Dead Men Walking 0

About the only designer in New York who doesnt attempt to resuscitate the dead is Narciso Rodriguez. I mean, if I see another Adrian, Mainbocher, Alaia or quietly finessed McCardell look And let us not to talk about the Sisters Mulleavy. I took the R train downtown to their Rodarte show and watched with mild surprise as they sent out every kind of shapeless sack with pastry ruffles and gobbets of chiffon.

Later, I fell into a conversation with a photographer in Rodriguezs backstage about how one should regard the sisters work. He felt it would grow on us with time, going from palatable to acceptable. He cited other examples, like skulls.

I listened to him and slowly ate my healthy model snack food in the crowded backstage area. I suppose he had a point. Still, I dont want to think of all the things we humans have allowed to grow on us that firm standards might have prevented.

A piece from the Narciso Rodriguez show.
Rahav Segev for The New York Times.

Rodriguezs show was terrific, I thought. He just pushed past all the fake futurism, the 1970s Saint Laurent revivalism (thanks to the Runway reader who pointed out the Maud Frizon influence at Marc Jacobs so true), and he just knocked out these hot clothes. I loved the new sharpness of the skinny black pants, the simplicity of a black coat in silk and nylon with slightly cropped dolman sleeves.

And Natashas finale dress was pretty sensational, too. Two tiny, completely useless bra cups, a couple of strings, and yards of airy volume.

Around 11:00 last night, I dropped by Rodriguezs after-party at the Gramercy Hotel. Jessica Seinfeld and Rachel Weisz were there. The next thing I knew Donna Karan was standing near my chair. She has been something of a mentor to Rodriguez, and of course a friend. She gave him a huge hug. She was still there when I left around midnight.

See more Narciso Rodriguez photos.