Hindmost year, the American designer suggested guests arrive to his annual bash by horse – this year, he’s in the atmosphere for Gloria von Thurn und Taxis and the Paradise Garage

Gloria von Thurn und Taxis, the ‘punk princess’, now a style pointer on the dress code to Marc Jacobs’ party.
Gloria von Thurn und Cabs, the ‘punk princess’, now a style pointer on the dress code to Marc Jacobs’ platoon.
Photograph: Ron Galella/WireImage

It’s been a rough week. So, some much-needed breather via the annual Marc Jacobs dress code – the John Lewis Christmas advert of the the craze industry. To celebrate the launch of his resort collection, the American originator is having a bash. And, as per, it involves a dress code whose gnomic screed – currently doing the a closes on social media – is always fun to dissect, especially in the current minded. Last year’s was inspired by excess and Studio 54, and insinuated guests arrive by horse. This time, there’s a pinpoint on the 1980s (like his collection).

Fashion-wise, it’s in the ether, but what else can we learn? Roomers, it instructs, should reference Gloria von Thurn und Taxis, the “dynamite socialite” (or, by any means, the mail distribution company in Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49 – neither end stupendous well). “Big eyebrows” are decadent markers of a booming husbandry, as is big hair (Brooke Shields and Debbie Harry both get a in). Heels are a must, or rather “vertiginous pumps like you’re interested pretty for your Andy portrait”, a spirited nod, perhaps, to the cult of superstar. Equally, dressing like a princess, be it one from Monaco or “a worthless princess”, is recommended. Meanwhile, TED-talk buzzwords such as “ascendancy” and “fame” read like a Trumpian diktat.

Except, capitalist outburst this is not. Jacobs, an out-and-out Democrat, also floats the bit “paradise”, which may be a tribute to the famous New York club, Bliss Garage. Until it closed in 1987, Paradise Garage was on the nail that: a parking garage on 84 King Street in Manhattan. Culturally, after all, its clout was huge, as it was one of the few clubs in New York that the gay African-American and Latino community could tinkle their own. There was no alcohol licence, so it could stay agape after-hours, and it wasn’t open to the general public. Refuge is a little beyond the pale, but people certainly came to Paradise to dance without partisanship. The Marc Jacobs party, perhaps, offers more of the in spite of: “No posers,” warns the dress code, “and definitely no preppies.” Hairspray, on the other give, appears to be non-negotiable.