Park Avenue glamour-pusses of the 1970s with their younger male lovers. Here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson, for inspiring the Marc by Marc Jacobs show, which opened with girls in wide-legged, high-waisted tweed trousers paired with satin and fur, plus one boy in a collegiate-looking full tweed suit. For every lady in leopard-print satin, fancy hat or belted winter coat, there was a young man in sweater and trou, or suit and sneakers. And as the show progressed, the boy seemed to grow up. Three-piece suits with lurex vests, velvet blazers and pocket squares appeared, marking the transition from student to kept man. It looked a lark.
When it was done, the crowd rushed the catwalk in an attempt to gain access to the man of the hour. But the backstage was closed, said security. No interviews allowed. A moment later, Marc Jacobs appeared, walking swiftly toward the exit. It proved exactly why he’s on top. There’s nothing on this planet cooler than being the first person to leave your own party.