“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” one girl cried out by the tent after the Zac Posen show. “It’s him!” exclaimed another. “It’s … the designer!” Then we saw Zac Posen, looking great in a gray suit and gray fedora, run past us in a bubble of black-suited publicists and security guards — only to stop, say hello, and give us a kiss. We whipped out our tape recorder as a crush of bodies enveloped us. “It was a GREAT show, wasn’t it?” he asked, beaming. “It was about form,” he said, seeming eager to explain his vision to the audience that had gathered round. “We were creating the form of our ideal body onto the models, which had hips and ass and floating construction shapes on top. We made very sculptural shapes using the softest fabrics possible. It’s desirability, lightness … lipstick leopard!” (We love designer speak.)
Had everything gone according to plan? We sensed some influence from all the trips he’d been taking to Australia, Java, and Bali. Were we right? “Yeah, I’ve been traveling a lot,” he said. “I’m interested in people who create their own ethnicity. And their own creation.” Then, sensing his pulpit, he turned away from us and to the considerable crowd that had formed to listen in on our interview. “I mean, you all should be dressing way more,” he shouted, laughing and gesturing in all directions. “You should really, you know, be building who you think you are instead of worrying about whatever anyone else thinks about what you’re doing or looking like.” He gave a nod to indicate he was done; the crowd burst into applause. With that, he turned and power-walked to his limo.