Waiting to get into the Marc Jacobs show at the Armory was like lining up for the new Star Wars, except with fashionistas instead of geeks.
But the wait — and the attendant fear that we were all about to be killed in the unholy, disorganized crush of humanity — was worth it, because this was the premier celeb-spotting event of our lives. It was so crowded with bold-faced names that designer Stella McCartney was relegated to the second row. We saw everyone you’ve ever read about in US Weekly: M.J. regulars like Winona Ryder, Sofia Coppola, and the grody Vincent Gallo; country crooner LeAnn Rimes; starlet (and possessor of great hair but questionable fashion sense) Mischa Barton; Demi and Ashton; Posh Spice (some call her “Victoria Beckham,” but she’ll always be a Spice Girl to us); recent U.S. Open winner Maria Sharapova; and a man we thought was gruff Law & Order D.A. Sam Waterston but who actually turned out to be Dermot Mulroney. Dermot, take note: You’re dreamy, but maybe it’s time to pay a visit to our friend Miss Clairol.
As for us, we were jammed up in standing room only, with a cute girl who claimed to have a friend who was one of Marc’s designers. We got the scoop from her while we waited for the show to start: According to our source, none of the clothes were even in the building at 8:15 (the show was scheduled to begin at 8 p.m.), and one dress in particular was being stitched right up until the very end. Maybe that’s why the show started so late: They were still finishing that one pesky piece.
And it did start late, of course, which we hear is de rigueur for Mr. Jacobs. And while “late” is one thing, it’s something else entirely, don’t you think, when — presumably to kill time — Jared Leto gets out of his seat and starts entertaining the bleachers in his section by randomly tossing items out of his pocket to showgoers. If they’re smart, the recipients of his generosity will unload that lint and spare change to crazed Jordan Catalano fans on eBay for big money. And speaking of Jared Leto, he’s looking totally manorexic these days. We know he got all fat for that movie about Mark David Chapman and he had to get back to fighting weight, but he needs to remember that, as far as men go, chunky is hunky. Also, eyeliner is something to be used in moderation.
When the show did begin, we were a bit flummoxed: The atmosphere Jacobs created though sets and music was breathtaking, but the clothes were almost totally unwearable as far as daily life is concerned. Which, to an extent, we understand: High fashion can be pretty conceptual. That’s part of the appeal. But we just know that one of the celebrities present is eventually going to show up somewhere in one of Jacobs’s sets of (we can barely even bring ourselves to type these words) billowing genie pants, or, even worse, in his pair of what looked like capris crossed with Hammer pants. We’re all for clothing as high art, but suggesting to that highly impressionable crowd that Hammer pants are ever a good idea, even if you happen to actually be MC Hammer, is practically criminal.