To Knee Or Not to Knee?

In Milan, A Revived Debate Over Hemline Lengths

MILAN, Feb. 22 -- For the first time in recent memory, the fashion industry here is engaged in a lively runway debate about hemlines.

The idea is so dusty and retro that one might half expect designers to start in on girdles and millinery at any moment. The thought of anyone bothering to waste precious seconds contemplating such a 1960s topic is laughable. And it only provides more evidence for those stubbornly committed to the notion that fashion is an industry wholly removed from the concerns of average people.

Even for most designers, the question of hemlines had fallen by the wayside. There would occasionally be a resurgence of mini-dresses -- a loving nod to youth, rock-and-roll and the fact that good legs tend to last a lifetime. But mostly, hemlines had settled in at the widely flattering position of just slightly above or below the middle of the knee. Give or take a few inches, there wasn't much to discuss.

But for fall 2008, designers Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana -- long known for their hyper-sexy aesthetic sensibility -- rallied their creative efforts to champion mid-calf skirts. Shocking! Meanwhile Donatella Versace and Gucci's Frida Giannini continue to emphasize the appeal of dresses with hemlines that remain significantly above the knee.

That's more than a difference of a few inches. That's a matter of feet. And that means Dolce and Gabbana have taken aim at a pop culture icon.

For so long, the strong, sexy, powerful woman has been defined in film, television and fashion as someone who strides confidently through life in high heels. Her long legs are bare. Her dress is short.

That traditional image has been the conceit of a multitude of advertising campaigns, from Dolce and Gabbana themselves as well as Versace, which recently featured Madonna as a vamped-up executive. Short skirts and lots of leg defined the aesthetics for everything from "Sex and the City" to the current duo of television shows detailing the lives of high-powered, well-dressed women: "Cashmere Mafia" and "Lipstick Jungle." Everything that modern fashion fairy tales have taught customers is that glamorous power women -- not to be confused with real-life power women -- dress like Wilhelmina Slater, not Betty Suarez.

The designers at Dolce & Gabbana are asking women not to simply lower their hemlines, but to rethink a long-held fantasy about what it means to be powerful and, even more, to dress the part. The Italian design team argued for the longer length in both its signature collection, which was presented Thursday afternoon, as well as in its D&G label, a line aimed at 20-something customers.

In the D&G show, which was earlier in the week, the collection was filled with plaid kilts that sat high on the waist and reached far below the knees. There were argyle sweater sets that were roomy and notably not cropped. The sweaters settled in just at the hips. The trousers were still tight but they didn't sit too low on the hips, and the dresses had full skirts and would look just fine if one happened to be named Laura Ingalls Wilder or Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.

It's not that the clothes are unattractive. The designers inject a significant amount of joyfulness into these frocks, and the lightness of the dresses keeps them from being matronly. They simply seem to be part of a distant past in which all that extra fabric was like a metaphor for women being weighed down, trapped and obscured. Isn't championing such modest, unsexy attire akin to asking women to take a step back? To relinquish some of their sexual freedom? Or is a lot of va-va-voom more of a burden than anything else?

The collection that they showed for their signature label was more luxurious and richer than D&G. That gave the clothes the look of heirlooms rather than costumes. The fur print dresses played tricks on the eye, making one do a double take while wondering how on earth the designers managed to make fur move with such lightness. The skirts and trousers in fine tweeds showed off the designers' considerable tailoring skills as well as their ease in working with a woman's curves.

And it would be hard to resist the metallic cylinder-heeled oxfords in crocodile or python or embroidered with sparkling sequins. They were like candy to the eyes. One glance at them makes a single word pop into one's head: WANT!