Eschewing the restraint shown by so many designers this season, Zac Posen lined his runway with five pianos and five gorgeously outfitted classical pianists, who provided the austere, yet august, score for his models.
This was a show that elicited gasps, spontaneous applause and even a verboten catcall from the photographers’ pit. The clothes were baroque yet architecturally structured: There were gowns in gold, pastel florals, vibrant purples and reds, the shorter dresses made modern with twinkly hosiery and calf-length sparkly fishnet boots. It was equal parts “Age of Innocence” and ’30s Hollywood glamour, almost demanding a martini and a cigarette to complete the experience.
It would be remiss not to note Posen’s increasing facility with a fishtail train: some sleek and long, some billowy enough to create the illusion that one is not walking but floating. Despite the audacity, this was one of Posen’s most accessible collections, and there was no room or need for modesty: A tuxedo-clad Posen took his curtain call with his pianists, and his expression said what everyone in the room knew — he produced a knock-out.