Mon, February 4, 2008 6:03PM
Sari Gueron, Rachel Comey, and Sue Stemp Make Ruffles
OVER THE WIRE
Rolling into the Sari Gueron show felt far more casual than one would expect from a designer well-loved by celebrities, editors, and the grown-up Gossip Girl set. At the Prince George Ballroom the line was calm and collected (and included celebrity spirit Julianne Moore).
Gueron's looks, by the by, were somewhat overtaken with lace — but we were swayed by vivid colors and layered skirts beautifully styled against a good helping of buttery black leather. All that fabric suggested fall without shouting it. Classy and demure, staring Sari Gueron, coming to a fine boutique near you.
On a dark and somewhat stormy night, the eerily amazing Rachel Comey put on an eerie and amazing show at the Salmagundi Art Club, kind of an old-world drawing room — cue the aging club-members sipping white wine in the downstairs bar and live pianist playing spooky strains from the ancient baby grand.
Thin belts and Hepburnesque trousers, ankle socks and distorted Mary Janes, brightly colored scarf-turbans and kimonos in flowing silk suggest ladies of another era: well-educated, well-bred, and very well-dressed but distinctly devious and mildly dead. Pale faces, nude lips, and dark eyes finished off the ghostly look those models do so well.
Sure we got a little bit scared (almost no one can call fur-covered oven mitts fashion) but we survived to tell the tale — and to wear it proudly.
Despite the torrential downpour, we couldn't pass up the chance to cozy up to Brit designer Sue Stemp, who set up her girls at the private social club Norwood.
The scene was set with a glamorously refurbished townhouse, brocade chaise lounges, leaded crystal glasses, and plenty of champagne.
It was just like walking into a Parisian salon, what with all of Stemp's femme fatale silhouettes topped with darling, cigarette-girl like headpieces (and more berets!). In true Stemp style, the ruffled, sequined, pleat-heavy models mingled with an equally dapper (if damp) crowd for the good part of the evening. Why wait in lines for a minute of runway peeping when you can make it into a party?
