The Stealth Wealth Brand Crisis

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Fashion week attendees say “thank you” in a specific way after they ask someone to take their picture. Less “thanks” and more “theeeenks!” Delivered with a smile, a tiny shrug of the shoulders, it’s a little show of modesty in a deeply immodest setting.

The whole NYFW spectacle is so not-modest that many of the stealth wealth brands are not even stealth anymore. Looking at their collections, I wondered if some are having identity crises. Frankly, you could call many of the clothes on the runways Lauren Sánchez-core.

I spent as much of my weekend as possible checking out shows and events, starting with Jenni Kayne’s Friday presentation in her Soho store. Kayne brilliantly evolved her collection of popular sweaters and easy midi skirts with vivid shades of tomato red and grass green — bright, yet still earthy. She served mini seaweed tartlets filled with chopped up shrimp cocktail, some with caviar, arranged on a table of moss and accented with cherry tomatoes on the vine. It was basically an art installation and almost no one touched it.

At the bar, I ordered one of the night’s signature cocktails — a skinny spicy margarita — from a tall bartender who revealed that when he’s not doing this, he works on his own jewelry line, Aethera. Aethera’s website says it’s not “just a brand—it’s a reminder: be your own star!”

You could say the same about fashion week, a place where nearly everyone acts famous and almost no one is. You only have to ask a stranger to take your picture if you’re not one of the many people who seem have someone following their every move with a camera, staging photo shoots all over the city like this is as normal scrolling a phone.

Kayne, however, brought in bona fide stars, like a denim-jacketed Will Arnett and fully silver sequined Rachel Zoe. I asked Zoe if she’d seen the upcoming Real Housewives of Beverly Hills season she stars in, and she told me she has no plans to watch it (makes one of us). Martha Stewart also came by, carrying what looked like a cell phone on a leather purse strap. Later that night at the Alexander Wang show, Stewart ditched the purse-phone and methodically posed holding one of the brand’s bags up by her face. (Saks has a small version of it on sale if you’re feeling nostalgic for this style.)

Wang’s show included brown faux fur mini skirts; muffs that looked like puffy jackets; and neck braces in that same style. Typical Wang fare of tight black dresses and skirts was not in short supply — but he wasn’t the only designer who seemed to be trying to meet the moment of tacky we now find ourselves in. A fully silver studded hooded poncho? Sure, anything to distract from the horrors of 2025.

The next afternoon, Target held a tailgate, replete with trucks filled with buckets of pickles, piles of fried chicken, and multiple butter towers. What was Target selling? I don’t really know. Beauty products were both handed out on trays and elaborately displayed like Gilded Age jewelry at the Met.

I stopped by the Veronica Beard showroom to see their spring collection where I did note a terrific pair of embellished jeans. I was wearing statement Rachel Comey denim myself (YOLO). I noticed novelty jeans on show attendees all weekend — jeans with cutouts, beads, sparkles, etc. Basically, anything goes at fashion week as long as it’s shouting OUTFIT, versus merely clothing a body.

This was abundantly true at the Alice + Olivia presentation at Surrogate’s Court, an actual court that normally does things like will probation and estate administration. After submitting to a bag scan and metal detector, attendees stuffed into a floral tunnel before entering a two-story venue, where, if you looked up, you noticed that you had just walked through a model’s dress.

Waiters passed donut (not cake) pops, affixed with little QR codes. Everything is marketing.

Bendet told reporters the show was inspired by America’s upcoming 250th anniversary in 2026. This certainly is an interesting time to make your apolitical fashion show about America, surely multiple people thought. But Bendet made sure to drown those thoughts out with beautiful sparkly floral dresses and pantsuits and, of course, the two-story gown. One corner of the display had sculptures of fast food, including a giant soda, chicken nuggets, a burger, and fries. A model posed seductively against the soda, giving guests the same idea.

On my way out, I saw people walking onto the final tableau of models posing with denim busts for photo ops. Bendet does cultivate a party atmosphere at her presentations, but this would be like if, during a runway show, people got up from their chairs and had their friends take their picture with the models.

Uptown, I bumped into fashion legend Amy Fine Collins, editing her copy with paper and pen in a gyro joint like an absolute boss since we had about half an hour to kill before Prabal Gurung.

A block over at St. Bartholomew’s church, Gurung set his show to a live choir. I liked how he used elegant older models instead of only early twentysomethings. I also liked the look including a black feathered top and white feathered skirt. In general, we are seeing a lot of feathers for spring 2026. Maybe designers know they can sell us the idea of just flying away from here.

Back downtown, the Cynthia Rowley show was staged in Robert F. Wagner Park overlooking the Statue of Liberty. Though a huge crowd of influencer types in heels and cocktail dresses had been held to fill in the seats and watch from the standing area, there also seemed to be normal people with their babies and dogs in the park, like this was a regular ass day. They got to see the show without a ticket or waiting in line in stilettos.

Rowley had hired boats with “Cynthia Rowley” on their sails to go in circles in the Hudson behind her runway. It was creative and fun and inspired an excess of photo-taking. Who needs a clear view of Lady Liberty? Dance music was thumping. Everything is marketing.

Everywhere I went, people seemed to talk about how they didn’t understand Veronica Leoni’s second Calvin Klein Collection show at all. At first glance, I thought it was better than her debut — the apron dresses were cute, the finale slate blue trench was perfectly wearable and nice — but I’ve revised my position. The logo sunglasses that seemed to harken underwear were, along with the lumpy gray dresses, utterly perplexing.

I also heard people talk about how Khaite suffered from a lack of editing. Designer Catherine Holstein has built a powerful brand and following, and is wisely embracing the whole “leopard is a neutral” thing in our tacky times. But how to explain the purposeful bulk sewn into her cocktail dresses, sheer blouse adorned with black poufs, and chunky polka dot maxi skirts with asymmetrical pleats?

Earlier in Back Row:

The next day, I headed to Queens to see Monse (pronounced mon-SAY). I’m a big Monse fan. That Monse look Michelle Obama wore to the DNC lives rent-free in my head. (You can still buy it – someone buy it. Report back in the chat.)

Monse was celebrating their tenth anniversary with a show in an art and fashion storage space called UOVO, where four rooms were decorated with art from owner Steve Guttman’s collection. Here, influencers in brown cocktail attire and sparkly Monse dresses mingled with lantern flies as we waited for the rehearsal to wrap up. I met the lovely actress Genesis Rodriguez, who was wearing sky-high Saint Laurent stilettos and a brown mini dress, who kept getting asked to pose for photos. She confessed that her shoes were not comfortable but we agreed they were beautiful.

Inside, guests like Nicky Rothschild were offered cocktails that were like old fashions with banana instead of orange flavoring. This being a storage facility, there was no red carpet or step-and-repeat, but VIPs gamely posed with crates and roll-up metal doors.

The collection harkened vacation, and featured the deconstructed tailoring the brand is known for. You probably couldn’t sit comfortably in the two standout mini-skirts made from strands of sparkles and pearls, but the models were styled in flats so it’s not like they’d need to. A white noise of ocean waves gave way to a spoken word track of a woman saying, “St. Tropez. Sand in my hair. I forgot my sunglasses.” The show ended with the Beach Boys’ “Kokomo.”

Backstage, I chatted briefly with designers Fernando Garcia and Laura Kim. Garcia’s parents were so proud they had tears in their eyes. Kim explained that the oversized bags in the show were inspired by Fresh Direct bags (she had just partnered with the brand on Instagram content). “Since COVID, Laura became this new Martha Stewart of sorts,” explained Garcia.

In the backstage area behind them sat a basket of bread loaves branded MONSE. Kim hadn’t tried it yet, but planned to take one home.

“I actually like [cooking] because I can control the whole thing,” she said. “Whereas in fashion, I can't control it anymore. It just became too big.”

Overheard at Fashion Week:

“Vanessa Friedman is on a bus!” —frazzled PR person outside of show

“Me? I don’t have a Labubu.”

“If you’re anxious for a pickle right now, I can definitely take care of you.”

“That is what I want to do as a journalist — whether I was a journalist or not!”

“Ma’am, don’t freak out — but there’s a lantern fly on your leg.”

Woman: “I’m gonna take your picture.” Man: “Maybe in a little — OK fine.”