I'll admit, my determination to see a fashion show at the Jewish Museum before departing New York for the season seemed a little off kilter in the context of world events. But it turns out Mood of the moment: Gaby Aghion and the house of Chloé was more about the work of other designers. Aghion, a beautiful, Egyptian-born businesswoman had a feel for comfort, an eye for talent and an innovative marketing vision.
After World War II, Aghion and her husband, a communist born to a wealthy cotton exporter, took refuge in Paris from political repression in their homeland. Within in a decade, she was selling women's luxury clothes off-the-rack or, as she put it first, "prêt-à-porter." Fearing both workplace sexism and the potential embarrassment of failure, Aghion shrewdly chose a feminine-sounding French name instead of her own to brand the new business.
Chloé hired a "shy" young German to design the line in 1963.
Not long afterward my friend JoAnn gave me a risqué wall hanging of a woman with pigtails and bare buttocks, adapted from an illustration Beardsley had done for an edition of Lysistra, a Greek comedy I soon would read in college. Call "Two Athenian Women in Distress," which I finally encountered in full more than 50 years later at the Getty Museum, my introduction to camp.
Designers don't get much campier that Lagerfeld. I rest my case with his sequinned faucet dress.
Illustrator Antonio Lopez took the concept and ran with it.
Later clothes designed by Stella McCartney and Phoebe Philo lacked Lagerfeld's encyclopedic inspiration, although they must have been popular with women for the brand to have lasted as long as it has. Aghion sold the company in 1985. She died in 2014 at the age of 93 which raises this question of the exhibition: why now?
Not long after I saw these evocative drawings, I heard a podcast interview with a Palestinian poet who asserted that female soldiers in the Israeli military had beaten him mercilessly in detention after he tried to cross the border into Egypt despite his American citizenship. Cognitive dissonance appears to be our new reality.
Stumbling upon the work of an unfamiliar Argentine artist came as a relief. Eighty-year old Marta Minujín seems to have done a bit of everything in her lengthy career, including a "corny" partnership with another conceptual artist that seems eerily prescient given the current state of her country's economy.
"Paying Off the Argentine Foreign Debt with Corn, 'the Latin American Gold'"
A few galleries into "A Line of Beauty" I overheard a Met security guard say to a couple of squealing visitors "You're only about a third through.
By the time you reach the end, you'll have tears in your eyes." Well, maybe not tears but definitely a greater willingness to bow down before the creativity and productivity of haute couture fashion emperor Karl Lagerfeld.
If I were a girl with dough, here's how I would have filled my closets over the decades.