Fourteen years later, that trench coat still hangs in my wardrobe. And as I looked around the front row at Ralph Lauren – not at the influencers or brand ambassadors, but the women who got invited because they’re actually buying the brand – it felt like none of them were wearing the current season. Instead, they were wearing something they’d owned and loved for years. A blazer, a sweater, a dress – a sartorial symbol of the life they wanted, and maybe even got. Because here’s the thing about Ralph. You wear his clothes not just because they’re well-made. You wear his clothes because they make you feel like you’re wearing the American dream itself: one where you spend your summer on 19 manicured acres of a Hamptons Estate; where every day is warm enough to wear a linen dress, but every night cool enough to wear a cashmere sweater.
Ralph Lauren didn’t take a bow as far, as I could see. (Which admittedly wasn’t far – the crowd, by that point, had flooded the aisle in a standing ovation.) Instead, he just stood at the entrance to a barn with his wife Ricky and Naomi Campbell by his side. When Ricky ushered him inside, it was a sign for all of us to come to.
If the pre-show was Ralphampton, the post-show was The Polo Barn. The brand built a complete recreation of their New York restaurant in the equestrian space, down to the paintings, booths and menus. (They even brought in their beloved maître d’, Nelly Moudime, from New York.) Jude Law milled about, sipping martinis. (“Do we think he does gin or vodka?” my friend wondered.) Lucky and Nara walked everywhere together arm-in-arm. The First Lady and her granddaughter mingled with the Lauren family. As more and more negronis got ordered from the bar, more and more people gathered the courage to ask Olympian swimmer Bobby Finke if they could try on his gold medal. He kindly obliged every request.
The menu that night offered everyone the choice of Montauk black bass or the Polo Bar’s famous burger. I don’t have the numbers, but I’d guess that the number of burger orders outnumbered the bass at around 10 to one – all of us deep down knew that this was a night where you just had to go full throttle into Lauren land.
However, all great nights must come to an end. The first wave of celebrities departed just as dessert was served. The private car people began right after. As I left, I took one last, longing look at The Polo Barn, now almost empty, except for Laura Dern holding court at her table. I thought about how impressive it was that they built all of this. This being, sure, the restaurant. But also the brand – the one that arguably has, and will continue, to be considered the epitome of American fashion to the world. And then I thought something else: Oh my god, I have to get back on that bus.