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ine days before her wedding, Vanessa von Bismarck explodes into Derek Lam's downtown studio, hair flying, car keys in one hand, cell in the other. She throws down her bag, kicks off her scuffed Tod's, and disappears behind a curtain. A concentrated hush descends. This is the final fitting.
A princess bride emerges, in a close-fitting dress made of layers of ivory organza, with tight sleeves scalloped at the elbow and a short train. Organza is almost weightless, but the outermost layer is thickly and intricately embroidered with ivory cotton, which weights it and gives it a perfect hang. Everyone watches von Bismarck dip and sway to get the heft of the skirts and ...