The window displays of the shops located on Madison Avenue, between 86th Street and 59th St. in New York City could tell us as much about today’s culture as the fashions portrayed in the artwork in the Metropolitan Museum can about ancient Egypt or 19th-century France.
A visit to the Met in late February brought me to the neighborhood, and I thought, why not walk down Madison and see what’s going on?
What I saw shocked and disturbed me.
The clothes looked unwearable on Earth. A pouty and leggy mannequin may be outfitted with a feather headpiece or a fur-wrapped sequin bra. She might also wear ripped jeans, chunky construction booties, and a sequin-covered bra. What time of year, and which time zone, could you wear this outfit? What were the designers—actually the managers, buyers, window-dressers, and salespeople—trying to say?
Clearly, Upper East Side took a hit in the early stages of the pandemic, as did most shopping centers. There were empty shops, a few boarded-up windows, and many “For Lease” signs. Was the message something like, “Up yours, loyal customers, for abandoning us, for shopping online?” I wondered if there had been the expectation that very wealthy people wouldn’t curtail their spending. The 30 blocks were not only full of clothing and shoes but also jewelry, watches, luxury bedding, lingerie, antiques and art. There was also the lockdown. It seemed that the survivors were the largest brands, with branches around the globe. The employees were probably scared for their jobs.
Curious about the state of high fashion, I recently returned to 79th and Madison with the intention of taking pictures and—because the designers themselves rarely set foot in their namesake shops—speaking with salespeople about why the clothes in early spring 2023 were so unwearable.
It was all different. All was different. Isn’t change the nature and essence of fashion?
What is the best way to get in touch with you? You can learn more about it here on display? The windows displayed outfits for golf courses, tennis courts, yachts, drinks in the gardens, trips to Europe and spring and summer weddings. They also featured clothes for parties, more parties, and even trips to Europe. Okay, we had our fun, the windows seemed to be saying, but we’re here for you and we know what you need to wear, wherever you are going. Ralph Lauren, who practically owns the corner of 72nd and Madison, was showing the world that he’ll have the whole family classically attired in bright polo shirts. Michael Kors was all red, plunging necklines and sequins. Nothing too racy, though, for the country club.
The displays that most captured my attention were designed for people who know where they’re going and want to make a provocative statement when they’re there.
This Intermix dress would be appropriate at which tennis club? Perhaps it’s meant for a private court in the Hamptons.
If you’re the kind of man who holds informal meetings at the Polo Lounge, this Missoni outfit could be an interesting choice.
In Zimmermann I imagined myself wearing a sequin-encrusted midi skirt.
At Oscar de la Renta, trapeze dresses. I haven’t forgotten their first appearance in the ‘60s. But not like this.
Inside, there were dozens of equally ornate short dresses, embroidered, embellished, appliquéd. After I told the sales associate that I would be doing a fashion feature for an online design publication, she allowed me to take pictures and re-arrange the clothing on the rack. One of her co-workers threatened to contact the manager as she was explaining how each Oscar de la Renta butterflies is sewn on the $9290 dress. I quickly left the store, blending in with the window-shoppers along the street that was becoming increasingly busy, as signs for reopenings and tenants moved in were everywhere. The whole story can be found on their website.
Dolce and gabbana was my happy place. In a black satin D&G bra and with a red Logo Bag, would I look as smokin’ as Kylie Jenner?
Inside, a young man named Nelson explained the black and silver color story: “Right now, everyone wants to shine and celebrate, to sparkle from head to toe.”
“This is the “Re-edition Collection,” Nelson continued. “Each garment is labeled with the year it debuted.” Such as this $595 white cotton tank from 1994. Would a $12 tank by Target or Uniqlo give me the same effect? After all, women of my generation were taught never to show their bra straps and to always ensure labels are tucked into the clothing before leaving home.
“And is this for the boudoir?” I ventured, pointing at a see-through slip from 1995. Nelson looked surprised. “No, it’s also for the street.” Of course, outside a late-night club on the Lower East Side.
Ah, the sculpture of the body. You are not inside a museum viewing someone else’s art— even Karl Lagerfeld’s at the Met. You are an artwork to be draped over in diaphanous material, with your perfect body glistening beneath.
Brunello Cucinelli was my next stop. It occupies an entire block between 62nd & 61st. The staff was very friendly and offered me a seat at their bar, a cup of cappuccino and some biscotti. They also let me browse through a book on the history of the Cucinelli company and family. “We are all about neutrals. Every design is influenced by nature, by plants, the earth, texture,” the buyer told me. “As one of the most innovative, fashionable global knitwear companies, we focus on wardrobing clients for all occasions.”
I admit to being taken by the sweaters. Especially a beige vest with a subtle pattern of tiny sequins. If it’s $200 or less, I’ll buy it as a special treat, I told myself. It was worth $2000. Well, that’s all right. The next day, I attended an event at The Society of Illustrators where illustrators and graphic designers were eager to get together after what felt like a very lengthy drought of events in person. Everyone was not wearing a satin black bra, see-through dresses, or even $2000 vests. Everyone seemed comfortable with their own skin.