Fashion Statement in New York
Anna Wintour can spot last season’s Zara sandals at 40 paces. Photograph: Dubreuil Corinne/EMPICS EntertainmentWhat’s the news from New York?
Yes, you read that right. New York. This week’s Fashion Statement comes from a small B&B on in the East Village, where FS is briefly resting its tired and aching feet after a day of shows, half-eaten bread rolls and foot-to-the-floor dashes across Manhattan. So apologies for the late but oh-so-special edition.
During the next few days, FS is particularly looking forward to Diane von Furstenberg (who doesn’t love a pretty frock?), William Tempest and the ethical fashion green shows – plus brunch at Counter, naturally. Meanwhile before Jess Cartney-Morley, the Guardian’s fashion editor, left for the Big Apple this morning she gave FS her take on the next week’s highlights:
New York Fashion Week is stressful before you even get there: just the thought of all those sleek Manhattan Voguettes in their perfect Wu outfits brings me out in hives. New York is the one place where fashion editors really are expected to look like fashion editors. This is a fashion city ruled by Ms Wintour, and – in the words of her close colleague Andre Leon Talley, “Miss Anna doesn’t like people with chipped nail varnish and people still wearing last season’s Zara sandals. So getting front-row-ready in time for my first show on Saturday morning is a challenge. But scruffiness aside, I’m excited: can’t wait to catch up with the glorious Mrs Beckham on Sunday morning for a run-through of her new collection; to see what Tommy Hilfiger does for his 25th anniversary show; to find out exactly what time the now-ridiculously-prompt Marc Jacobs show will start on Monday night (I’m guessing 5 minutes BEFORE the 8pm on schedule) and to hang out with the Brits-in-NY fashpack at the Mulberry do on Soho House rooftop on Tuesday. Bring it on. Just don’t look too closely at my nails, OK?
FS is planning to avert attention from her chewed fingernails by wearing an ‘I love Roger Federer’ T-shirt. That’ll melt Miss Anna’s frosty heart.