Oh for the good old days of glam! Back when the humble peasantry found a sartorial ugprade on the Left Bank of Paris; dizzying knits became an Italian family affair; adolescent hookers fused cheesy with chic via big hair, bigger hats and tiny little HotPants, at least in the movies, and a newly ascended class of carefree decadents, the B.P., indulged in feverish dancing, among other indiscretions, at Studio 54.

 

The boldly turned out ghosts of those good old days made a gleeful return at Marc Jacobs’ show on Monday night. Jacobs’ set, a huge lampshade-inspired drum in the center of the Lexington Avenue Armory, merited comparison to those erected by the great master of the fashion installation, Karl Lagerfeld. Its inward-arched golden-bronze panels were a visual harbinger of things to come, things that left behind the mama-would-approve conservative chic of Jacobs’ lovely fall classics. “After last season that was, you know, over the rainbow, that was all beige and gray, we decided to go sunny,” the designer deadpanned before his show.

 

Here, Jacobs played to the flamboyant side of his favorite decade. And while his girls’ glittered, Biba-babe eyelids and horizontal hair said runway-only retro, their Jet-set clothes said why should the Seventies have all the fun?

 

The answer: They most decidedly should not – even by day. So bring on the sunset palette and endless prints; the giant flower appendages; the pants, both long and Hot, in shiny pastels (“I love expensive cheap,” Jacobs said, not kidding); the stiffened, belted coats; Marc’s mischievous Missoni moment – mélange pasties with your poorboy, anyone?

 

By night, a girl can rustle randily in color-blocked cottons that riff on silk taffeta and YSL. Or she can work the softer side of seduction, all bare shoulders and flyaway skirts slit to there and then some. And how great would it be, how antiboring, if come Oscar time, some fabulous young actress were to grace the red carpet in a politely naughty sheer, belted chiffon caftan over briefs? Wait a minute. Sure, this is fashion. But let’s not get carried away.

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