There was an intriguing shift going on at Eckhaus Latta‘s spring-summer 2024 fashion show. Their venue this season was the International Building in Rockefeller Center, which harks back to the great business centers of yesteryear, with dramatic escalators and a 45-foot statue of Atlas. The clothes reflected that corporate feel, messing around with the “formal” dress-code. Zoe Latta and Mike Echkaus introduced new materials to their brand, like lace and leather, and in general the offering felt very mature, solid – of course with a distinct, gritty twist. Could this be Eckhaus Latta’s answer to the prevailing “power dressing” trend? Through an ironic lens. “There’s something deeply sad about working all day and night on a garment that’s going to be seen for four minutes max, and then maybe get pulled [for a photo shoot], and then lost by a stylist. Or FedEx,” Latta said. “So we want to figure out where our language exists in an exciting way, but also in a way that is reproducible and wearable. Finding the things that can be a more ‘luxury’ offering and the ones where we can have more accessible price points that are still cool and exciting.” On the luxury end, they worked with leather for the first time – all deadstock, from Portugal – to make fantastic jackets, slim dresses, and baggy jeans that will be produced in limited runs. As always, the excitement came from the materials. The designers worked with Unspun to develop custom fabrics for denim. “It was so much fun to work with a new technology and develop fabrics,” Latta said. A pair of extra-wide, coarse-woven jeans was made out of twine they sourced at a hardware store. They curved elegantly around the legs like a small ball skirt, but also gave the impression of a cowboy in chaps (there were hints of the American West throughout). A group of knitted separates made from a soft yet sturdy Italian fabric in sheer beige were all “discreetly” embroidered with the EL logo in contrasting red thread. “We’re doing a monogram for the first time, but kind of ironically putting it on these ‘naked clothes,’ so it’s almost like a tattoo,” Latta explained. Hari Nef wore a tank and matching pencil skirt, very ladylike in its silhouette, with pointy-toe mules. “We always have these kind of sheer, kinky pieces – but they’re not kinky in the sense that when people wear them they feel objectified; we just want them to feel more sexual in themselves,” Latta added. The captivating thing about Eckhaus Latta is the way the designers play with contrasting desires. There’s an undeniable sex appeal and sensuality to what they do—because their clothes beg to be touched, while at the same time they’re thinking about the Patagonia brand and using tech fabrics and materials. Latta calls it “the tension between what’s really durable and hard and wearable and what’s delicate and fragile.”
Collage by Edward Kanarecki. Don’t forget to follow Design & Culture by Ed on Instagram! By the way, did you know that I’ve started a newsletter called Ed’s Dispatch? Click here to subscribe!
So far this New York Fashion Week, Proenza Schouler delivered the most convincing answer to the big question: how do we want – or aspire – to dress in 2023. Actually, this collection could be the contemporary equivalent of Helmut Lang (instead of what Peter Do delivered in his debut). “We finished the fall show and we knew right away that we really wanted to continue its spirit,” Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez said. “To have that board of women we pulled together last season be the starting point and just kind of riff off a lot of the same ideas in a spring context.” The two collections were very much in dialogue with each other. It started with the celebrity casting. Chloë Sevigny, who opened last season, was replaced by Natalie Laura Mering, who is known professionally as Weyes Blood and who wrote an original composition for the soundtrack. Her white single-breasted, three-button jacket and black trousers struck an understated, minimal note, save for her glossy red toe polish and sheer black stockings worn with strappy kitten heels. Other jackets were worn tucked into pants waistbands, a utility belt strung through the belt loops. The designers liked the ordinariness of showing bleached straight-leg jeans and a black leather coat with straps hanging below the hem (an equestrian reference) and a papery windbreaker-type jacket with a mesh tee. They answered those plainer looks with special pieces that showed off their interest in craft, like mesh dresses made from hand-tacked ribbon and gossamer separates with “broken glass” embroidery. The label’s newly designed initials appeared on the Proenza’s first handbag, the PS1 – back in squishy leather and leather-covered hardware. Its low-key cool jibed with the rest of the collection.
Collage by Edward Kanarecki. Don’t forget to follow Design & Culture by Ed on Instagram! By the way, did you know that I’ve started a newsletter called Ed’s Dispatch? Click here to subscribe!
There’s something so reassuring about a Ralph Lauren collection. It’s really good to see the designer back on the New York Fashion Week schedule, as he brings much-needed substance to the table. For spring-summer 2024, the all-time American designer looks back at his 2000s aesthetic (especially the gorgeous spring-summer 2003 collection which resonates so well with fashion in 2023) and delivers a line-up of what I call future vintage, clothes that will become heirlooms. The offering started with that most American of fabrics, denim, only Lauren treated it in the most elevated of ways; lined with chiffon and tulle and burnt out into devorés, it was then over-embroidered with sequins and beads. It doesn’t feel like an exaggeration to liken these pieces to couture, even if the silhouettes he was working with were straightforward jackets and cargo pants. From there, the show moved onto a series of black and gold looks and a chance to play with house codes like the RL logo, which was picked out on the torso of a clingy beaded black dress, and the military jacket, which got belted over silky pants and strappy heels. Christy Turlington’s show-closing gold lamé one-shoulder gown was a knockout. A glamorous, NYFW moment.
Collage by Edward Kanarecki. Don’t forget to follow Design & Culture by Ed on Instagram! By the way, did you know that I’ve started a newsletter called Ed’s Dispatch? Click here to subscribe!
Peter Do always had a Helmut Lang-like sensibility; I even hinted he could be a great choice for the brand exactly one year ago. Just like Lang did in the 1990s and early 2000s, Do creates at his eponymous label everyday uniforms for a hectic, urban life. He also has a similar take on minimalism, which he polished up under Phoebe Philo at Céline (who, by the way, often referenced Lang’s style-codes). Unexpectedly however, Do’s debut collection for the Fast Retailing-owned brand didn’t deliver. It was yet another remix of Helmut’s signatures, grit-free, nicely packed and smoothed up for a contemporary customer (who, if truly loves Helmut Lang, will simply buy the real deal on a resale platform). In Peter’s painfully straightforward spring-summer 2024, there were many references to the Austrian designer’s milestone moves. The yellow taxi cab print that appeared in many fabrications was a callback to Lang’s then-agenda setting move of advertising on the top of taxi cabs, a format once considered too pedestrian for high fashion by his designer peers. It eventually gave Do’s collaborator, the author Ocean Vuong, a theme for the poem that was printed on the concrete floor of the venue, calling back to the Jenny Holzer installation that was the centerpiece in the original Helmut Lang store at 80 Greene Street. There was also a take on Lang’s tailoring: the flat-front trousers, the androgynous, almost but not quite plain jackets, the crombie coats. The seat belt straps that criss cross the torso and pass through belt loops are straight out of the archive, a reference to the underground world of bondage clubs, but remove them and the suits will pass in the straight world. Helmut Lang’s style captured the essence of a specific time, it was an antidote for over-the-topness, a comfort-place for artists and people who were far-too-cool-for-fashion. Reviving the classics to death just makes no sense.
Collage by Edward Kanarecki. Don’t forget to follow Design & Culture by Ed on Instagram! By the way, did you know that I’ve started a newsletter called Ed’s Dispatch? Click here to subscribe!
Back in July, I defended my MA Thesis in Art History titled “Selected Phenomena of Haute Couture Fashion as a Reception of Early Modern Catholic Pictorial Traditions”. In the thesis, I’ve analyzed one of the most intriguing examples of dialogues between fashion and Catholic imagery in history: Arkadius’ Finale Icon which closed his revelatory spring-summer 2002 collection. For the sake of research and a better understanding of the designer’s intentions, I’ve interviewed Arkadius himself at the beginning of the year. Yes, the legendary designer, the ultimate icon of Polish fashion, the creative who enamored London in the late 1990s and early 2000s.
First, here’s an excerpt from my thesis, where I discuss the designer’s take on Catholic imagination through Finale Icon, an incredible piece of fashion history:
Arkadius’ design, which comes from the Virgin Mary Wears The Trousers collection, was inspired by two different artistic representations of Mary: the statue of the Blessed Virgin of Macarena from the Basilica De La Macarena in Seville and the painting of Our Lady of Czestochowa.
In his work, Arkadius drew inspiration from the world around him, from political events and social phenomena to art and literature. As with Cristóbal Balenciaga [another designer whose Catholicism-inspired work I’ve analyzed in my thesis], images of visual culture related to homeland were an important reference for him. An example of this is the spring-summer 2001 Paulinacollection, where Polish folklore and rural lifestyle proved to be the key references. Polishness as understood by Arkadius, consisting of a cultural landscape built from folk traditions (including Łowicki and Podlasie cut-outs and wicker decorations), was never seen before in such a bold way in the work of any contemporary fashion designer, let alone at London Fashion Week. It seems that the Paulina collection became a starting point for the further deconstruction of Polishness, and the creation of a collection related so intensely to a significant image of native visual culture that is Catholic tradition. In the designer’s own words, “the environment in which we grow up, the society in which we function and the religion we follow shape us in a certain way.” The Virgin Mary Wears The Trousers collection appeared to be a thorough reflection on the phenomenon of religion, which can unite as well as differentiate people.
The Polish designer presented looks inspired by liturgical vestments (such as a stole), treated rosaries as decorative trims on dresses, and used ecclesiastical motifs like the Latin cross, the heart-shaped ex-voto and the representation of the white dove in the form of ornate embroidery on jackets and tops. Arkadius “desacralized Catholic images and church ceremonial and transported and exploited their aesthetic qualities for the sake of fashion spectacle”, Dominik Zieliński stated in the designer’s monograph. What interests me most, however, is the final creation in the collection, which Vogue fashion critic Sarah Mower compared to an experience of “religious climax”.
The Finale Icon look largely escapes conventional identifications of garments. Presented on the catwalk by model Kasia Pysiak, the outfit consisted of two essential pieces of “clothing”. The upper part of the ensemble, worn over a black shirt, was a rectangular black canvas stretched over a frame with specially cut holes revealing the model’s face and her protruding hands. The lower part of the outfit was a pair of pants of classic cut covered in opulent, floral pattern. The runway styling was completed with black stilettos created in collaboration with Jimmy Choo Couture. The most important element of the look is the aforementioned canvas, which was modeled on the image of the Virgin Mary as well as on the tradition of decorative dresses placed on representations of Madonnas [a historical Byzantine-Ruthenian tradition]. This part of the ensemble, with its form resembling an icon and depicting on its surface the figure of the Madonna wearing a crown, was hand-finished with gold jacquard fabric, various lace and costume jewelry in the form of cabochons. It was a “controversial combination of the traditional sacred with the modern profane”, Zieliński concluded.
And now here’s the interview regarding Finale Icon – published for the first time here on Design & Culture by Ed!
Ed: Regarding the final look from the Virgin Mary Wears The Trousers show, what influences and inspirations from sacral art played a significant role for you? The book “Arkadius. Fashion That Became Art” mentions the inspiration coming from the Virgin Macarena of Seville. Why was this particular representation of the Virgin important to you? Did you treat that image of her in a “formal” way when creating this garment, or was it more of an initial impetus for the creative process?
Arkadius: The main reason for using the image of the Virgin Macarena of Seville was her global recognition as an iconic religious imagery. This particular image is an actual 3D sculpture and is very well known and a striking work of art, with a very deep sorrow look, tears, which capture the morbid spirit to represent the philosophy of this particular collection. The strength of the image and the entire mood of the collection was also beautifully captured by the model wearing it as the finale of this show.
Ed: Looking at the ensemble, I instantly associate it with “Our Lady of Czestochowa”, and especially with the “ritual” that is so characteristic of this artwork – that is, adorning it with the encrusted dresses. Did such inspiration take place in your creative process? Do you see any dialogue between the runway look, and this very work of art and the Byzantine-Ruthenian tradition associated with it?
Arkadius: Being Polish myself, my original idea was indeed to use the imagine of Matka Boska Częstochowska and not the Virgin Macarena of Seville, but I also knew that our Polish Matka Boska did not have the same global recognition as Macarena. The Finale Icon outfit was directly inspired by the opulence of Macarena figure, with all its intricate details of embroidery, gold and Byzantine richness. This richness is a metaphor of holiness in the Catholic religion, which very often puts more attention to the imagery rather than the spiritual connection as its religious representation.
Ed: The final look is literally related to the title of the collection. The model portrays the Virgin Mary “wearing the trousers” – that is, in a sense, occupying a stereotypically male stance/position. In my thesis, I am interested in the gender stereotypes, so deeply encoded in the Catholic imagination. Designers, through the medium of fashion, subvert them – for example, they create outfits inspired by the vestments of cardinals or bishops, strictly reserved for the male church hierarchy, and use them in women’s collections. Was criticism of the patriarchy one of the more important aspects regarding the creation of this look?
Arkadius: It is a very good question, thank you for this. I don’t think that anybody has ever asked me what was behind the title. This was actually nothing more and nothing less as a tongue-in- cheek or a whimsical exaggeration of our made-up story of who actually wore the trousers in the family. But this comparison also brought attention to a very fast changing family and gender structure and how many women are now actually running families and not men as it used to be in the past. Hence the idea of the title and the recognition of woman’s strength and her actual position in the society in the 21st century.
Ed: The entire ensemble, from the “icon” part to the trousers, is extremely tactile, rich in texture, opulent, like a real sculpture or painting depicting the Virgin Mary. Do the materials used in the creation of the outfit have an ecclesiastical origin or were they upcycled?
Arkadius: All the materials used in this outfit were recycled from already previously owned pieces of fabric. Only the frame of the icon was purchased new. The trousers fabric was bought by me in Grand Bazar in Istanbul, so it had a Byzantine origin. I bought it at the time because I liked it very much and it didn’t have a specific purpose at the time of my purchase. It became useful later on while creating this particular outfit. All the intricate details from the icon part, were used as cut outs from all sorts of other items we already had or had to find in charity shops.
I’m endlessly grateful to Arkadius for providing me with such valuable answers to my questions, and to our mutual friend Julia Strużycka for connecting us!
FYI: If you want to read my full MA Thesis (it’s in Polish) or are willing to publish it in an academic journal, please feel free to contact me at designadculturebyed@gmail.com!
Collage by Edward Kanarecki. Don’t forget to follow Design & Culture by Ed on Instagram! By the way, did you know that I’ve started a newsletter called Ed’s Dispatch? Click here to subscribe!
Design & Culture by Ed 