Jacobs dreams a little dream to close fashion Week on a high

Twice a year, the New York fashion world trudges to the Upper East Side and the cavernous Park Avenue Armory to see what new tricks Marc Jacobs has up his sleeve.

Somehow Jacobs, who has the final fashion Week slot every time - a position of considerable pressure - tends to find a way to surprise and impress. But on Wednesday night he also sent a jolt of delight through the crowd with a joyful and dreamlike ode to fashion of all kinds and all eras.

"Tonight is our reminder of the joy in dressing up," he wrote in notes left on guests' chairs, "our unadulterated love of fashion and embracing grand gestures of unbridled expressions, reactions, ideas and possibilities."

If that was a mouthful, it reflected the ebullient mood of the show. Normally, Jacobs' models walk down a runway in a dark room with a determined pout on their faces. Here, the lights were on and the models were smiling, winking, even waving as they sashayed by.

Suddenly the doors opened and Jacobs' models - 61 of them - entered the room to the strains of Mama Cass singing "Dream a Little Dream of Me." They spread out horizontally and then marched directly to the audience, right past them in their chairs, and out the other side of the room.

Were these wonderfully colorful creatures, resembling the cast of a Fellini film on steroids, now gone? Thankfully, they returned and the show began in earnest, with models emerging one by one to parade in a circle around the seats.

There was color, sparkle, craftsmanship, dazzling variety - and far too many cultural references to count. Bella Hadid looked like a cowboy, in shades of purple, red and gray. Her sister, Gigi Hadid, was barefoot, in a pastel blue minidress and round hat that resembled a 1960s airline hostess.

Associated Press