Proving Their Worth?

Discount Lines Are Upping the Ante For High-End Runway Success

NEW YORK, Sept. 9

It's no longer enough for designers to send a few pretty, high-priced frocks down a runway and expect audiences to take notice, not when they're delivering satisfying doses of fashion to mass merchants for bargain-basement prices. In a desire to expand their audience and improve their bottom line, American designers have inadvertently raised the standard for what impresses on a runway.

The spring 2008 fashion shows began here Wednesday and designers are struggling to make a convincing argument that any of these above-the-knee dresses, wide-leg pants and high-waist shorts are worth the hundreds of dollars or more that they will eventually cost.

Earlier this year, the fast-acting bargain hunter could have gotten a Proenza Schouler frock from Target, where a special collection from the design team was available for a limited time. Badgley Mischka, famous for once-in-a-lifetime red carpet gowns, has a lower-price Platinum line that sells for half of what the signature one does. Vera Wang offers a similar discount with her Lavender collection and has designed an even less expensive line, Simply Vera, for Kohl's. This summer, customers could go to the Gap and buy artful white shirts created by some of the industry's much ballyhooed rising talents, such as Thakoon Panichgul, Doo-Ri Chung and Laura and Kate Mulleavy, who design under the label Rodarte. The signature collections from these designers sell for 10 to 30 times as much as what they delivered to the Gap. So why spend the extra money?

If the garment is not made by hand or lavished with expensive beading, how does it earn its way into a shopper's closet when there are so many less expensive -- and equally enticing -- options? If a designer pencil skirt doesn't come with its own fairy tale, what makes it different from every other run-of-the-mill garment? There have always been those who cast a skeptical eye on the expensive and esoteric merchandise peddled on designer runways, but now the designers themselves are forcing the question.

Designers are spreading themselves thin as they dabble in so many price points. For some, it's a choice -- a matter of more money, more mansions, more expensive vacations. But for the majority, it's a necessity. To finance their flagship business, they have to moonlight or take on special projects. For consumers, this is only good. Fashion designed by the same people whose work hangs in those fancy Madison Avenue boutiques is now readily available at Target, H&M and other mass merchants.

But if so much fashion is trickling down, is there anything jaw-dropping left at the top?

The Adroit Salesman

Not every designer can be Ralph Lauren. This year he celebrates his 40th anniversary in the fashion business, and he marked the occasion by presenting his spring collection in Central Park's Conservatory Garden, following it with a black-tie dinner that had all the breathtaking elegance that only Jay Gatsby himself could conjure. All too often these self-congratulatory events fall flat. They become a misty-eyed display of nostalgia instead of an expression of forward-looking, exuberant optimism. After so many decades in the industry, certainly no one would have faulted Lauren if he wanted to look back and savor his success. But for all of the $75 Polo shirts that Lauren has sold over the years, Saturday night he proved that there is still a lot to be desired at the tippy-tippy-top of his empire.

He sent out an aristocratic collection of womenswear inspired by Ascot, horse-racing and, of course, polo. Fitted jackets with demure peplums topped trim skirts that fell just to the knee. Black leggings created a lean and powerful silhouette when paired with riding jackets and body-conscious shirts. Dresses made from jockey silks and a series of long floral gowns with cascading ruffles added a jolt of color -- lilac, yellow, strawberry pink -- to a palette in which black and white dominated.

It was a collection that simply aspired to be beautiful and rich -- not provocative -- and it did both with easy confidence. There were moments that raised aesthetic doubts, such as jodhpurs sprinkled with glitter, but a designer has earned a right to a bit of costume drama when he has managed to transform his brand from a fashion statement into a cultural one about American aspirations.

Lauren took his bows slowly, walking the full length of the long runway, hugging and kissing everyone along the way. It was fashion's equivalent of a flag-waving victory lap. Then, with a flick of his hand, he signaled for the runway's backdrop to slide away, revealing a lush, terraced garden lit by chandeliers and moonlight. Waiters in white jackets and slicked-back hair, who had been studiously groomed by the company for the occasion, stood holding trays of champagne. A fountain launched a geyser of water into the air. And Lauren's models, in fluttering gowns and dramatic evening hats, stepped from his runway fantasy into a fairy-tale landscape.

By the time the lamb chops had been served and New York's Mayor Michael Bloomberg had toasted Lauren for his philanthropy as well as for all that he symbolizes in American culture, the seduction was complete. Oh yes, one needed a thousand-dollar evening gown and maybe a cocktail dress, too. Lauren still has the ability to romance the Amex card right out of your wallet.