Twenty-five years. Tommy Hilfiger didn’t use the occasion as anexcuse to prove some kind of high-design point or channel his innerfrustrated rock star (although the soundtrack was pretty great, and heturned out the fanciest front row of the week so far). Instead, hisspring collection was a shiny, happy ode to the genre that made himfamous: preppy. Don’t forget the twist. This time country club clichésprovided the design parameters, resulting in cheeky riffs on proper lawnsport attire. There were shrunken tennis sweaters and eyelet skirts, arugby sweater reworked as a slouchy, sleeveless shell and Top-sidersreimagined as stacked heels. Shrunken blazers and boyfriend shorts camein sparkly tweeds, and minis in grosgrain ribbon. Cable knits, stripesand pleats — if it was preppy, it was part of Tommy’s young, sweet andsales-floor-friendly parade.

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