Marc Jacobs — once hailed as the savior of New York fashion, the mastermind behind Louis Vuitton’s resurgence, and a designer who proved American talent could rival Parisian haute couture — hasn’t created truly wearable clothing, at least for everyday life, in approximately five years. This hiatus began when the pandemic brought the traditional fashion show system to a halt.
Instead, his recent work has leaned heavily into high-concept constructions, featuring exaggerated shapes and unconventional proportions. These designs often evoked the whimsicality of paper dolls, Alice in Wonderland, or distorted Victoriana, treating dressing more as performance art or a philosophical exercise than practical attire for daily wear.
His collections were typically presented before the official start of New York Fashion Week, to an appreciative hometown audience who regard Mr. Jacobs as a national treasure. These exclusive pieces were sold solely at Bergdorf Goodman. Over the past few years, this approach increasingly felt like an exercise in self-indulgence, rather than a genuine engagement with potential customers.
Thus, it came as quite a surprise on Monday evening to attend the Marc Jacobs show and discover… tweed pencil skirts and impeccably tailored trouser suits. There were classic V-neck sweaters, a proper car coat or two, sparkling sequined tube tops, daring micro-miniskirts, elegant blouses with front ruffles, and even a timeless slip dress.
Naturally, he didn’t entirely abandon his signature playful twists. The pencil skirts, for instance, were cut straight across the hips, creating a slight outward flare rather than conforming to the body’s natural curves, allowing models to slip their hands inside these suggestively pocket-like structures.
The miniskirts were hiked significantly above the natural waistline, giving them the appearance of misplaced obis rather than conventional skirts. Some pencil skirts were crafted from sheer fabric, offering glimpses of the shirts worn underneath. And in a clever detail, two coats were neatly fastened up the back.
The collection clearly paid homage to influential figures like Prada, Helmut Lang, and Yves Saint Laurent. Mr. Jacobs even playfully acknowledged these inspirations in his show notes with the line “credits and receipts.” A delightful and self-aware touch.
However, the most prominent references were to his own illustrious past: to Perry Ellis, where a young Mr. Jacobs famously designed a haute grunge collection for spring 1993, which simultaneously propelled him to fame and resulted in his dismissal. He also drew from his Fall 1995 and Spring 1998 collections, and even a Marc by Marc Jacobs collection from 2003, a line that predated his hugely successful contemporary brand, Heaven by Marc Jacobs.
This retrospective served as a potent reminder of Mr. Jacobs’ profound influence. More than any other designer in New York, he possessed an extraordinary ability to sense the prevailing social and cultural currents and translate them into a distinctive way of dressing. This innate talent, rather than any particular silhouette or style, was the defining hallmark of his work, imbuing him and those who wore his designs with a palpable connection to the moment, whatever that moment might be.
It’s precisely why his shows were always major cultural events and why he had the power to transform celebrities from merely ‘naff’ to undeniably ‘cool’ simply by welcoming them into his world. Think of Victoria Beckham, Miley Cyrus, and Kendall Jenner, all of whom received the coveted ‘Marc glow-up’.
Yet, he no longer occupies that central, trendsetting position in fashion; he deliberately stepped away from it. Perhaps he disagreed with the industry’s evolving direction, or simply grew weary. Maybe his own creative vision became more captivating than catering to external demands. Nevertheless, a void remains where his influence once dominated, and it’s difficult not to wish he would commit more fully to re-engaging with the broader fashion landscape, rather than offering what feels like a quasi-retrospective. This seems an unlikely prospect.
In his show notes, the designer offered a brief yet profound meditation on themes of “memory” and “loss,” posing fundamental questions about “who we are, what we create, what we leave behind and what we carry forward.”
LVMH, the French luxury conglomerate that owns the Marc Jacobs label, has been actively seeking to sell it. Recent negotiations with Authentic Brands Group, the licensing giant behind Reebok, Juicy Couture, and Frederick’s of Hollywood, ultimately fell through. For now, the label remains under the LVMH umbrella, but its long-term future is uncertain. Such circumstances are undoubtedly prompting any designer to reflect deeply on their legacy.
At the far end of the Park Avenue Armory, where the show was held, a metal folding table surrounded by four chairs bore a small, striking oil painting. This piece, commissioned just a week prior from artist Anna Weyant, depicted a single daisy—the namesake of Mr. Jacobs’ most successful perfume—with half of its petals carefully plucked and meticulously pinned to the canvas. A potent symbol, perhaps, of something preserved for eternity, or, conversely, destined to wither and die, depending entirely on one’s perspective.