TIME: Almanac 1990/1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso/time/101689/10168900.054

Text File | 1990-09-19 | 3KB | 60 lines

FASHION, Page 92

On the Prowl with Vulgar Chic

In the salons and on the streets, herds of animal prints abound


    It's a jungle out there. On the Via Veneto, across 57th Street
or up Michigan Avenue, animals that look strangely like women are
prancing in herds, and spots swim before the eyes. The designs the
women are wearing are not the real thing, of course, but thick faux
furs and diaphanous fabric in sexy, primitive patterns. And the
customers cannot seem to get enough of them: they're snapping up
zebra-stripe blazers, panther-print pumps, fake tiger coats,
imitation ocelot boleros and giraffe pants. Says a spokesman for
Paris' Dorothee Bis: "It's the theme of the year."

    It's more like a craze, and one that comes as somewhat of a
surprise out on the street. Although couturiers like Yves Saint
Laurent have used animal prints for years in subtle and expensive
ways, jungle patterns, with their hint of sensual mystery and
animal sexuality, have mostly been associated with the showier side
of show biz; the imitable Zsa Zsa, for example, recently turned up
in a Beverly Hills courtroom wearing a vast spotted-print number.
To be sure, it has always been O.K. for mainstream dreamers to be
tigresses in private: catty underwear remains a steady seller. Now,
after a drab decade of swathing for success in somber tones,
slender stripes and severe lines, it seems that women are once
again letting part of it, at least, hang out in pseudo-animal skins
that have a kind of tacky charm -- or, as Bruce Binder, Macy's
Northeast Fashion Director, puts it, "vulgar chic."

    The look has clawed its way to the top for reasons topical and
technological. For one thing, a decade ago fake-fur coats were
lumpy modacrylic numbers that clever designers dismissed as "mama
coats," garments that conservative women bought to keep out the
cold. Now refined techniques allow realistic animal patterns to be
printed on more vibrant and active fabrics, such as Lycra, stretch
velour and even sheer silk mousseline.

    For another thing, the animal-rights movement, having attacked
the fashion industry for its use of real animal skins, has, in
part, boosted the new fad by encouraging designers to play with the
unreal thing in their lines. Designer Christian Lacroix's fringed
panther-print polymid shawl ($470) is hot stuff. Patrick Kelly has
scored with skinny dresses in leopard stretch velvet ($340), and
even purist Giorgio Armani uses mock lynx for a duffle coat in the
Emporio Armani line ($685). After dark, the more the merrier seems
to be the rule. Says Annie Allanche, a manager at Paris' Irie
boutique: "Women are mixing leopard, tiger, giraffe and ocelot for
evening."

    Accessories in spots and stripes are big items as well.
Marshall Field's in Chicago has a ponytail garter ($8) and a
leopard-spotted headband ($10). At New York City's Saks Fifth
Avenue a cheetah chiffon bow ($25 to $45) and a jaguar belt ($165)
are moving well. Kids can get jungle-cat skirts ($30) and flannel
dresses ($55) at Henri Bendel in Manhattan.

    Still, some clothiers are pussyfooting around the trend. In
what may be a new high (or low) in fashion irony, Milan's
Gianfranco Ferre is selling a real rabbit fur jacket for about
$2,700. But it has been printed to look like leopard. It's hard for
some of these cats to change their spots.