Maximum chic

Fashion trends come and go, and with change comes the inevitable question, "Who's going to wear THAT?"

It's a question I don't ask often, mainly because one answer is, me. I thrive on the new. But I never once considered buying into this season's hem-to-the-floor patio dress, known as the maxi dress in the late 1970s. My legs have been liberated far too long to be encumbered by yards of fabric, no matter how light.

But as the season wore on, the dresses -- off the racks of stores as diverse as Neiman Marcus, Diesel, Club Monaco and Bebe -- kept popping up on women at parties around town.

At the premiere party for Spa Hawai'i Magazine and Directory, editor Kapua Inglis and creative director Tiare Friedman both wore maxis by Maui designer Tamara Catz, while event planner Regan Schultz, of Modern Pacific Weddings and Events, wore a strapless maxi by Nicole Miller.

Among dozens of maxi-wearing guests at the lawn party at the Moana Hotel was Nicole Shimabukuro, who wore a maxi dress by Mossimo for Target, which she picked up in North Carolina, where she now resides. She likes the look, saying, "It looks more formal for evening events."

Another maxi wearer, Roxanne Vogelgesang, also likes the long look but concedes to one problem. "The extra fabric makes it harder to walk," she said, and suggested designers may want to add a slit.

There's no denying the confidence and feminine power exuded when wearing a maxi. It's more sophisticated woman than girly girl.

THERE'S BEEN a nearly century-long belief that hemlines drop in poor economic times, which goes against the intuitive wisdom of conserving materials during times of need.

The phenomenon occurred with the leg-revealing flapper dresses of the roaring 1920s, which the 1929 stock market crash and subsequent Depression shot back to conservative ankle lengths.

The 1970s recession brought the forebears of today's patio dress, as well as separates with floor-length skirts, followed by the short pouffy skirts of the booming '80s, when an abundance of fun and money added up to colorful, extreme fashion.

Such gyrations might be deemed coincidental, but there's no denying that negative financial news takes a toll on the mood of consumers, who lose their reasons to party, opting to cocoon in comforting swaths of fabric. There's nothing like a dose of reality to force maturity, in outlook and apparel.

Consumers trimming expenses also nudge designers to come up with new ways to entice, by offering something the typical individual does not already have in her closet. In that case, bringing back the maxi looks like a smart choice after all. The bodices are not all that different from the typical mini dress, making them half familiar. It's also safe to bet that 30 to 32 years after the maxi was last in vogue, few remain that women would wear again today -- unless they like thick polyester.