The Worlds of Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein

The guests at Ralph Lauren this morning came dressed in honor of the designer and his best-of seasons. To my right: a woman in a Mandarin-collared blouse, to her left, a hacking blazer worn over black lace. On the floor (before it became a runway) was a woman in an Arizona blanket knit talking to a duo — one in a bell-sleeved old-West dress, the other in Americana double-denim.

Together, on mirrored sets of four long rows sat a world of Ralph waiting for the show to begin.

This season’s world was a five star safari. (Cotton cargo pants were the first indication.) Then came the color — a purple vest, a yellow coat, pink trousers, an orange jacket, and everything was grounded in a deep shade of sage. Jewels starting high on the neck dripped down some of the models’ chests, picking up the color of the fabrics in the collection. It was all very glamorous, rooted in a sense of adventure. Elizabeth Taylor as National Velvet came to mind (but only for a second, and only because of the baggy-thighed breeches), while the rest of it was Amelia Earhart meets Lauren Hutton meets satin, and at its core, undeniably Ralph Lauren.

This is a man who designs for his customer: she is self-assured, confident, and knows the styles that suit her. She’ll take one look at the crushed green velvet jacket that appears camouflage-printed under shadowed lighting and say, “Yes.” She might look at the khaki pieces and realize she owns something similar…but that this is better. She will not be one to shy away from drama, and when asked what she’s wearing to an upcoming formal event you won’t blink twice when she tells you, “A gown that looks like a flight suit with pockets, rolled sleeves, a zipper up the middle and one enormous taffeta train.”

Later, in Calvin Klein’s world — the one imagined by Francisco Costa — minimalism came back to the house that put this concept on the clothing map. Fall was a departure from clean lines (erring closer to 90s grunge than the brand’s famous 90s sheaths, and there was more chunk: thick sweaters, thick boots, thick coats, thick shapes). This Spring, Costa streamlined the collection, and despite Klein not being the current designer’s last name, his 31 looks were very Calvin.

The show opened with a slow, pulsing beat. Even louder was the rushing of camera clicks and somehow not the models’ black platformed shoes with plexiglass heels. (The thick-soled shoes were the only heavy thing about this collection.)

When the women made their sharp left turns and headed back toward the panel that separated backstage from us, racer backs carved the fabric between shoulder blades on narrow dresses. Where belts have been secured at the waist at almost every other show so far, at Calvin they sat just one or two inches higher, so that while a woman’s curves weren’t forgotten, they were given a chance to remain ever so ambiguous.

It was, to borrow Calvin’s own word, modern.

The palette was kept simple in silver, blood red, white and navy. But “simple” isn’t easy. Done poorly, “simple” can be boring. This entire collection was a kind of simplicity that can be appreciated from far away, but that the eye will still squint in to catch the fine detailing of micro-meshing, tiny leather perforations, and a fringed tinsel hem on the most beautiful tunic (which you can see squint-free in the slideshow above, worn by Ms. Hanne Gaby Odiele).

“Futuristic” feels like a cliché word to use here…so if anything, let’s call this collection: what’s next.

Images via Style.com