You could get yourself really worked up at New York fashion week. You could marvel at the models' mile-long legs strutting out from tiny '80s-style mini skirts at Proenza Schouler. Or you could study the beautiful workmanship on a short swingy white Carolina Herrera dress with black lace inserts. Or you could sit front row at Oscar de La Renta and alternately marvel at Roger Federer seated nearby and a crisp white shift dress breezing down the runway on the model Jacquetta Wheeler.
More than a designer, Jacobs is a master of the mood. His runway is no longer just about clothes. Sure, there were plenty of great looks last night-soft, romantic pantaloons worn under over-washed jackets and layered knitsand they will all be studied, photographed and copied endlessly. Yesterday, with Pachelbel's Canon playing on the soundtrack, he gave fashionistas a poignant and gentle lift on a day where many might have easily questioned the industry's place- with all it's superficial implications in the greater global picture. Jacobs' frayed tulle bomber jackets, patchwork laces dresses, oversized glass paste stone embroideries and oddball shoes seemed to remind his fans that even on a dark day, it's OK to love fashion, just don't take it too seriously.