“It’s boring,” said Alessandra Rich of her staid cashmere cable-knit skirts, pants, sweaters, and pearl-buttoned cardigans in this strategically demure, very deshabille collection. That knitwear—sported by Rich herself—may indeed have veered to the quiet side, but there was plenty of noise in the marble and mirror-walled apartment the designer secured for this show. At least half the audience were clients, and they seemed to embrace the experience wholeheartedly. They whooped when Caro Daur came out in the prim polka-dot opener; there was a “You go, girl!” when Mary Charteris pounded the marble in a wide-pleated split skirt, bustier, and foulard-print shirt; and the whoops returned as Caroline Vreeland closed proceedings in a black cashmere body whose neckline’s perilous integrity was maintained by four taut Swarovski-set chains. There were seahorse earrings, a nautical-stripe body, a sea-scene jacket, and stud-epaulet blazers to reflect Rich’s vague yacht club theme. She said the pretty, mumsy yellow floral on a ruffle-edged pale blue wrap dress was adapted from something she saw a picture of Princess Margaret wearing.
That prim “boring” girl in pearls was countered by the ruffled Chantilly sheaths, saucy bouclé minis, and some finely cut backless silk gowns in which more chains contributed sterling support work. “Boob overboard!” as one wag offered. Rich’s back-and-forth is knowingly kitsch and Rich’s (rich) clients adore her for it.
