Oscar de la Renta

While a mini-tornado brewed in the outer boroughs, all was calm on the Upper East Side chez Oscar de la Renta. The arrival of Sarah Jessica Parker created a brief flurry of excitement, but one largely confined to bloggers tweeting furiously into their Blackberries. The venue, a Park Avenue church long the designer’s preferred haunt, lends itself to a certain level of decorum. Quiet reverence, whether a byproduct of one’s surroundings or a nod to de la Renta himself, is a given.

Starting with a flamenco-laced soundtrack that segued, rather strangely, into Gorillaz and later, Jefferson Airplane, the show was a study in flower power. Silk organza blooms were embroidered into a linen skirt suit and trench, while posy and patchwork-print dresses appeared in colors like azalea and peony. Red and green shibori plaids, bled to look almost like tie-dye, were standouts, as were a few of de la Renta’s storied gowns. Our perch just inches from the runway allowed us to get up close and personal—brushed, literally—with a few of them, including our fave, Coco’s little black silk faille and point d’esprit ruffled number.

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