The fashion that never sleeps

When I was younger (the delight-fully awkward age of 13) my parents would never understand why I would spend hours in Haight Street (Wasteland being a personal favorite and Dalia’s) or the Chelsea market buying as my dad calls it "dead people’s clothes."

I’d come home with garbage bags full of used mink capes, retro shirts, dainty lace dresses, army jackets and battered lacquered purses.

I bought them because in my eyes they were truly beautiful and special. Not just a sort of sartorial rebellion that budding teenagers are notorious for.

They bore cuts and prints that could not be found even in the so-called ehip’stome of Urban Outfitters.

Vintage has always been my thang, and as I grew older my addiction grew more hopeless.

The New York store Resurrection became my second home.

It sold vintage Balenciaga and Yves Saint Laurent and now, I even have an agent in California who delivers me vintage Galanos, ballgowns, and my personal favorite – even if it’s not that old – first edition Cavallis in his mobile boutique (a van with racks fitted with every vintage Chanel couture and Pucci that you can only dream of). My mom is now also a convert. It’s her fault why this all started anyway. As a model in her heyday, she acquired an indecent amount of Leonard, Hanae Mori and Pucci only to give them away to friends. Hello! Was I invisible? Is this not what daughters are for? Sons get their father’s vintage cars, fight daughters get passed down couture. So I guess because of my fashionable mother’s lack of foresight, I’m left on my own here.

I’ve begun making a comprehensive collection of Pinoy couture that will be my vintage collection for my daughter. But there will be one sub-section in my collection that will hold a rather special meaning.

New Yorker has been around since the time Chona Kasten and Elvira Manahan enchanted everyone with their impeccable style. Today, it’s still thriving, as well-heeled fashion mavens elbow and outwit each other to get the the last of the Romancing the Stone beaded jacket or be the first to step out in a remade vintage dress that’s been kept in sacred back closet.

One thing that keeps New Yorker so fabulous is the one-of-a-kind beadwork that does not seem to exist anymore. Today, it’s also welcoming a transition that marries the old vintage techniques to modern and more daring silhouettes, "New Yorker has always been pegged for its classical approach to couture. It is known for its vintage appeal yet it is for this particular attribute that it easily translates itself to contemporary and modern designs," Liz Lirag of New Yorker says. "A profound respect for historical detail mixed in with a keen sense of innovative design trends makes for an unbeatable fashion recipe. It’s maintaining the best of the past while keeping an eye to the future with feet planted firmly in the present that gives New Yorker the ability to create the fabulous pieces it does."

Liz describes the new line which is also still included in the more classic and vintage line that defines New Yorker, "We have, for the past three years, been delving into the edgier side of fashion. We have been reaching out to a younger demographic without, of course, abandoning our classic flavor with our existing client base. Casual chic, abbreviated tops and jackets, pants, accessories – all these are part of our new lines."

She adds, "Whatever we create is always New Yorker by definition, – whether it is a classic line or an edgy piece, there is always that indefinable something that is similar to the delicate hint of lingering perfume that remains in the air long after the person has left the room."

An example of which is a vintage fabric ensemble I ordered with runched harem pants (if you can only imagine) in pink lame and a mandarin collar bolero with a side-swipe closure made by its talented creative director Dennis Resureccion and overseen by production head Tina Lirag, Liz’s daughter. It doesn’t belong in a time that defines now or yesterday; rather it’s a very individual modern approach to contemporary clothing. Whereas some will always be baroque moderne, minimalist, street, punk, high-low, avant-garde – New Yorker will always be, well, New Yorker.

Liz also describes excitedly a project that pushed their creativity to the limit, "The most interesting piece we’ve done lately has been one done a few weeks ago. We did a nude piece embellished with payettes made out of recycled aluminum foil wrappers. It was quite a feat for both design and production staff!"

The new guards in New Yorker reads like a paparazzi glossary with different per-sonalities and persuasions. Among them are the Puckett sisters, Audrey Puckett-Chiu and Reina Puckett -Tan, Feli Atienza, Cris Villonco, Angelique Villaraza, Bea Valdes, Xeng Zulueta, Jenni Epperson, Wendy Hotung, Rachel Arenas, Angel Aquino, Tessa Prieto Valdes, Mia Borromeo, Ling King, Marit Yuchengco, and Sophia Zobel.

I was a late bloomer; though I have been hearing about it from friends, I’ve always been lazy to discover new things for myself, sticking to my favored guns. It was only during a cover shoot I did for Metro that I saw some stuff from New Yorker and immediately came in. After ordering a Swarovski dog collar which I wore nonstop for months and a bunch of hats, I quickly moved on to clothing where I started going for more disco pieces and the coveted Romancing the Stone jacket in yellow along with an assortment of Romancing the Stone collars in different colors. The Romancing the Stone line as Liz whimsically calls it, includes heavily beaded lace pieces that are emboldened by thumb-sized rare and beautiful stones nestled in the collar . Among other things, Liz also has more exotic pieces to look forward to, "Right now, we are doing some heavily beaded embroidered pieces for our foreign clients. The pieces are reminiscent of Aladdin’s cave and a Maharaja’s court, very luxurious in nature. Each item is original in its own right, as no two items are exactly alike. These are in the form of accessories and jackets and they are so exciting due to the experimental nature of the product itself that at times we all get a bit giddy!"

As New Yorker sheds its skin to a more progressive aesthetic, Liz is confident that the look her brand is known for won’t turn schizo, "Fashion is like life. One must face up to the prospect that everything will change. Nothing stays exactly the same. If it did we would still be stuck in the Dark Ages," she continues.

"To reconcile retrospective with prospective, we must infuse the dynamism of the present with the finer points of a time gone by. The bottom line is, of course, wearability. Trends come and go. The mark of a good piece is its ability to be worn effortlessly, whether it is a classic or a "cutting edge" piece.

"The mark of a great piece is its ability to transcend time."