With its metallic striped floor and Rorschach shapes carved into the mirrored backdrop, the set by Glaswegian artist Jim Lambie had a hard sci-fi sheen. And the soundtrack was one of composer Philip Glass s exercises in monotone ethereality. But, insisted Marc Jacobs, "This isn t futuristic, this is NOW!" According to the designer, the collection had none of those fashion-history references he loves. In their place was a curious hybrid of high touch and high tech (making Lambie the perfect visual complement). Chinchilla and nylon vest, anyone?
Extremes of real and synthetic defined the clothes. Here a streamlined tailored wool suit or a wool and cashmere topcoat, there a nylon parka over bronze nylon trousers. And everywhere, that fur and nylon combination. City and ski-slope came together in outfit after outfit. Almost as frequent as the nylon was plush alpaca "teddy-bear" fleece. In coats, it had an extreme cuddliness that reflected this collection s only obvious reference point: There was an undeniable hint of cartoonish manga in the exaggerated proportions.
As for the accessories, shoes too went from one extreme to another, either Cuban heeled boots or a stolid hiking style. And this time round, the bags that built Vuitton included a chevron-printed carpetbag, though waiting lists are more likely to form for the sleek ponyskin tote—or perhaps the chinchilla earmuffs that Jacobs himself sported when he took his bow.
