New York Fashion Week, a highlight of the spring/summer 2002 collections, was underway on September 11, 2001, when the city was thrust into chaos by terrorist attacks. Fashion editors Laura Craik and Jo Elvin, present for the shows, have recounted their experiences witnessing the unfolding catastrophe.
Craik, then Fashion Editor for the Evening Standard, was preparing to cover the Liz Lange maternity wear show at Bryant Park when the first plane struck the World Trade Center. She recalled hearing the roar of a passenger plane flying low over West Broadway toward the Twin Towers. While initially unaware of the gravity of the situation, she noted the swift shift from normal morning traffic to panic on the streets as news of the attacks spread. Her photographer, Cavan Pawson, was sent to the scene and captured some of the first images of the collapsed towers to reach the UK.
As the fashion show concluded and attendees began exiting, an atmosphere of urgency and panic took hold, with people glued to their phones. Craik, attempting to walk back to her hotel, described the scene as chaotic, with New Yorkers exhibiting a level of fear she had not witnessed before. A loud, dull bang, later identified as the first tower's collapse at 9:58 a.m., added to the sense of a city under attack.
Walking downtown, Craik observed the grim reality of the aftermath: people covered in ash, a pervasive stench of dust and debris, and a palpable sense of shock. The city, usually stoic, was transformed into a scene of devastation. Phone lines were down, and the hotel lobby, which had been a social hub the night before, became a place of refuge for those escaping the destruction.
Elvin, then Editor-in-Chief of British Glamour magazine, was at The Soho Grand Hotel preparing for a meeting when she felt vibrations from the impact of the first plane. Upon exiting her elevator, she found the hotel lobby swarming with people escaping a 'violent tsunami of dust.' She realized the second tower had fallen while she was in the elevator. Like Craik, her team struggled to connect with loved ones in London, eventually resorting to watching the live CNN coverage in a nearby bar. She encountered actress Selma Blair, also dazed and distressed, who had been turned away from a hospital after trying to donate blood, a moment that underscored the grim reality of the situation.
Amidst the unfolding events, fears of biological weapons, including anthrax, circulated, adding to the panic. Elvin described the days that followed as spent walking through a silent city, encountering posters of missing loved ones, and returning to her hotel room to cry. She later experienced a lingering physical sensation of grit in her mouth, a reminder of the pulverized materials in the air.
In the aftermath, the fashion industry also mobilized. Tents that had housed fashion shows were repurposed as field hospitals and later as family centers for DNA matching. Chelsea Pier 54, the venue for the Marc Jacobs show, became a temporary morgue. Despite the devastation, New York Fashion Week resumed on September 17, with scaled-back presentations, a decision justified by organizers as a means to support Manhattan's economy.
Both editors reflected on the lasting psychological impact of their experiences. Elvin, years later, sought help for what was identified as PTSD, a primal fight-or-flight response her body had become stuck in. She noted that while she was not physically harmed, the event had profoundly affected her, leading to ongoing anxieties that she has since worked to manage. Craik, while not detailing psychological effects, also expressed a lasting connection to the city and a lingering question about the nature of safety in a world still marked by conflict.