The financial crisis may have been the best thing to have happened to New York's art scene since Andy Warhol. At its peak in 2007, the market was certainly ripe for a takedown: too many galleries selling subpar work at inflated prices, centered in one neighborhood—Chelsea—where prohibitive rents allowed only the most commercially successful to survive.
When I was growing up, I was on a first-name basis with Polo, Ralph Lauren's line of preppy staples. But I've come to understand that the little mallet-wielding man on a horse embroidered on my shirts is more than just a logo; it's a symbol of one of the world's most storied sports.
The seating arrangement at a fashion show has always telegraphed power and prestige; Vogue editor Anna Wintour, for instance, sat front and center at Jason Wu this season, draped in fur and dripping with jewels, flanked by The September Issue's breakout star, creative director Grace Coddington.
In the last decade, as wild financial growth was accompanied by an explosion of ostentation, the world of high-end furniture—perched between pragmatism and corporeal comfort, and enjoyable primarily in the confines of one's home—remained a bit less giddy.
Before Yves Saint Laurent revolutionized the world with his first prêt-à-porter collection in 1966, fashion was a luxury that fell under the purview of the select few who could afford to spend thousands of dollars on a bespoke evening gown or suit.