Dressed as a not-so-retiring wallflower, the camp and colourful display was the perfect match for a collection of equally cartoonish proportions.
There’s a lot of things you can call Cardi B – rapper, actor, fashion obsessive – but wallflower definitely isn’t one of them. All the more ironic, then, that the US megastar was dressed as one as she got up to her usual antics outside Marc Jacobs’ AW24 show. Exiting the New York Public Library after the runway had finished, Cardi was met by a scene she’s well familiar with by now: a bank of fans and paparazzi screaming her name. “Quick pose, Cardi?” barked one of the photographers – and you didn’t have to tell her twice. The star began twirling her pouffy pansy dress about, kicking up her Kiki heels, and even bending over to reveal the length of her canary-coloured knitted stockings. The whole thing was very Carry On Cardi of her, like she was on stage in some campy Broadway production, or taking part in a New York street theatre set piece. “Make sure ya’ll put the good pics up,” she instructed the paps before her security slammed the car door shut. And scene!
Inside the library, minutes before, things had taken a similarly cartoonish tone. After shrinking his collection to miniature proportions last season, Jacobs insisted he’s not done playing with dollies just yet, making an unmistakable return to the fashion figurines of SS24. A swathe of cream clip-on clothes kicked off the show, with dress straps slipping from clavicles and strappy sandals coming in 3 sizes too big. After some lace and sequined gowns appeared on our fashion dolls, a kaleidoscope then took over the collection, with bold block colours covering jackets, skirts, shirts and even one bikini. Disney’s main girl Minnie Mouse was clearly a north star for the collection, her signature polka dots popping up throughout, and her outsize lids and lashes adorning every model’s face. This – paired with the blown-up buttons and pointed toe heels – captured the spirit of a truly cartoonish collection.
As well as Minnie Mouse, though, another famous double M appeared as an avatar. The opening model’s white dress had been hiked up by the wind and moulded to stay there, like Marilyn Monroe frozen in time over that infamous subway grate. At other points, models channelled Monroe in shocking pink gowns and long white opera gloves, but of course shown in the blown-up dollish proportions in line with the rest of the clothes. Monroe’s inclusion in a collection that borrowed so heavily from cartoon imagery was a canny one: just consider the way that living, breathing woman was reduced to a two-dimensional image on a screen, and you’ll get the picture. But despite this knowledge, Jacobs’ latest offering was still a joyful respite, the spoof of a self-serious industry that often crafts its collections without injecting a little fun.
