The thing about Adam Lippes’s clothes, what makes them so striking to behold and what look book images cannot show you, are the details. Working in unison with his appropriately classic but deceptively modern shapes, they are a whisper of opulent restraint. No heavy-handed embellishment. No unruly color. And (thank the stars) no prints (they would sully the clothes). For Lippes elegance is, as Chanel said, refusal. What he decides to leave in the garment, what makes the cut so-to-speak, is so perfectly conceived, balanced, and finished that the entire garment emanates a perversely urgent feeling of desire.
One piece that illustrates this best is a simple silk crepe T in alabaster pink. It’s perhaps the most basic piece in all the collection, not anything especially new, yet, the proportion of the stitching along the hem and neckline was so cleverly spaced as to activate an even more flattering proportion with the slope of the sleeve and the width of neck that it could make almost any woman, be she slim or thick, beautiful or homely, young or old immediately look brighter, prettier, shapelier and possibly even smarter once worn. The fabric was so luxuriously lush, the bottom and sleeve hems were so perfectly finished and the cherry on top, the piece de resistance, was the buttonless henley-style placket with a single fringed silk tie looped through the top buttonhole. Lippes makes the mundane so magnificent. What else is luxury good for?
Another moment of micro drama was a row of hook and eye closures set in silk grossgrain on the side vent of a black sweater knit. It is, to the undiscerning eye, a nothing piece. But so beautifully knitted with the finest yarn, so smartly trimmed with the most classic notions, the whole garment is elevated beyond its ordinary functions. Its presence so striking I imagine one could wear it in lieu of an evening dress and very likely be the best dressed of the night. However, Lippes’s actual thoughts for evening are a just as potent. There was a white silk racerback floor length gown with a fringed tassel hanging from one shoulder strap. It had pockets (yes, pockets!) and the most wonderful detail yet: a single French seam running down the complete length of the center back. Is it a construction line he beautified? Is it purely decorative? I didn’t ask and I didn’t care. God was in the details and it was divine.
All the fringe came from inspiration taken from Moroccan textiles, namely carpets. And though this theme was iterated throughout the collection rather tastefully it had its most inventive realization in what was surely the masterwork of the entire collection: a silk tank dress bordered along its low waist by a floor length curtain of plisse silk. Yards upon yards of hand pleated fabric on such a simple silhouette, in most other designer’s hands this would be an abomination with the overwrought manipulated fabric destroying the natural ease and modernity of the base structure. But done by Lippes it is a quiet affair no more bulky or assuming than a slip, that is until the dress is in movement and all the layers of silk release and expand into a glorious flutter worthy of a bird of paradise. I could watch that dress in slow motion with a Philip Glass soundtrack and be very content for a while.
Lippes’s clothes are beautiful and immaculate. His hand loomed silk jacquards, his hand tailored jackets, his plisse gowns; they are the epitome of modern luxury but they are precious almost to a fault. His clothes are so fine that while it is easy to imagine any woman wearing them it was more difficult this time around to see her living in them. Lippes has a hand for luxury and leisure, one that will make this collection a sure hit, but it would have been nice to see clothes that might be improved with a bit of dirt and grime, something sturdier that wouldn’t be so out of place on a subway car. Perhaps I am asking too much, but I’d like to a see a woman dressed by Lippes for all of life’s occasions and I’m sure he would, too.