Art

L’Amant Double. Prada SS22

| Design & Culture by Ed

The Prada spring-summer 2022 show was the first chance to see Miuccia Prada and Raf Simons’ work on an IRL catwalk. Their collaboration began just as the pandemic descended, and with only videos to tell the story, it could feel at times like the project was in its beta phase. Eighteen months later, with vaccines reopening the world, the brand staged two simultaneous shows, one at home in Milan and the other at Shanghai’s Bund One. At the Fondazione Prada, large LED screens were placed around the runway, and via the live feeds we could see different models striding by in the same looks. As Simons put it, it’s about connecting the world. Clothes-wise, I’ve never been so on fence with a Prada line-up, but I guess if a collection this season makes you question things, then it does the work. Collectively, people on the streets and people inside the fashion industry are embracing sexiness. There’s a diversity of opinion about what’s sexy, but generally speaking, clothes have gotten tighter, smaller, and more see-through as we begin emerging from this COVID-19 crisis. The young generations display a new kind of body positivity that can be frankly startling for older types who didn’t grow up as free. Ultimately, though, their boldness is heartening. “Seduction, Stripped Down” is the name Prada and Simons gave to the collection. In her notes, Prada said, “We thought of words like elegant – but this feels so old-fashioned. Really, it’s about a language of seduction that always leads back to the body. Using these ideas, these references to historical pieces, the collection is an investigation of what they mean today.” The historical ideas in question are the familiar tropes of womanhood, like bra cups and corsetry boning, made unconventional by how they were presented: on simple, even plain, sweaters or as details on denim coats. Duchesse satin sheaths read as almost demure until the dresses turned to reveal they were unbuttoned to the lower back, exposing peekaboo flashes of lingerie. The long evening column also got a rethink; it was sliced above the knee, but a bow in back extended to the floor. “That feels modern,” Simons stated. The hard/soft interplay of raw or distressed leather jackets and tiny duchesse satin miniskirts trailing trains counted as the collection’s most talked about details. Well, I can’t stand those trains, and I feel like they’ve polarized the entire industry. It’s not easy to redefine sexy, as we’ve seen elsewhere this week. Does this word even mean anything in fashion today? Miuccia and Raf did “sexy” in the Prada-ist “ugly chic” manner, balancing cumbersome and sleek, lace with leather, the wrapped and the untied.

Collage by Edward Kanarecki.

I Feel Like A Butterfly. Blumarine SS22

| Design & Culture by Ed

In just a few seasons, Nicola Brognano (with Lotta Volkova’s styling help) has flipped and twisted one of the sleepiest brands in Milan and transformed it into a 2000s-era e-girl nostalgia heaven. Blumarine last had such success in the end of the 90s and the beginning of the millenium, when nothing seemed better than rhinestone butterflies, sexy ruffles and lots, lots of denim. It’s 2021, and ironically, that’s what the TikTok generation loves and needs in their lives. Yet when asked backstage about his inspiration for spring, Brognano said “no one in particular really“. He knows that what matters is inundating social media accounts with the brassy swagger of all the skimpy, hotter-than-hot pants trotting on stilettos on the catwalk today, as well as the risqué fringed and beaded bikinis barely covered by a cropped cardi trimmed in regenerated mink or crocheted in fluoro recycled poly, or the see-through chiffon cargo pants with midriff-baring matching tops in eye-popping Day Glo colors. The co-conspirator in Brognano’s implacable turnaround is Volkova, who was busy backstage before the show shepherding models into a not-too-orderly lineup. Dressed in a whisper of a dress in pale pink stretchy gauze and chaperoned by her gallant, elegantly groomed black poodle Dimitri, Lotta fired off a barrage of her own takes on Blumarine’s new fundamentals: “Military Fairies. Sexy Butterfly girls. Frivolous and fun early Y2K mood when social media wasn’t on the horizon. Denim patchwork queens. Trippy, psychedelic, neon girls. Red carpet denim prints, red carpet bandanas. Low-waisted mermaids.” Love it or hate it, but that kind of Blumarine seems to be timeless.

Collage by Edward Kanarecki.

Emotional Reality. Jil Sander SS22

| Design & Culture by Ed

Lucie and Luke Meier made a life change this year – they had a baby girl in June. That kind of development can alter a designer’s perspective, and backstage they discussed their new point of view: “It’s about embracing a positive future,” Lucie said. “Yes,” interjected Luke, “kids are a material reminder that the future has to be better.” In their four years at Jil Sander the Meiers haven’t often talked about emotions; in the past, at least, they’ve been more comfortable discussing the cut and line of their clothes. This season the cut and line were, at turns, boxy and oversize or lightly nipped. Those details are important, they’re what separate the grownups from the kids, after all; but they’re only part of why people shop for and buy fashion. In the end, it often comes down to emotion. And tapping into personal emotions is bound to make a collection feel more connected. That’s what this Jil Sander collection felt: more connected to real life. Chalk that up to all the denim, which was cut loose and slouchy and in washes beyond basic indigo. Or chalk it up to the models’ mules and boots, which were chic yet still friendly. For spring-summer 2022, they experimented with a range of pastels and brights, and added in some zebra print for good measure. The purple-ish tone of the overheads made the colors shift as the looks came down the long runway. “We’ve learned not to take things too seriously,” said Lucie. That came across clearest in a couple of outfits at the end, which layered sequin-embroidered shifts over trousers and boots. Those sequined shifts count as a real departure for the Meiers: loose, playful, and fun.

Collage by Edward Kanarecki.

Surf & Turf. Chopova Lowena SS22

| Design & Culture by Ed

In their South London studio, Emma Chopova and Laura Lowena cut their trippy, sunny spring-summer 2022 collection featuring plenty of tie-dye, surfer-psychedelia nods and details referring to Germanic heritage. Chopova Lowena‘s maniacally structured dresses are almost peerless in the market, and to wear them you have to be ready to attract attention of every kind. Trachten bustiers inspire fitted bodices with cut-out neckline details that carry into the brand’s debut swimwear. Graphics are hand-drawn by Chopova and Lowena, sketchy smiling suns and happy fish blown up large on one-pieces, tees, and leggings. While the pair are best known for their carabiner skirts, the Chopova Lowena universe is expanding. Their wide-leg trousers and button-up shirts and jackets are available in a larger range of sizes and in beautiful marbled and flocked prints for guys, girls, and everybody. A fluffy fil coupé blows up their silhouettes and bags into new eccentric shapes, while knit socks, pop-top crochet bras, and enamel animal earrings ensure every corner of the body is covered in a tiny, funny spark of joy. Even as the Chopova Lowena world grows its reach to all genders and ages, the designers are wise to never shake their girlhood: that state of becoming when you are aware of everything, sensitive, strong, and fearless. As other brands cynically mine Y2K nostalgia, Chopova and Lowena are designing for a generation born from it: clothes for those who want to be silly-pretty, soft, emotional, and punkishly themselves.

Collage by Edward Kanarecki.

Majestic. Harris Reed Ss22

| Design & Culture by Ed

Harris Reed‘s spactacular debut show took place in the Serpentine Pavilion with a performance by the artist Kelsey Lu, making this experience even more heavenly and as ethereal as the designer’s spotlight-stealing garments. As you may have already gathered, Reed isn’t your average emerging designer. While he was still studying, a chance meeting with the celebrity stylist Harry Lambert earned him a commission for Harry Styles, whose image was made for the fluid romanticism in which Reed deals. The pop star’s 39 million followers kicked in, and just like that, a star was born. As his debut show demonstrated, Reed thrives in the costume territory. He repurposed bridal and groom’s wear sourced from the British charity chain Oxfam into majestic hybrids of gowns and tuxedos, topping them off with enormous spherical headpieces that have become his trademark. The way he cut his dresses was imaginative and resourceful to say the least. Most successful were the ones that showed more silhouette, like a tuxedo jacket chopped into a bolero and elongated with a veil that cascaded like a waterfall, turning it into a dress. The hats made for the most DIY-looking element of the show and could perhaps have done with some less obviously recycled fabrication. But that wasn’t the point. “Everything is about being huge and being seen,” Reed said. It was true for the outfit he created for Iman at last week’s Met Gala. He spent the fittings talking to the supermodel about her late husband David Bowie, who featured heavily on his collection mood boards, and to whom he paid tribute in a striped glam rock suit made out of strips cut from said second-hand finds. Reed shares his Bowie mania with Alessandro Michele, with whom he interned at Gucci for nine months after being invited to be a part of the brand’s roster of cutting-edge cool kids, who get ferried around the world for events. Harris’ “demi-couture”aims to fly the flag for gender fluidity and nonconformity. He’s also an internet sensation and celebrity favorite, which is a major talent in its own right. And he’s only just begun.

Collage by Edward Kanarecki.