GET THE LOOK:
Chloé Double-Breasted Wool Peacoat

Balenciaga Hourglass Stretch-knit Over-the-knee Boots
Gabriela Hearst Lucky Bill Crossbody Bag in Black Nappa Leather
Couture is the most archaic branch of fashion sensu lato, and this time around I really wondered if it shouldn’t be put to sleep – and wake up only when it has something meaningful to say again. Or at least when a prince – a new, revolutionary talent – emerges and gives it a kiss of life.
Glenn Martens certainly isn’t that prince. I’ve never been a number one Y/Project fan, and his Diesel isn’t my cup of tea either. So when the news broke that he’s the new creative director of Maison Margiela, you can imagine I wasn’t overly thrilled. After seeing his debut artisanal collection yesterday, all I thought was: damn, we’ve been really blessed to see John Galliano’s final act over a year ago (and we just didn’t deserve it).
To me, Martin Margiela isn’t just the ultimate fashion genius – but also a designer of silence. It took years for Galliano to get into that “silence”. Martens, who’s from a generation that studied Margiela at school, and whose work has been heavily influenced by Margiela since day one, is a “loud” designer. As in “pop-loud”.
That says a lot about why his first collection for the house lacked the soul-touching subtlety of Martin – or Galliano – and instead relied heavily on straightforward references, such as the masks. READ MY FULL REVIEW HERE.
Collage by Edward Kanarecki.
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This haute couture season proves that fashion indeed needs a reset – and the seismic shift of designer departures and new appointments is a healthy cleanse of the system. Chanel’s final pre-Matthieu Blazy show, coming from the overstayed, post-Virgie Viard studio, looked and felt like a parade of dusty, beige utensils that found their way out of a cupboard. Demna‘s final act for Balenciaga, although high on farewell emotions, did convince me that it’s really time to move on. Whatever his Gucci will be, it should definitely operate on a different methodology than the one he created at Balenciaga. It’s understandable he chose to close his chapter at the maison with a collection that was one big bowl of reheated nachos, from the model casting (from synonymous-with-the-brand Isabelle Huppert to on-the-nose Kim Kardashian) to the line-up’s overall look, a Frankenstein hybrid cross-pollinated by the Georgian designer’s idiomatic volumes and proportions, and Cristobal’s archival tropes. But somehow I hoped Demna’s Balenciaga fin would be a one last conceptual stretch, like a dress made from hundreds of meters of taffeta draped on the model a few minutes before the show, or the memorable “Parliament” show.
Nevertheless, here’s to Demna’s new chapter at Gucci, and as for Pierpaolo Piccioli: the Balenciaga floor is yours.






Collage by Edward Kanarecki.
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