Talk to Me, Lou

Lou Reed hangs a photo show, and other tales of Fashion Week

There was plenty of stoppin' but not much poppin'—at least not initially—at Marc Jacobs's show. Though it was scheduled to begin at nine, invitees were informed at the door that the show had been postponed till 11 and they should go have a drink or something. The delay was rumored to be due to the late arrival of the clothes (like Marc didn't know six months ago this show was coming up?), but I have my own theory: I think Jacobs likes to keep everyone waiting because it makes his show seem like a rock concert.

After all, Marc, who is a recent graduate of rehab and is sporting an impressively lithe physique, has to have a little fun: When you're not getting high and you have a ton of responsibilities—which include not just running your own business, but also being creative head of the august Louis Vuitton—maybe you've got to do something a little irresponsible to feel young and cheer yourself up. And, of course, Jacobs has always studded his front row with rockers; past guests have included Madonna, P. Diddy, Debbie Harry, and Lil Kim enjoying one last bash before she went to jail. This season, Courtney Love—now so thin she's a ringer for Ashley Olson—waited with the rest of the crowd, who were, despite their griping, as excited as 14-year-old Beatlemaniacs.

It wasn't a rock group that finally emerged a little after 11 (early by nightclub standards) but a parade of models in deconstructed dresses, which means a lot of chiffon underpinnings and highly visible bra straps. It was fresh and sexy but also vaguely nostalgic, like the sort of thing an addled trannie might have concocted for a night on the town back in the day when Marc hung out at Jackie 60 in the meatpacking district, long before Stella and Jeffrey colonized the neighborhood.

Lou reed hangs Bryan Adams’s photo of Pink.
Bryan Adams
Lou reed hangs Bryan Adams’s photo of Pink.

Marc's new frocks were, in fact, perfect for Warhol glamour girl Candy Darling (born James Slattery), who died in 1979, and whom Lou Reed—Lou, you're everywhere!—once described thusly, capturing the spirit of that lost world:

Candy came from out on the island
In the backroom she was everybody's darling
But she never lost her head
Even when she was giving head
She says, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
Said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side.
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