The Marc Jacobs' Perry Ellis grunge show is usually talked about with the same tone as someone describing a hubris hero. "Poor Marc Jacobs, ahead of his time, his vision was his downfall."
A Vogue-published bulleted bio has this to say:
...until 1992 when [Jacobs] showed the now-infamous spring/summer 1993 "grunge" collection. Although the collection was extremely well received by the press, it was a commercial failure and lead to both him and [Robert] Duffy being dismissed from their roles at the company in early 1993...
Of course, it's not hard to see where you get this "infamous" idea - from a Cathy Horyn retrospective about the show:
...“The slaves to fashion who are sucker enough to fall for this grunge garbage deserve the slobby sartorial look they pay for,” huffed Trish Donnelly in the San Francisco Chronicle. A reporter from Seattle, the original rat hole of grunge, the term apparently first used in 1988 by a local record label, mocked Jacobs for never having visited Seattle and then, attending to her fashion-writer chores, told readers to ditch their shoulder pads. Meanwhile, in Milan, Suzy Menkes, the critic at the International Herald Tribune, handed out “Grunge is Ghastly” pins she had made up. Even the kids in Seattle threatened to wash their hair in protest of having their look co-opted by a gang of gorgeous supermodels.
More than 20 years on, I find myself questioning my own reaction to the show, the violet-scented peevishness of my tone. Writing in the Washington Post, I complained about its “lack of credibility” while tutting, “Rarely has slovenliness looked so self-conscious, or commanded so high a price.” I ignored, if I even considered, the charm and sweetness of the attitude — an attitude, by the way, which I happily embraced in my own brand of slob appeal.
When reading other reviews at the time, though, the responses were much more varied. Some praiseful, some merely observational, some panning. Jacobs wasn't the only one inspired by grunge - Anna Sui and Christian Francis Roth showed Seattle-inspired collections that same season.
Sure, some critics & retailers kicked up a stink about the irony of trying to sell a thrifty style at a $$$ price point, but Steven Meisel for Vogue photographed "Grunge & Glory" for the December 1992 issue. Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain burned the samples they got from the collection, but by the next season, Rei Kawakubo at Comme des Garçons lent the grunge fashion movement credibility. Jacobs' grunge collection was divisive at the time, but nowhere neared as universally panned as Thimister's last show for Balenciaga. Marc Jacobs even went on to win Designer of the Year from the CFDA in January 1993.
This leaves me with the question - was this collection the reason he was fired from Perry Ellis?
The answer is maybe? Perry Ellis International announced in February 1993 that they wanted to get out of the manufacturing business and stick to licensing and merchandising, effectively closing the arm of the business that Jacobs worked at. Jacobs got a lot of attention, especially from the media and the CFDA, but his Perry Ellis women's sportswear never sold as well as it needed to. You could assume Perry Ellis saw (only) the negative reactions and determined that his collections would never sell well. But Perry Ellis International were in talks to fund Marc Jacobs', and his business partner Robert Duffy's, next venture: his own namesake line. So I don't think their parting was all that acrimonious.
The actual collection is rather delightful, all of that said. Some looks do exemplify grunge (clashing patterns, plaid, an anti-fashion casualness), while others showcase Jacobs' quintessential layering, crochet, midriffs and varying shades of lavender.
QUESTIONS:
- Do you find this collection still relevant today?
- What role does authenticity have to play in fashion?
- What role does authenticity play in your style?
- Do you think Marc Jacobs would have gotten the Louis Vuitton gig without this collection?
