For spring-summer 2023, Lily Miesmer and Jack Miner presented a lesson in perfect imperfections at Interior, balancing delicate femininity with their signature perverse edge. Barring the occasional pop of red in for of a ripped indie-sleazy t-shirt, the neutral palette puts the focus on the duo’s masterful drapery and eye for sensual fits. Alongside raw-edged slinky netting and covetable suiting, fall in love with amply ruffled going-out tops and a stunning ivory skirt whose full, twirl-worthy volume is cleverly offset by a mud-dipped hem (obsessed). “She probably just has anxiety, and they’re like ‘You’re hysterical, go live in the attic.’” Miesmer said backstage. Distress – both mental and physical – was a driving force in the show, down to the Pixies hit “Where Is My Mind” playing during the finale. True to their ironic take on elegance, Miesmer and Miner found plenty of ways to riff on the staples of Park Avenue princesses: shirt dresses (but with voluminous trains), cozy cashmere knits (but with an unraveling crop), double breasted suits (with raw edges) and ballet flats (but actual ones used by ballerinas, sourced from Miesmer’s favorite dance store). Classic, almost preppy affluence is at the core of Miesmer and Miner’s designs, but this season there was something rotting underneath – and they’d take that as a compliment. “There’s an audacity in destroying the most beautiful cotton fiber, yarn, cashmere, and layers of chiffon and lace,” Miesmer added, referring to how she and Miner took power tools and horse brushes to the textiles to give them the exact right effect. The fun of Interior is how they distort the prissy, the stuffy, and the basic. Their first collection was filled with clothes that would look at home at a dinner party, but since then, Miner and Miesmer have incrementally added a sinister undercurrent. A pink strapless ruched cotton jersey top with a swishy cotton gauze skirt is a prime example. It could have been worn by one of Degas’s models, but the hem is more muted than the top, suggesting frequent wear, and the waistband is folded down. She’s not a prima ballerina; she’s the last one standing in a horror movie.
Collage by Edward Kanarecki.
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