Maison Martin Margiela
To see or not to see? That was the question in Martin Margiela's high concept
20th-anniversary show. The answer proved testing for the models, who had to
be guided off the catwalk by bouncers, their heads stuffed into stockings,
or hidden behind long, back-to-front nylon wigs, the rest of their bodies
encased in beige leotards and leggings.
Presumably this is an excoriating comment about women's place in the fashion
industry. It might equally be an excoriating comment about Margiela's views
on women's place in the fashion industry. There's no way of knowing because
for 20 years, he has maintained anonymity. Was he among the many lab-coated
design assistants who took their bow with the models at the end? Again, this
is meant to send out some disapproving message about The Ego of the modern
designer. But how big an ego is required to keep up this anonymous malarkey
for two decades?
And what of the model who was wheeled down the catwalk, torso emerging from a
box, the spotlight fixed on her gold necklace... from the Margiela jewellery
collection. This is called having your accessories lines and sending up
branding at the same time.
I don't know if it's possible. I also see that I've reached the end of my
allotted space without mentioning the clothes. Luckily, there weren't many.
Margiela aficionados already know he makes some of the best trousers and
jackets in town. Does he really need conceptual art to sell them?
Dior
Did something happen at the last minute to make John Galliano abandon half
his collection? Normally his shows explore at least three main themes.
Perhaps the clue is that he has been focusing on a more straightforwardly
commercial approach at Dior lately, but there's a fine line between focus
and blinkered. Spring/summer 2009 falls into the latter category. Great if
you're a newly rich Russian, although a Russian's taste evolves from gaudy
showgirl to avant-garde aesthete in four seasons.Whatever stage she's at, if
her lifestyle occasionally requires more variety than micromini tiered and
pleated skirts and bustiers, she may come unstuck - though to be fair, at
night the tiered, pleated skirts reached the ankles.
Where the last Dior collection zeroed in on impeccable tailoring, perfect for
a First Lady looking to create a tasteful sensation, this collection seemed
mired in a comic book cul de sac of late 1980s bad taste, the one marked
“Azzedine Alaïa: Trespassers will be prosecuted”. While those skater-style
skirts and bustier tops in orange or daffodil yellow were exquisitely
stitched from gossamer-weight chiffons and tulles, from a distance they were
dead ringers for the outfits on Strictly Come Dancing. It's great to see
colour in these troubled times, but there's a reason why Alaïa did all those
gladiator skirts and tight tops in black. Meanwhile, the hair was meant to
be tribal but looked more like that of Pebbles from The Flintstones. What
the devil is Carla Bruni going to wear now?
Vivienne Westwood
Trust a Derbyshire woman to tell it how it is. While most of fashion is
adopting the “Let's ignore it and hope this horrid financial drag-aroo goes
away because at least the Asian banks haven't collapsed yet” strategy,
Westwood went for the jugular in her programme notes, urging people to Dress
up, Do it Yourself, and offering tips on how to survive fashion fallout over
the next few months, along the lines of “wear a kerchief as knickers”, plus
numerous suggestions on what to do with shawls, blankets and tablecloths.
This probably lacks the impact of Lidl's price-slashing, but it was much
more stylish.
It may even inspire a new generation to go forth and create - and teach them
that once upon a time customising your clothes didn't mean simply walking
into Hermès and getting your monogram stamped on a £24,000 crocodile bag.
The flaw in Westwood's DIY manifesto is that nothing any of us does with a
hanky or curtain will look quite as good as what she does. While it is the
lot of the audience at a Westwood show to use their imaginations and see
beyond the work-in-progress appearance of some of the clothes, you don't
have to look too far to see the beauty in those apparently
just-chucked-over-the-shoulders ball gowns, comprised of metres of raw-edged
putty-coloured silk, or to appreciate their more commercial incarnations -
the silk bias-cut, fitted dresses, some cupping the breasts, others
halterneck style - that fluttered in their wake. And will no doubt cost a
bomb.
Antonio Berardi
Ever since Antonio Berardi left London to show in Milan, and now Paris, he
has struggled to find the voice that sang out so confidently on his home
turf. But ten years after his departure, he hit all the right notes. Subtly
innovative: his take on spring's ubiquitous kimono sleeves is to turn them
into circular pouches with elegant slits, while his blazers were sharply
curved at the front to reveal low-slung, cropped trousers - he avoided the
sometimes overcomplicated fussiness that made his previous shows ultimately
frustrating affairs.
White lace (another story coming through strongly in Paris, and a trend that
can look disastrous) was in assured hands, with Berardi working against its
sickly connotations by making it stiff and architectural. Teeny cropped
jackets were flared and pleated at the back, a surprisingly flattering and
practical addition to the short, fitted sheath dresses that spliced black
lace with white bib fronts. It was all so good you could even overlook the
odd black dress that was too referential to Prada's recent black lace
collection, or the white waistcoat clearly inspired by YSL. Berardi needn't
look to others; he has a point of view all his own. He just needs to believe
in it.
Balenciaga
At the risk of zooming into the top slot in “Pseud's Corner”, sometimes you
need an ugly show to make you think. What's ugly today is at the vanguard of
fashion next year and in Next the year after.
That's not to say that Nicolas Ghesquière's refashioning of the bosom - his
plaster-coloured dresses, half draped chiffon cowl, half stiff triangle,
funnelled them down the body - will be an easy sell. But you have to be
grateful that someone's trying to do something with breasts other than
bandage them against the body or serve them out on a tray like jellies.
Moulded ski-shaped pants, part Lurex, part padded were mesmerising too, as
were idiosyncratic shoes that featured a kind of articulated ball under the
ball of the foot and reached all the way up the leg to morph into pale Lurex
tights and made the models' feet look not quite human.
This is such modern dressing that it's almost certainly destined not to make
it beyond the odd collector's wardrobe and thence, ultimately to a museum
exhibition, which is ironic. Ghesquière's strength is that, increasingly, he
doesn't look back.
Yet despite this uncompromising stance, he is turning Balenciaga into a global
brand. Admittedly, that's largely through the accessories and
pre-collections - the mid-season collections that feature much more
wearable, conventional clothes. Nothing conventional about this, although
the metallic jackets and strapless sequined dresses (worn here over
flesh-coloured stretchy draped tops) are destined to be ripped off endlessly
by the high street. Definitely food for thought.
