The outfit - sorry, the "lemongrass yellow wool lace shift dress with matching overcoat " - is the centerpiece of Isabel Toledo's retrospective show, which opened last night at the Museum at FIT. To the fashion outsider, walking through the doors of the 7th Avenue building was akin to the moment when the golden ticket-holders are first ushered into that room full of lollipop flowers and chocolate waterfalls and Gene Widler sings "Pure Imagination": bizarre, fantastical, somewhat sinister. Kenny Loggins wasn't playing, though; Santana was, although it was hard to tell over the din of shrieks and air-kisses.

Vogue editor Andre Leon Talley was there, holding court in some kind of docent's robe, and refusing to let fashion fan-girls take his picture "because I don't know where it might end up." ("Bitch!" he screamed delightedly when Narciso Rodriguez appeared.) Photographer Bill Cunningham darted about, elongating his vowels and taking down the names of those in the most outrageous getups. His muse, Louise Doktor, was there too. And someone in a sort of pink velvet admiral's hat. Simon Doonan wearing a jacket whose back read "There is No Such Thing As Good Taste." A couple who sort of looked like Buckingham-Nicks, if Buckingham-Nicks were also art collectors with a home in Tuscany, and wore buckskin trousers to boot. And a man in a thong. Lots of Toledo, of course, distinguished by its intricate craftsmanship and the wealth of its wearers. The unofficial dress code seems to have been "Victorian school-boy" but "Damon Runyan" got its fair share of play, too.

The Toledos, looking characteristically dashing, spent the entire time talking very nicely to friends and admirers and posing for pictures with anyone who wanted them to. Also very nice were Lynn Yaeger, Austin Scarlett and Betsey Johnson, all looking like themselves, except that in Scarlett's case this also kind of means young YSL. Many others were satisfyingly horrible. Presumably as a nod to Toledo's Cuban heritage, the nibbles were Latin-inflected: little empanadas, a sort of chicken and refried-bean wrap, and one thing composed of a miniscule pastry shell, three black beans, and two corn kernels.

The exhibit is downstairs. It's beautiful; there are Toledo's origami shapes, the zig-zag and the tube; her work with lace; the unbelievably pretty work for Anne Klein, with the textiles her husband designed. All of it polished and intricate and engaging, with Ruben's illustrations throughout.

And there, of course, is The Outfit. The "lemongrass yellow wool lace shift dress with matching overcoat." People were having their friends take their picture next to it, so it took a little while to get a good view. The first thing one thinks is, "Michelle Obama is really tall." The "wool lace" is a lot woollier, and more crewel-like, than one realized. The chiffon ribbons seem particularly benign and uncontroversial and demure, behind glass. It's nice. You don't feel any closer to Mrs. Obama or anything, but it's nice. "Splendid!" someone bellows behind you, and you have to move along.

Are heels this season so high because the economy is so low? There's power in height, in the instant and literal lift one gets from heels. Some say they feel sexier, and there's no doubt that wearing heels changes the posture of a woman — pushing out the chest, tensing the calf muscle, elongating (actually hyperextending) the leg and putting stress on the lower back, causing hips to work harder and therefore "sway." But where is the true power when you can't really walk? Where is the power when most of the popular shoes were designed by men who don't wear them? Ever notice how ladies who wear sneakers all the time have smooth and un-callused feet, and women with a "sexy" heel habit have stressed out and jacked up feet? Why, after thousands of years and a sexual revolution, do we continue to do this to ourselves? Is it because there's a thrill in being a woman, in claiming all of the chicks-only, "feminine" accoutrements that go with being decidedly female? While you ponder these questions, I'm going to see if I can find a price for those black Giambattista Valli numbers on the lower left. What? Just curious!

Skyscraper Heels: They May Be Painful And Expensive But We've Seen Nothing Yet [Independent]
Posh Spike needs a head for heights as she steps out in five-inch heels [Daily Mail]

Earlier: Fashion Victims
Fashion Writer Wears Fashionable Shoes, Loses Will To Live

[Images from Style.com via Flora's Box]

The Five Types of Extreme Shoppers

1. Miss Lonely Hearts: "Well-practiced at pouring her heart out to a salesperson on a regular basis."
   In brief, these ladies are really rich... Off of their husband's money. They don't work. Spending aforementioned husband's money is their main occupation. Also, these women are getting increasingly younger and younger. This "type" also includes, however, the mid-divorce-wife who is trying to drive up her spending habits to get more in the settlement. Consider these your executive nut jobs, to paraphrase Eddie Izzard. No fucking around with these ladies.
   
   
   
2. The Addict: "Shops nonstop, and isn't exactly sure why."
   If a customer makes her first phone call from the plastic surgeon's recovery room to her favorite sales clerk, asking him to send over the latest looks for her new body (true story!), she's an addict.
   
   
   
3. The Psycho Shopper: "Prone to tantrums and just plain bizarre behavior. One such shopper had a Bergdorf Goodman staffer snap naked photos of her in the dressing room."
   Known for exhibiting "register rage," turning a dressing room into her satellite office, and saying things like, "My husband is jealous of these boots because they are better looking than he is. He hasn't spoken to me in a week because he thinks I am paying more attention to my boots than to him."
   
   
   
4. The Performer-Exhibitionist:"Inclined to parade around the store in her underwear, flirt with salespeople or show off her latest dance move or bauble."
   Based on WWD's reporting, these women are really into yoga. They might start performing poses at the register. Or, they might begin their practice in the middle of the sales floor wearing "only a thong." Says one poor salesman, "I can't tell you how many naked women I have seen. It's a safe perversion for them. They know I'm gay but they love the idea of a man looking at them naked. They have me lift a boob, adjust a bra or snap a bodysuit. Ick."
   
   
   
5. Little Ms. Indecisive: "Tries on clothes as a form of exercise, is a big fan of putting merchandise on hold for days before actually buying and often is a chronic returner."
   Apparently, these customers are "in mourning." Because they're probably already deeply in debt. Fun!

Shoppers In Need Of A Little In-Store Psychology [WWD, sub req'd]

L & C: Chris Benz SS08, R: Behnaz Sarafpour SS08

L & C: Behnaz Sarafpour SS08, R: Angel Chang SS08

L to R: Vera Wang SS08, Abaete SS08, Marc Jacobs FW08.

[Images via Elle.com.]

ELLE: Jan-Mar '08 ['08 $] 71,832,955 ['07$] 64,793,223 [% change] 10.9 ['08 pgs] 583.55 ['07 pgs] 552.00 [% change] 5.7

The team at Elle is doing something right, if PIB figures are a tell (see previous post 'It's not just newspapers.') And I suspect circulation figures, especially newsstand, were also strong for the same period, which coincides with the end of the last PR cycle.

Not all the work is done in the office especially in high profile positions at a fashion magazine. What seems like a glam lifestyle to many — designer dinners, fashion shows, gala functions — is considered work and has value. Also let's not forget, during the '2 years' cited by the 'insider' (read, one who likely wished their job was to get out to attend the aforementioned) Nina had a baby. Motherhood is very important work, isn't it?

I actually heard when I worked there, that Nina had slept with Joe Zee not Gilles... wait, wait now I remember... They said Joe Zee loved having trio's [sic] with Nina and Robbie Myers IN THE CLOSET! yes!...and that they walked out with their hands full! Did you spread that stuff you said she did on your fucking tongue or what you bitch! You really hate and envy Nina right?...is it that you are in LOVE with Nina and truth is her popularity kills you!

Earlier: Elle Continues To Toy With Nina Garcia's Affections

The foundation of Aliza's outfit is, naturally, built upon the shopping mecca of aspiring hipster poseurs everywhere: American Apparel. Below, the leggings, scoop-neck leotard and black hoody.

(Unisex flex fleece zip hoody, $40; cotton spandex jersey legging, $26; jersey short sleeve t-shirt leotard, $28.)

And her boots? White fringe stylings are something that could only be found at a place called the Boot Barn.

(Oak Tree Farm "Oasis" fringe boot, $89.99)

And don't forget the hair! This Beverly Johnson wig in Shade 4 ought to do the trick.

(H-214 by Beverly Johnson wig, $45.90)

But to really encapsulate Aliza-style, you've gotta rock the baggy leopard-print short. Where to go? The men's underwear section of WildFree, naturally.

(Wild Free men's lingerie silk leopard-print boxer shorts, $24)

Related: Shvarts Explains Her 'Repeated Self-Induced Miscarriages [Yale Daily News]

"Why is there this division all of a sudden between people in support of me and people against me? How did this happen? I haven't done anything to anybody! I look at Karl Lagerfeld and John Galliano—everybody has their shtick. And just because this wasn't my shtick two years ago, it's a problem."

There are few remaining champions of Mark Jacobs. Affection for him has eroded over the past year in particular, as he has emerged as a gym-and-Sponge Bob Square pants-and-Victoria Beckham-obsessed mean girl, someone who lets the masses wait ages for his fashion shows to start, only to stick his tongue out at them from his own turn on the catwalk afterwards. This is not the fat and greasy Jacobs that garnered notoriety and respect for showing "couture grunge" for Perry Ellis over fifteen years ago. And I suspect that Kaylin, who wrote of her inalienable right to employ a nanny in her recently-published book the The Perfect Stranger, doesn't have much sympathy for a man who openly hates his mother. (In her book, Kaylin was very insistent about how much her children must love her despite (in spite?) of her choices. Jacobs probably made her uncomfortable.) When he was seven years old, Jacobs's father died from ulcerative colitis (a condition he also has), and then watched his mother take off on, as Kaylin puts it, "a chaotic period of power dating and failed marriages." This underscored the young Jacobs's belief that his mother was, inherently, a person who made poor choices:

I hate the term 'bad taste,' but my mother wasn't, like, a very chic person. Jane Fonda in Klute was definitely one of her role models, much to my father's dismay. But when I'd watch my mother getting dressed up to go out on dates and she'd be putting on three rows of false eyelashes and some hideous fox-trimmed brocade coat with a wet-look miniskirt and knee-high boots...

Utterly cold on the subject. I never believed that idea that you're supposed to love the members of your family. I hate the idea of obliged feelings—I just think that's a huge waste of time. But I've had enough conversations with people to realize that I'm the oddball in this category. I can't think of anyone as detached from their family as I am. Or as detached as I say I am.

Exercising is fun — the best part of my day. I'm such a catastrophic thinker that when anything happens, I figure I better just live life to the fullest — buy a diamond necklace, get another tattoo, work out... Whatever makes me feel good, I want more of. If work is going well, I want to do more clothes. If the gym thing is working for me, I want to be bigger. If getting my hair cut makes me look younger, I want to play with the color.... 'I want to look hot.' That is such a dumb thing to say. But what's so cool about it is that you can say it. Yeah, I want a bunch of muscle queens at David Barton Gym to think that my body looks dope. And I might think that was an awkward and dumb thing to say, but I still like that I'll throw it out there. Because it's true, you know?

Well. some of us would. Let's hope he stays sober and healthy. I'll bet there are still many creative tricks up his fashionable, neurotic sleeve.

Marc Jacobs Doesn't Give A F___ [GQ]

"On the one hand, I'm almost relieved that Beckham is owning the fact that she's selling herself as a product," Martin explains. "It's what so many of today's vacuous celebrities are doing anyway." But:

On the other hand, it all makes me sick. We've moved beyond 'the male gaze" and objectification; now girls can grow up worshiping Victoria in her painfully tall stilettos and aspiring to be seen as a "living doll," an inhuman product. Beyond the classic advertising trope of cutting women into pieces, this ad campaign also seems to suck the real life right out of them. Please, please, please boycott Marc Jacobs.

When Is a Fashion Ad Not a Fashion Ad? [NY Times]
Beyond Objectification: Woman as Product [Feministing]

Just this past February, the company's stock fell 18% in a day, proving that Gunn's name was not enough to translate into action at the cash register. Even Gunn's attempts to up the company's fame factor — Isaac Mizrahi was hired to be creative director of the Claiborne womenswear line and John Bartlett hired to oversee menswear soon afterwards — haven't helped. (Sure, the day Mizrahi's new role at the company was announced the company's stock was up 25%, but "much of that evaporated within a few weeks.") It remains unclear on how this acquisition, helmed by Gunn, has done anything to get Claiborne out of the red and into the realm wildly popular. Says Gunn: "I honestly think that in the not-too-distant future, this company will establish new paradigms of operations, the likes of which I don't think this industry has ever seen. I think we're going to be a Harvard Business School case study." Sorry, Tim: I'm a major fan, and I know that your new starpower designers' stuff won't be seen until next spring, but I remain unsold on your products and verbiage, both.

Project Rehab [Fast Money]

Earlier: How Tim Gunn Is Connected To J. Edgar Hoover, And Other Surprises About Project Runway's Favorite Father-Hen

Let's face it. If you are a normal person, you do not have close to $800 to spend on a pair of shoes. And even if you did, you would probably be spending it on something you could wear over and over again, or, hell, something you could wear at all. (Forget "if you have to ask you can't afford it", this is "if you have to be mobile you can't afford it.")

"I feel horrible when my girls come in here and say, 'I can't spend this much on sandals,' " says one boutique owner, who spoke with the Los Angeles Times regarding the rising price of ridiculous shoes. "They think it's my fault, but I am paying these high prices too." Another LA boutique owner agrees. "When Chloé came on the scene, I remember noticing it. All of a sudden, every line started designing a shoe collection that was more elaborate and more expensive."

Why do women do it? Bankrupting themselves, making their tootsies uglier and forcing pain upon themselves for some perverse pleasure gotten from owning something so impractical, so debilitating, and so (we repeat) fug? Let us not forget the sagacious words of our favorite paper, London's Daily Mail, which explains the allure of high heels thusly: "Men like an exaggerated female figure." Yeah, my boyfriend who insists men aren't looking at my feet? Apparently he's right.

Whatsa Matter With Choo? [NY Observer]
Manolo Lovers Feel Financial Pain At the Pump [LA Times]
Life's Little Mysteries [Daily Mail]

[Image via Style.com]

Hadley Freeman thinks so. She's the author of The Meaning Of Sunglasses. And, according to Crispin, she "namedrops Andrea Dworkin and poet Joseph Parisi as often as she does Anna Wintour. She's the one you want on the other side of the changing room... If you came out looking cheap, she would grab you by the shoulders, turn you around, and demand you change immediately. As she writes in the section labeled 'Cleavage, and the plumbing of depths,' 'Show me a woman with a good three inches of cleavage on display, and I'll show you a woman who, rightly or wrongly, has little faith in her powers of conversation.'"

Here's the thing: If you're smart enough to realize that fashion is a cultural construct rooted in sexist ideals and designed to divide women from their dollars, are you not allowed to admit that you sorta like a Gucci purse? If you have the intellectual capacity to understand that if all mankind wore some kind of uniform, like monks' robes, the globe would be alleviated of many problems — from sweatshops to bullying — should you feel guilty about liking the Jovovich-Hawk collection for Target?

"Freeman wrote a book for women who actually exist," Crispin writes. "Women who have to wait for buses in the middle of winter. Women who like to dance at parties, and do not want to have to sit in the corner because their feet are bleeding." Fashion is not just for Vogue and Karl Lagerfeld. It's self-expression, it's loving to get dressed, to get dressed up; it's realizing that your clothes can reflect your thoughts, your mood, your passions. And if someone's passionate about clothes, isn't labeling them shallow sort of superficial?

Feminists Want To Look Good Too [Utne]
How To Shop [The Smart Set]

Flashback: '30s Fashion Predictions for the Year 2000 [GiggleSugar]

Why don't people tear their own clothes if that's what they want? Why buy a torn T-shirt from me? ...If you hear Anarchy In The UK today your hair stands on end. It gives you the shivers... I moved on. I realised that it's only ideas that are subversive in the end. It's not rushing around being a rebel.

I never tried to impose things. And I felt my sons should respect me. It would have to be a real emergency, for example, if they would wake me in the middle of the night, or even early in the morning. But I always thought what I could give to my children were my opinions. I don't think I was very good at educating my children... Oh, maybe I was in a way. My eldest son [a porn photographer] reads... And my younger son... Well, until a year ago he had only read The Great Train Robbery and a history of Jimmy somebody or other... But then he's Malcolm's son as well, so...

I do all these shows in Paris [where he lives] but I don't think of inviting him even. I think he's been too bad to me. Finally I decided he wasn't worth seeing. Sorry, I shouldn't say it in that way, but I don't expect he'll mind.

He needs my calmness and my grounding because he's very hysterical. He gets overwhelmed by himself. [...] I've never been interested - I've never worried - what he's up to or anything. I let him go - not let him, I mean he goes - on holiday by himself. And he'll change his clothes two or three times a day, even on the beach. And that man - he has to change his underwear. He has to feel things. He's a very sensual person.

She's really conservative. I'm very disappointed in that. She wears jeans. I think jeans are terrible... She said to me, "It's more important if people are nice people than what they wear." I said, "Rubbish."

Viva Viv [Telegraph]