Roving Reporter: Rag & Bone

I'm feeling a bit grouchy from a late Friday night followed by an unexpectedly early start to Saturday morning. And to the jilted woman who kept shrieking, "Jamie, open the door! Jamie....open it! Open the door, Jamie!" on the pavement outside my building for 20 minutes, I hope you have many miserable Valentine's Days.

I find my mood improving upon review of the Rag & Bone show in New York, which marks yet another successful season for the two Kentucky boys with no formal training. It’s hard to believe that Marcus Wainwright and David Neville learned what they did about denim – and then menswear and women’s wear – by making friends with pattern cutters and seamstresses. Two points for immersion therapy!



The Japanese/space-tech influences were clear in the latest pieces from Rag & Bone, seeming to prepare everyone for the financial apocalypse, but there was a bit of ‘dandy’ thrown in for good measure. Basket-weave dresses mixed with low-denier black tights (my alternate of choice to basic thickies) or don’t-mess-with-me athletic leggings, but the designers were just as quick to slip in a leather-lapel blazer, complete with red poppy for zip.


For the men, it was three-piece suits (including angle-cut waistcoats), with the notable substitution of knee-cinched ninja pants for tuxedo trousers. That, and the occasional samurai ponytail, stood out.



Three of my favourite surprises of the collection? Coco Rocha and her blazing new ‘do, Freja Beha Erichsen sending out a tribute to YSL drop-crotch trousers (yes, I wonder why I like them too) and a Balmain/Leger shout-out in an asymmetrical, Matrix-chic bandage dress. This, people, is how to make a recession entertaining.