It wasn t easy drawing people s attention away from their freezing extremities—fleece blankets didn t quite make up for the lack of heat at his venue—but Yohji Yamamoto put on a mostly satisfying show in shades of navy, black, and ivory. Many of the looks were conceptual, to be sure, but wearability wasn t sacrificed on the altar of deconstruction. You didn t have to be a longtime acolyte to be seduced by the strapless dresses that looked like double-breasted coats with everything above the bust sliced off. Coats with asymmetrical pleated hems that sagged in places, as if the seamstress had dropped a few inches of stitches, likewise had a sweet, unintellectualized charm.
Bold volumes dominated. A man s shirt was elongated into a dress; the aforementioned pleats were blown up and turned into strapless, floor-scraping numbers; and one ribbed-knit union suit was seriously oversize. The only things that fell flat were the coats with faces stitched in profile. Yamamoto may have been forced to close stores, New York s included, after being rescued from bankruptcy late last year, but it looks like his sense of humor remains intact. His show-closing bride wore black.
