Ralph Lauren Fashion News

Some women are addicted to shoes, collecting them like precious art. Others hoard perfume bottles. Lynne Hiriak has a passion for cardigans, with more than 100 variations of the ladylike basic in her closet.

So it made perfect sense this fall when the knitwear designer who has worked for Ralph Lauren and Derek Lam launched a label, Cardigan, that makes nothing else. The sartorial staple rose to fame in the 1950s and has since been beloved by dads, golfers and college profs, not to mention the late Mr. Rogers, who was a spokesman of sorts for the lowly button-front sweater.

For women, the cardigan is one-half of the prim 'n' preppy twin set — a lightweight addition to any outfit and an easy way to polish any look.

"Cardigans are seasonless key items that all women wear unconsciously," Hiriak says.



There are many more affordable styles to choose from. A cardigan is also a noncommittal way to wear color — you'll still be dressed if you decide to shed the hue.

Whether it's hanging in your closet or draped across the back of your office chair, the cardigan is that go-to staple that you can't avoid. Make it count.

Imagine a very glamorous female James Bond who needs to pack something for trekking through the desert, then change for black-tie nights in Dubai.

She'll sneak into the Ralph Lauren store - using an alias, of course - to shop for spring.

There was something fitting about the fact that on the wrap day of Fashion Week. Fluid silks and satins were draped across, around and over models' bodies to create slinky dresses and goddess-like evening gowns.

To anchor these flyaway slips of shimmering fabric, Karan embroidered sea glass, mirrored panels and metallic chain links at the hip, neck or across the hem of a wrap skirt.

Jackets came elongated and had an easy swing - a seductive alternative to the boxy, boy-cut variations on display throughout the week.

Just before the start of Ralph Lauren’s 40th anniversary show, as guests like Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg, Police Commissioner Raymond W. Kelly and the actors Robert DeNiro and Dustin Hoffman took their seats, there was music from “My Fair Lady.” A tug of Broadway, and then the show began, the music shifting to a faster contemporary beat as the first model stepped out in a white silk gown with a frilly black-edged hem and a wide black straw hat. Masculine coats, satin jodhpurs, trim vests and long polka-dot skirts with romantic white blouses seemed to animate the racecourse painting in the background.

The show, on Saturday night in the Central Park Conservatory Garden, was a vigorous display of Mr. Lauren’s imagination and wit, from the veiled bowlers and snow-white riding boots tipped in black to the long ruffled dresses in pastel garden prints, and the only location that might have better served his purposes than the park would have been Fifth Avenue itself. The clothes, while far from being costumes, had the pomp of an aristocratic parade.

Mr. Lauren could have gone in any number of design directions to mark his 40th anniversary. To Newport, the American West, the Adirondacks. Instead he chose New York, reflecting its energy and sophistication with crisp tailoring, a black leather coat banded in taxi-bright yellow, and a silver chain-beaded gown as cosmopolitan as the Chrysler building.