quiet luxury; his fall 2010 collection, a personal favorite, is the sine qua non for that style. But that’s not what this moment calls for, a fact he seemed to underline with a soundtrack featuring Philip Glass Einstein on the beach, an opera about the concerns of the information age, and, slightly less seriously, with his own nail art, which he follows closely on his Instagram. He told Hunter Abrams about his latest “out-of-control French manicure with pastel colors.” Fashion“There is a joy I get from dressing up, wearing accessories and expressing myself; [nails are a] part of that kind of joyful puzzle.”
On the catwalk: more puzzle pieces. It looked like a sequel to his Spring 2024 blockbuster, except here the doll clothes motif had a Hollywood sheen: Marilyn and Minnie and all the rest. Or he looked back at his own oeuvre and put an exaggerated spin on it (remember, he celebrated his brand’s 40th anniversary in February, a major milestone). A big-button skirt suit, familiar from its more demure era, had a super-shrunken shape, while the hourglass of a lace dress was exaggerated, befitting an animated bombshell, and sweater sets and A-line skirts had taken the Plain Jane straight out of the closet. them in acid colors. There was even a tiny, tiny bikini with yellow polka dots, only it wasn’t tiny or tiny, but a few sizes too big, like a doll in real girl’s clothes.
The proportions played a funny trick on you as the models walked down the impossibly long, narrow hallway of the New York Public Library, and a similar effect can be seen in these photos: the ultra-short lengths of the miniskirts and the curved hemlines of knee-length skirts , especially because they were higher in the front than in the back, made other models look like giants – protagonists, if for no other reason that you couldn’t take your eyes off them. With his creepy shapes, hyper colors and crazy shoes, Jacobs tilted the world on its axis for the briefest of moments. “The future remains unwritten,” he wrote in his notes. Can’t we stop time in Marc Jacobs’ fairy tale and stay there for a while?