Deep in the heart of the New York City Armory, a peculiar collection of white, cagelike boxes was assembled in a square grid. Within those boxes were silent, blindfolded men, some holding onto bars as if they were chained to them, others shuffling about as a soft, sucking sound echoed through the room.
Distracting as the setting was, there was no ignoring the true point of the performance - a beautifully tailored collection of twill pants, crisp, white dress shirts and trousers in Wall Street pinstripes. There were prison-stripe pants and sleek, suede jeans circled at the cuff with tiny buckled belts.
This moment last fall was both disturbing and beautiful, and, above all, classic John Bartlett. For 10 years, the designer has been a darling among the fashion press and industry observers who have celebrated him for both his flair for the artsy wink-wink and for his sexy menswear tailored to the sculpted body. While his high prices and significant lack of advertising kept him from becoming a household name, the 39-year-old designer's clothes have been coveted by museum curators and shoppers at stores like Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus.
This week, however, Bartlett stunned the fashion world and announced he was hanging up his scissors and closing his business.
In the end, the kudos heaped on his tantalizing modern vision did not spark enough retail sales. With sluggish sales of his line continuing after an estimated 20 percent dip following Sept. 11, Bartlett sold just $1.5 million this year - not enough to cover costs. Finally, he chose the path of monetarily beleaguered fashion stars like Isaac Mizrahi and closed up shop.
"The retail climate is pretty desperate," he said. "I've been wanting to pull back and sort of relook at everything. I just didn't want to see myself 10 years from now, still struggling like a young designer."
Drawing from inspirations as disparate as G.I. Joe and French dramatist Jean Genet, the graduate of Harvard University and New York's Fashion Institute of Technology dressed the confident man seeking to flaunt his sexual aura.
Bartlett staged his first show in 1992 and won the Council of Fashion Designers of America's Perry Ellis Award for new fashion talent. In 1998, the CFDA honored him with the menswear designer of the year award. In the late '90s, he launched a women's collection that lasted just a few seasons. Recently, he had more success with a secondary line, John Bartlett Uniform, which sold for between $125 to $350, about half the prices of his main collection.
"The tailoring of his garments is amazing," said Randy Heil, men's fashion director of Macy's West. "The clothes are very masculine with a little bit of twinkle, a little bit of sense of humor."
In the months after Sept. 11, however, retailers such as Macy's West became rare as more buyers opted for conservative instead of edgy chic.
David Wolfe, creative director of the New York-based Doneger Group, a retail consulting firm, said Bartlett's wildly inventive fashion shows may have worked against him. Bartlett garnered press attention with shows like the Fall 2001 military-inspired collection, which he presented on models lying still on Army cots. But his focus on presentation may have overshadowed the clothes.
"The kind of publicity he was getting from the last few men's shows he did was very negative because it was so dark and perverse," Wolfe said. "If you are selling a name, the stores are buying the whole package. That's what's wrong with fashion today - we are so into imagery that we forget to look at the merchandise. Stores realize they are selling the image, and no matter how attractive the merchandise is, it frightens the customer if the image is dark. On the flip side, if you have a good image, you can sell rubbish."
Bartlett said his intention always was to weave a story around his clothing. For this reason, he often used his show programs to share his thoughts, whether they were on returning to a rugged Midwestern simplicity post-Sept. 11 (as he did in February when he showed comfy lumberjack coats) or surfing in California, which inspired his Spring 2003 collection.
He said he isn't disillusioned about the fashion business but may seek a creative outlet with a more forgiving schedule. Currently, he's working on a book proposal and plans to focus on volunteer work with a gay and lesbian youth organization.
"In most creative industries, you can get time off," he said. "You can come up with an album or write a play and take time off. In fashion, they don't give you time off. You have to keep going. So, in a way, I don't know if this is going to be a six-month sabbatical or if I'm going to come back."
He said he has been fantasizing for some time about escaping, and it led to the theme of his surfer collection - which received positive reviews and department store orders. (Bartlett remained unsure whether the spring collection would be delivered.)
To that end, when New York's Fashion Week rolls around in February, Bartlett will be noticeably absent.
"I'm going to be in Thailand," he said. "I wanted to make sure I was on the other side of the world."