"On a Sea of Tranquillity" . . . I don't care for the writer's tone at all... A bit snarky...
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/19/fashion/boutique-features-bottega-veneta-resort-line.html?_r=1&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1326934921-CE1HvKQfAIeO0k9FUZm87A
By ALEXANDRA JACOBS
Published: January 18, 2012
THE fashion industry’s concept of a cruise season has long amused and confused me. Also known as resort, a term that might gain momentum following the deadly crash of the Costa Concordia, it’s a small, lightweight collection of clothes marketed at people who can afford long jaunts to the tropics when the rest of us are trudging through sludge and applying extra lashings of bronzer to our ghastly January pallor. It blithely ignores what the great wobbly mass of American humanity tends to wear while traveling — e.g., velour tracksuits and Disney mouse ears.
The Italian brand Bottega Veneta is relatively new to this enterprise, being better known for woven leather goods in various shades of wilted mushroom than pops of color on the poop deck. But under the stewardship of Tomas Maier, a Teuton known for his exacting standards, it has dutifully been churning out cruise lines since 2008. The most recent one is on prominent display at a Madison Avenue boutique that opened last fall: a small but significant advance for these retail Axis powers (who also own a Fifth Avenue flagship) toward total — but tasteful — global domination.
The new store is on the former site of Sonia Rykiel, on whose men’s wear line the versatile Mr. Maier worked in the 1990s, but it has diligently exorcised all vestiges of Mme. Rykiel’s kooky, stripe-besotted Frenchness. Flower arrangements are stark and white, carpets are beige and buttery, and walls are padded in suede, ensuring a sepulchral hush even when the soundtrack “Intreccio Uno,” a selection of melancholy electronica named for the house’s signature weave, is playing. (It’s $45 and available at the cash register — a tad Starbucks, no?)
A new perfume wafts discreet, unisex notes of leather and Earl Grey tea. “It’s almost ... savory,” said a sober clerk in pullover and tailored slacks presiding over a near-empty floor on a recent rainy evening.
Bottega’s base line is purses. (It also lucratively purveys pieces of purses, a k a small leather goods, like a knotted key ring, $250.) Mr. Maier has been lauded in particular for creating the Cabat, a slouchy intreccio tote whose appeal, to a neurotic urban dweller eager for structure, is somewhat mystifying. To me it’s always looked, no insult intended, like a marked-down beach bag picked up in the seasonal-items aisle of Target.
But maybe that’s intentional, since the ideal Bottega client, while necessarily loaded, has always been an inconspicuous consumer, the polar opposite of the prima donna lugging Louis Vuitton monogrammed trunks. One doesn’t picture Ms. B.V. sunbathing nude, but rather under a beach umbrella, slathered in Anthelios XL and pecking anxiously at her BlackBerry.
It therefore felt unsettling to see a close relative of the Cabat, the Lido, available here in a hot-pink hue called Shock, perhaps a tribute to Schiaparelli, and shocking indeed at $6,850. For dinner at the captain’s table, meanwhile, there’s the Memory, a Judith Leiber-like minaudière ($2,320) with a complicated clasp that the saleswoman, Nichole Callaghan, kindly helped me solve.
LIKE practically every other high-end designer, Mr. Maier is currently color-blocking more than a kindergartner on Ritalin. He has also designed some vivid shifts with petals affixed to the hips for minimalists who want to flutter in the breeze. But Roy G. Biv is not exactly his friend. “Bottega Veneta’s Cruise collection offers the muted, neutral tones that are certain to inspire you,” the company’s Web site says reassuringly.
This is not to say the label is a bastion of conservatism; light bondage seems a current inspiration. A khaki jacket grabbed me when I veered too close to the fastenings of its orthopedic-support-like belt. One otherwise drab bustier from the runway had coral-colored circles right where the nipples should be. Costume jewelry seems to spookily invoke Georges Bataille’s “Story of the Eye.” A paper-bag-colored dress had lacing up the back in the manner of a Mainbocher corset ($2,000).
With this frisky frock over her arm, Ms. Callaghan led me to a large, pale-wood office cabinet that, when she slid open the door, turned out to be a generously proportioned dressing chamber. Having noticed that I had admired a pair of nero and fire platform wedge heels that were out of stock in my size, she brought over a pair printed with pale cherry blossoms ($820) instead.
“They’re kind of Oriental,” she said as I strapped them on, and for an instant I was transported to some enchanted, if clodhopping, evening on a Polynesian pleasure boat.
The dress, sadly, draped like a shower curtain, but Ms. Callaghan was gracious in her assessment.
“Eugene, take a look at this,” she hollered, flinging open the cabinet.
Her bespectacled colleague gave me a once-over. If there was pity behind his tortoiseshell glasses, it was visible only for a nanosecond. “That’s grrreat,” he said. Welcome to cruise, controlled.
Bottega Veneta
849 Madison Avenue, (212) 879-4182; bottegaveneta.com.
BRAIDED The Italian house known for its woven leather goods has expanded to ready-to-wear, including a resort line, under its veteran designer Tomas Maier.
INFLATED Prices might induce a touch of mal de mer, with handbags and dresses in the four figures. The signature perfume is available in shower gel for $40.
UNDERSTATED Despite some forays into bright color for winter vacation season, calm neutrals continue to prevail here, and the service is supportive and encouraging to match.
