Marketable vs. remarkable
FROM the safe white suits right through to the mad pop art gowns, John Galliano’s show on Saturday night was a showcase for the struggle between commerciality and creativity that dominated fashion this week.
For as long as anyone can remember, Milan and New York fashion weeks have been about the kinds of clothes that actually show up on the racks, and Paris has been the creative engine, the place to see designers indulge their aesthetic fantasies, leaving it to buyers to sell them -- or not.
But this season the lines blurred. Galliano is fashion’s petulant child, the one who can be counted on for the kind of self-indulgent, jaw-dropping collection critics love. But in this era of the bottom line, even he went corporate with the bland collection he showed earlier in the week for the Moet Hennessy Louis Vuitton brand, Christian Dior.
His own namesake collection was more nuanced, and you could see the conflict unfold within it. Sculptural white suits came out stronger and sexier than those at Dior but still perfectly wearable in a disappointing Club Monaco way -- a cropped white jacket with a single arching lapel buttoned to one side, an hourglass shape with softly pleated hip pockets, and a motorcycle jacket, all balanced atop skinny trousers or pencil skirts, and chunky platform sandals in white macrame. Even his usual theatrical makeup was pared down to thick painted black eyebrows.
Then Galliano’s mind began to wander in a more interesting direction. First, he sent out a short jersey dress, one side basic black, the other a scribbled pansy print. The print appeared again in color on the border of a beautifully draped dress in lacquered blue silk. It took over more of each successive garment until a skirt suit came out in brilliant chartreuse with Pop Art dot and flower embroidery on the jacket.
Galliano shifted back into neutral with a few floaty chiffon dresses in blush or nude with trails of ruffles down one side. Then he let loose on brightly colored liquid jersey gowns, their straps twisted, with Roy Lichtenstein-like paint dots and flower motifs. Completing the picture were child-like wire hats by British milliner Stephen Jones -- overgrown wire leaves and butterfly wings.
It was fascinating to watch, like a designer’s sketchbook brought to life, complete with the frustrations of having to work within a commercial framework.
Futurism was also a recurring theme this season as designers struggled to break out of the cycle of referencing the past. At Lanvin, Alber Elbaz’s vision wasn’t nearly so sci-fi cinematic as Nicolas Ghesquiere’s at Balenciaga earlier in the week, but it was no less powerful. He took a break from the romantic tulle and jewels that have defined his work at Lanvin thus far and went in a bolder direction.
Like Jean Paul Gaultier, Dries Van Noten and others, he brought a sporty practicality to his clothes, acknowledging the needs of real women, who probably aren’t going to leave the house in the airy tent dresses that the supposedly commercial-minded designers in New York were so stuck on. The result was a wearable collection that was so refreshingly confident and grown up, one couldn’t help but feel empowered watching it.
Elbaz crafted parachute silk into utilitarian flight suits and shirtdresses in shades of fuchsia, teal blue, navy, green and black, with brass snap closures. Satin dresses came short with racer backs, pleated skirts and vaguely tribal swirling plisse collars, worn with glossy patent sling-back platform shoes. There were also T-shirt dresses in a patchwork of shiny silicone-coated nylon and sheer organza, and safari pantsuits for (gasp!) the office.
A tank dress covered in brass studs spoke to spring’s tough side, as did a glossy bomber jacket with a swingy back. And who wouldn’t want to own the charcoal silk one-sleeved dress, falling off the shoulder liquid-like, with twinkling jewels around the neckline? It looked like the easiest thing in the world to wear.
At the romantic Louis Vuitton show, Marc Jacobs finally gave us the Marie Antoinette moment we were waiting for, no doubt inspired by pal Sofia Coppola’s new film. The historicism of the pastel palette, plus petticoats, corseted dresses and jackets with leg o’ mutton sleeves, was kept in check with sportier pieces such as mattress ticking anoraks, shrunken cotton jackets laced in the back, cropped bloomer pants that actually looked wearable, and T-shirts that spelled out “love.”
Skirts with mille-feuille-like ruffles of tulle, organza and Liberty floral print fabric were a continuation of the layering technique Jacobs introduced in his own collection last fall. Meanwhile, their cloudlike volumes echoed the soaring sky-scape that was a backdrop for the runway, as well as the Frank Gehry-designed model for a new Louis Vuitton arts foundation being shown off at the show’s entrance.
Sandals came with holes or slices in the heels, which made the models look like they were walking on air. Those plaid plastic totes one picks up at the Dollar Store were emblazoned with the LV logo for the ultimate in high-low chic, while the popular monogram denim was recycled from last spring and mixed with a mattress ticking on a collage tote. Other monogram bags were covered over with buttons or lace overlays.
Things are in a holding pattern at Chloe, awaiting the arrival of a new designer since Phoebe Philo left to become a full-time mom a year ago. The word is Paulo Melim from Marni will be starting next season, when, hopefully, the label will progress past Philo’s now seasons-old vision. In the interim, the design team sent out a respectable collection of jumpers, Empire dresses and high-waist pants in ‘70s shades of mustard, peach, cream and brown embellished with craftsy bits of lace or patchwork, paired with high-heeled Mary Janes. Still, when Lily Tomlin in that huge rocking chair came to mind, it was a sure sign that it’s time for this childlike look to be put to bed.
Miuccia Prada closed out the week by showing Miu Miu at an 1854 mansion decorated in high French style. She moved the show to Paris last season to keep it separate from the main Prada line. While Prada was all about tunics and bare legs, Miu Miu had a more conservative and prim look. The red-, purple-, gray- and black-hued collection was based on geometry, with angular satin shifts, high-waist trousers and smart button-down shirts.
Dresses were suspended from triangular-shaped halter necks, and pleated skirts were constructed from overlapping half-circles, all paired with uninspiring platform cap-toe satin pumps or patent leather T-straps. Long tunics came in swirling, tribal prints or embellished with squiggles of ruffles placed here or there. Ribbed sweaters were skirted on the lower half and worn over skinny pants for a variation on the tunic dressing at Prada.
The Prada collection had a sultry spirit that defined the Milan week, but that was lacking in the one-dimensional Miu Miu show. Amazingly, even at this last of four weeks of runway shows, one left wanting more. Guess that sums up the season.
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