It's not in dispute that the fashion industry is in some dark times right now; what are as-yet unanswered questions is just how bad things are, and what that will mean for future patterns of consumer spending.

On the former point, The Atlantic's Benjamin Schwartz takes a dire view indeed, calling the most recent New York fashion week "a splendid relic" and quoting liberally from F. Scott Fitzgerald's Depression-era essays on the free-spending, free-spirited, bull-market 1920s, and what the period meant. (Whether Schwartz's blithely generic line, "The current collapse, universally labeled within the fashion world a depression," and inclusion of data about the layoffs of just under 2,000 people at Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus are strong enough factual support to bear the weigh of Fitzgerald and his Jazz Age elegies is questionable; if and when we see California close its borders and tens of thousands of hoboes camp out on the Washington Mall, then we'll know for sure if this downturn merits a comparison in absolute terms with the Great D.)

But Schwartz's article gets a lot of things right, too. He's mostly on point with the queasy timeloop of fashion, wherein collections are presented six months ahead of the season for which they are designed, made of fabrics ordered six months earlier, and financed with the proceeds of the collection which had, all the way back then, just left stores. If anyone wondered why last September's collections seemed so deaf to the sudden financial crisis ringing through the land, that was why. Similarly, the glut of unsold product that clogged the department stores last fall — and which caused Saks and others to break the rule about not discounting new stock before it had been in store two months — was all there because buyers had ordered it the previous February, when no-one foresaw the crisis, the ensuing recession, or the cataclysmic correction in consumer spending they would bring. (I don't think that, as a result, this February runway models "halved their catwalk fees" out of the goodness of our hearts, as Schwartz's odd locution implies — and the per-show rate he quotes, $20,000, is typical only of models named Naomi Campbell, anyway — it was more like designers cut rates on the girls they were paying at all, cut payment-in-trade on the girls they never were paying to begin with, and we all ate it. But that's a small misunderstanding of an industry subsection that is itself willfully obscurantist.)

Exactly how bad things are — F. Scott Fitzgerald bad, or survive-and-reorganize bad — aside, what to do about the fall in consumer spending has advertisers and magazines thinking furiously. As W magazine reported, the luxury market reached its peak in 2007; unusually, the luxury-goods sector has been hit harder than retail generally, and was down 23% last month. Counter-intuitively, publisher Nina Lawrence sees this as evidence of a "luxury renaissance." In this view, aspirational consumers are down for the count, leaving the very wealthy to enjoy the perks of membership in what is once more a very exclusive club.

Others, and Schwartz is among them, see a place for the aspirational consumer still — but that new ways of reaching her are being found. Sally Singer, Vogue's fashion news and features director, wore a year-old doubleknit cashmere Halston blazer, a J. Crew sweater, and "very old" Devi Kroell ballet flats to the first day of fashion week, and speaks of "conscientious consumption"; ergo, says Schwartz, "this idea of buying so-called investment pieces resonates more deeply today than it did even six months ago." Julie Gilhart, Barneys' senior vice president and fashion director, says, "If I were a consumer now, I'd really want to buy pieces that count, that last; the customer is in no hurry. She should be choosing these things with great care." Singer reminds us that "things that are very expensive can be very expensive for just the right reasons — because they were made beautifully by someone who really gave a lot of care to the design and by people who were fairly paid along the way to execute something that was rather difficult. Those prices that often seem high are fair prices."

Singer edits the Vogue "Views" section, which this month leads off with an exclusive story about Christopher Kane's new position as creative director of Versus, Versace's relaunched, lower-priced line. The Kane-designed "gladiator heels" in the accompanying photograph cost $3,400.

Karl Lagerfeld would support Singer's view. As he tweeted yesterday: "Guilty feelings about clothes are totally unnecessary. A lot of people earn their living by making clothes, so you should never feel bad."

Chanel is a privately held company, so of course it's impossible for any of us to actually know what else besides honest middle-class livings for garment workers is financed by the cost of a $2,000 purse or a $4,000 dress.

The entire idea of "investment" dressing is actually pretty dubious, writes Lesley M. M. Blume, at The Big Money. It's nothing more than a marketing term designed to separate us from our hard-earned cash, says Dana Thomas, the author of last year's De-Luxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster. "They're just changing the slogans. It used to be, everyone deserves a little luxury and a little splurge. Now that no one can afford the splurge, the business executives are all scratching their heads and saying, how can we repackage this again? So now you're buying 'quality things that last forever.' "

Investments are, after all, supposed to hold or rise in value — but this season's $1,600 purse depreciates as soon as it leaves Bergdorf's, like a new car burning off value as it leaves the lot. Only a few luxury items can actually fetch comparable prices when sold second-hand (as-new Birkin bags can actually rise slightly in resale value, since Hermès controls the $6,000-and-up retail market with extraordinary artificial scarcity, closed three-year waiting lists and all). But when the resale boutique commissions (or eBay and PayPal fees) are taken into account, the "value" of a Birkin — or any fashion item — depreciates, often precipitously. "Investment" is a weasel word in fashion, and it's a disappointment to see The Atlantic repeating an advertising term uncritically.

Whether Singer and Gilhart are sincere in their belief that, as Singer puts it, "the world does not need more things," it's true that both work for companies that make their living by stoking the fires of consumption. (Cathy Horyn nailed Vogue's particular blitheness when she wondered at its "peculiar fascination for the ‘villa in Tuscany' story" this January; you would also do well to remember last September's $64,000 gold-dipped fur coat by Fendi, which is of course designed by Karl Lagerfeld. "Value" indeed.) I'm not saying that these industry figures, and others who share their sympathies, can't and won't lead us into a new, more sustainable era of fashion; I'm just saying I'm wary of anything that, at least for now, still has the feel of a cannily adjusted marketing strategy.

Fashion in Dark Times [The Atlantic]
A Luxury Renaissance Is Upon Us [The Cut]
Luxury As An Investment? [The Big Money]
Karl Lagerfeld's Twitter [Twitter]

Earlier:
When A Fashionista Turns On Fashion
Fashion Week: The Party's Not Over Yet
New York Times Bets Against Anna Wintour, American Vogue

Abercrombie & Fitch
This probably won't shock you: Abercrombie & Fitch is torn between mindless apathy and pure evil. In the past six election cycles only one candidate has managed to crack a thousand in campaign contributions collected from Abercrombie employees' studiously frayed pockets, and that politician would be — you guessed it! — George W. Bush. The Skull & Bones candidate has raised $5,000 in racist classist Abercrombie dollars over the past few cycles, largely thanks to spokesman Tom Lennox. It is the only retailer whose employees have contributed to the Worst Presidency Ever.

Urban Outfitters
Urban Outfitters founder and CEO Dick Hayne is notorious for his support of that weird Pennsylvania senator who brought home his dead baby and became the first politician to become synonymous with butt sex. But the single largest recipient of Urban Outfitters campaign contributions has been Barack Obama, whose $7,400 collected from various executives — perhaps subliminally influenced by those clever T-shirts? — just tops the $7,100 of Dick's dollars that have lined the coffers of Rick Santorum.

J. Crew
J.Crew is your store if you are into uneasy family reunions! CEO Mickey Drexler has donated nearly a hundred grand to Democratic committees alone, while octogenarian founder Arthur Cinader likes lining the coffers of any fucking batshit Republican who bats an eyelash his away. Cinader has donated to Alan Keyes, Sam Brownback and Malcolm Forbes, but his fave is Phil Gramm, who has received $8,000 from him over the years.

Barney's
Barney's is the place to shop if you like avant-garde design and hate Hillary. Employees have donated thousands of dollars to New York politicians over the past few years — $1000 to Charlie Rangel, $4,000 to Chuck Schumer, $3,000 to Rudy — and a mere five Benjamins to Hills. (Though $250 did come from creative director Julie Gilhart, who is like the Karl Rove of fashion trends. Perhaps she likes pantsuits?)

Forever 21
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the store for your blue-collar budget is the biggest supporter of the Hillary Clinton campaign, clocking in at $11,500. Interestingly, two executives also donated a total of $4,000 to Rudy Giuliani's campaign and another $2,300 to Obama. Everyone knows variety = the spice of Forever 21!

Childhood: Gunn, raised by a career FBI agent father and a homemaker mother, admits that his parents weren't always sure what to do with their first-born, a boy with a "debilitating" stutter who was painfully shy and preferred the company of adults to his peers. "I became an avid reader, was obsessed with Lego — which was my passion, studied piano and wrote lots," he said. His father, interestingly, worked directly under J. Edgar Hoover as the director's second-in-command.

I don't even know if you need to know this, but here's this FBI guy and here's his first born who is building fantasy buildings in Legos, playing "Mr. Frog Hops" on the piano, and when I got the build-your-own castle for my birthday, I started designing outfits for the soldiers — you know what I'm saying? He coached all of the neighborhood sports teams, none of which his son played on. My father and I had a difficult relationship, but he was always there for me in a crisis. And believe me, I gave him plenty of crises.

Career: When Gunn arrived in New York City in 1983 "running from a crisis," he was still wearing his "D.C. uniform" of "boxy, ample suits." Once in New York, he had "an outer-body experience and realized that no two people on any given street corner are dressed the same. This is a city that accepts you for however you choose to present yourself." (He insists that he didn't have his "real fashion epiphany" until he became the chair of the fashion department at Parsons: "I was 18-months into my time as chair when I had a meeting with Diane von Furstenberg, I'm sure she doesn't even remember this meeting, but I could tell by her quivering eye [that she thought of me] 'I don't know if this is going to work for you in this industry, this particular look.' And I thought to myself, I can't disappoint Diane! So I got a black leather blazer tailored like a suit jacket. That was my solution.") As for how he became chair, well, Gunn, had a bit of a Dick Cheney moment. Tapped to head up the search committee for the top position, he realized that an outsider wouldn't be able to do the job and promoted himself from associate dean.. "The program at Parsons was suffering from dormancy," he said. "The curriculum had been unchanged for 15 years. This was a department in need of love and care." After taking over, he threw out the department's entire curriculum, including its cornerstone program wherein groups of seniors apprenticed to different New York-based American fashion designers and replaced it with a program in which each senior was responsible for creating a collection that would later be presented in a runway show. He says he was vilified for doing so. "I was told by the designers who had worked with students in this program that I was driving the American fashion industry into the ground," he explains. "'Get rid of this man!'," he says the design community exhorted. "He's a bad man! He's a bad influence on the industry!" But the dean at Parsons stood by Gunn — and the very first senior final runway presentation under Gunn's reign, in the spring of 2002, produced the Proenza Schouler debut collection. Julie Gilhart, women's fashion director at Barneys, bought their entire senior project for the department store.

Project Runway: In 2004, Gunn was approached by producers at Bravo about an idea they had to do a reality show about the fashion industry. "I was horrified when they told me what they wanted to do," he said. "I told them, 'This industry is in enough trouble without this!'" But after many assurances, Gunn signed on. As an off-camera consultant. "My having a role on the show wasn't even in the ether" during these early meetings, he recalled. "They said to me, What if we told you we want them to make a wedding dress in two days? And I said to them, So they make a wedding dress in two days! As I tell my students, it will just have to be a make it work moment! But then I qualified my statement and said to them, 'But you should know — [if they make a wedding dress in two days] it's not going to be a Vera Wang.'" Gunn did put his foot down however, when producers broached the idea of hiring a full crew of pattern-makers and seamstresses who would actually make the clothes the contestants sketched. "But who is Heidi going to off then? The seamstress? Oh no," was his response.

The producers worried that the designers wouldn't talk while in the work room, so they asked Gunn to go in there and critique their work and offer advice.

I thought while taping season 1, 'No one needs me. No one needs to see me, hear my voice.' I thought I would going to be cut during edited, that they would just show the designers reacting to whatever I had said. I was too embarrassed to go to the premiere party because I thought for sure they were going to cut me... I watched the season 1 premiere from home the same way I watched The Wizard of Oz as a child: curled up in my bed with a blanket over my head.

As for the shot of energy Project Runway seems to have given to the fashion industry? He's happy. "I'd much rather have people attracted to the industry because of [Project Runway] than because of Sex and the City, which was also a phenomenon," he said of the fact that enrollment in fashion design programs has spiked since Project Runway's debut. And yet he hopes that people realize it's not an easy industry. "Ulli [Herzner, from season 3] called me to lament" the fact that buyers were calling but she couldn't match the demand because, in Gunn's words, "she still insists in having her hand in every part of production. I told her, 'Ulli — let go!' She needs to let go while her name is still on people's mind." Conversely, of season 2 winner Chloe Dao he says: "I have the utmost respect for Chloe. She expanded her business in Houston and did a diffusion line for QVC. It's success, but in her own way." And yet he realizes the limits of his own success garnered from the show: "I was at the Au Bon Pain by where we were doing casting for season 4 and when I walked in, the woman working there screamed, 'Oh my God! You're on TV! You're that guy from Project Runway!' And I said, 'Yes, yes I am.' And then she screamed, 'Everyone look — it's Michael Kors!"

• The rumors are true! Victoria Beckham is the face of Marc Jacobs' spring 2008 collection and has already been shot by Juergen Teller for her print ads. Fashionista says it means Posh is now "officially and undeniably cool." Others within the fashion community are, um, bound to disagree! But they disagreed when he showed up two and a half hours late for his New York show, and he still hasn't filed for Chapter 11, so... [Fashionista]
  
• Kirsten Dunst, meanwhile, has been selected to be the face of the Miu Miu spring collection. God, is Kirsten Dunst still passing as some sort of style icon? She makes Sienna Miller look interesting. [WWD, 1st item]
  
• And speaking of! Ashton Kutcher is ousting Sienna Miller as the face of Pepe Jeans. We're pretty sure this doesn't mean great things for Ashton's career, but it means good things for us! [WWD, 1st item]

• And Matthew McConaughey is set to be the new face of Dolce & Gabbana's new men's fragrance. Gay, anyone? [Fashion Week Daily]
• Whoah: French Vogue editor-in-chief Carine Roitfeld was Tom Ford's muse when Ford was designing Gucci?! Yikes. [Sassybella]
• The poor, long-suffering Stella McCartney won designer of the year at the British Fashion Awards, which gives us some hope that there is a God, as she beat out "I'm Not A Plastic Bag" slag Anya Hindmarch for the title. No, nevermind, we take that back: Agyness Deyn took home model of the year and Hindmarch did win best designer brand. Marchesa (co-designed by Harvey Weinstein's special lady friend Georgina Chapman) won best red carpet label and Christopher Bailey won best menswear designer for Burberry. The totally insane Dame Vivienne Westwood won for outstanding achievement in fashion design, which we guess means that the voters just decided to pretend that her incoherent "manifesto" about the state of culture today never happened. [Vogue UK]
• The woman who brought us J Brand jeans is now moving into the world of dresses, launching a line of all-jersey dresses called Riller & Fount. They'll retail for between $100-$156, which we're pretty sure is still cheaper than a pair of fucking J Brand jeans. [WWD, sub req'd]
• The designers of the label Rodnik started a rock band. Also called Rodnik. And their first single just dropped in England. And Rei Kawakubo is throwing them a party to celebrate at the Commes des Garcons flagship store in London. Who wants to bet whoever DJs it will make more than Rodnik ever will for a gig? [Vogue UK]