The Diesel show had a lot to say. But in the end, I thought Glenn Martens lost his focus, as the collection went in too many directions and roamed into pure entertainment. But then, Diesel is the go-to brand for hedonism. As the first models came out in his artisanal-industrial shredded and devoré denim outfits, the rain started to slice with gusto through the spotlit area above the huge runway that stretched long into the huge crowd (the free tickets that had been made available online – first to 1,500 students from Milan’s universities, then to all comers – had been snapped up in minutes). Dieselized parodies of old-school movie posters appeared on the garments, which in majority were distressed, acid-washed and double layered. Close fitting ruched jersey or lurex dresses, some of them traced with the external outline of underwear, acted as loose human pastiche of the Oscars statuette. But it also read very Mugler. Destroyed tuxedos, half red carpet and half apocalypse, were the masculine counterpoint. Artisanal pieces included dresses handmade in shredded denim or burned mesh. Several models were caked in grayish ochre mud that matched the tone of their looks. As the last model walked, statuette-esque in a flowing black silk skirt and bralette/scarf combo, the rain suddenly cleared. The finale – and then four more hours of partying – followed.
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!
At Etro, three seasons in, Marco De Vincenzo is gradually finding his groove. He starts to navigate around the brand’s vast archive pretty well, with all its troves of rare fabrics and prints. “It’s weird how the imagination brings you to places that somehow you can’t describe,” he said. “The magic of the temples of Angkor Was, a scrap of beautiful brocade from the 18th century… the mind travels through memories and suggestions, mixing them together with no logic or rational hierarchy, and lands instinctively in fabulous places with no name.” He called his spring collection “Nowhere“. De Vincenzo’s audacity and quirk was the glue that kept the collection cohesive, despite its visual jumble of graphics and handsome textures. “But there are no citations, no recognizable attributions, everything comes to life in a magical no-place,” he said. Not afraid to confront challenging shapes (swirling trailing hems sneaking awkwardly around the ankles), unexpected juxtapositions of volumes (XXXL leather blazers worn over equally humongous tent-like strapless circle dresses) and redundant intricacies of construction (an abundance of twisting, knotting, braiding and slicing), De Vincenzo is carving a distinctive niche of cool for Etro, bending its codes into a spirited, vital, visually compelling rendition. The diverse, refined casting, sophisticated grooming and imaginative styling only added to a convincing performance.
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We live in the times of late capitalism. It’s also how Conner Ives entitled his spring-summer 2024 collection, which starting point was a TikTok video he stumbled across a few months ago of a girl live-blogging her experience queuing for a fashion sample sale in New York as smoke from the Canadian wildfires bathed the city in an ominous orange glow. “As much as it felt like the end of days, there was also a dark humor to it,” Ives said at a preview. “It’s the beginning of the end of the world, and we’re waiting in line at a sample sale.” “Late Capitalism” – a collection that invitates to talk more openly about the economic realities of what keeps the fashion world moving – is “a subject that makes me uncomfortable, which made me feel like it was something worth talking about,” he said. Ives is one of a generation of designers for whom sustainability is something of a given, meaning he hasn’t telegraphed his eco-credentials all that loudly in the past (although with his signature approach of lending deadstock and upcycled vintage clothes a glamorous new life, you didn’t have to dig very deep to notice it). But he now feels a greater urgency to share the various methods by which he’s carved out his own, more responsible lane. “I think part of me didn’t want to get up on my soapbox, as I wasn’t sure if anyone really cared,” Ives said, noting that in his few years of doing production at scale, he’s repurposed nearly 15,000 T-shirts destined for scrap yards, while a new partnership with Depop will see him use the platform to source bulk raw material for production. And he’s open to talking about the fact that the system still isn’t perfect. Sure, he’s made a firm commitment to only staging a runway show once a year, but he still needs to produce lookbooks in between to allow him to sell year-round and keep his business afloat. “I’m very aware there’s an irony to the ‘Late Capitalism’ collection being an answer to getting more items into stores,” he acknowledged.
So, then, to the clothes. In his signature spirit of character-driven styling, Ives’s lookbook- photographed by Johnny Dufort, and starring the TikTok-favorite model of the moment Alex Consani – began with one of his “archetypes,” a T-shirt and skirt decorated with a swan motif as an ode to Natalie Portman’s doomed ballerina in Black Swan. Once again, there was plenty of fun to be had identifying the various figures he was paying homage to, from Charlotte York to Carmela Soprano. Ives also continued his journey of expanding out from the spliced T-shirt dresses that made his name as a fashion editor favorite, continuing to develop his tailoring and elevate his eveningwear offering. Highlights included a series of T-shirt dresses with 1930s-inspired trumpet skirts made of recycled jersey, a sheer bias-cut dress cut from baseball jersey material, and a swishy black halter gown with a mother-of-pearl shell as a belt buckle. But perhaps the most striking looks came at the end, in the form of a dazzlingly intricate dress strung together from 9,000 soda can tabs, and a slip made from cowrie shells strung together in a bias lattice. Cowrie shells, being one of the earliest forms of currency in human history as Ives pointed out, is another nod to the collection’s meditations on commerce.
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Simone Rocha staged her spring-summer 2024 show in the rehearsal space at the English National Ballet. “I love the rise and fall of doing a show,” she said. “Sometimes it’s a big spectacle, sometimes it really brings people in.” By shows, she also had wedding ceremonies on her mind. The cake-inspired tiers of appliqué on white tulle dresses and the sound of silver “wedding” bells tinkling on slippers, sleeves and bags. “It’s almost fragmented,” the designer said of Frederic Sanchez’s music for the show. “It’s that disturbed feeling, all the emotions of a rehearsal… the nerves!” Despite the sense of tension Rocha set out to create, there’s little chance of a bride wearing one of these dresses getting cold feet the night before. The show’s highlight: instead of a bride holding a bouquet, fresh roses were bunched between layers of sheer tulle, and fabric versions were manipulated into dresses and jackets. Models carried single stems fashioned from cotton or pearls, and bare legs were decorated with red rose tattoos. As a motif, it was equal parts enchanting and fragrant.
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!
Finally, a collection this season that makes the viewer truly wonder. Nobody transforms the mundane into extraordinary like Jonathan Anderson. Plasticine – that’s what the blue hoodie and white shorts were molded from at the beginning of the JW Anderson spring-summer 2024 fashion show in London. Anderson discovered that Plasticine is still being manufactured in Northern Ireland, the place of his birth, plus it makes adults smile as much now as back in their childhoods. That was an emblematic starter for a collection that had Anderson’s collection circling back to the youth-based energy of his brand. “It was kind of re-going back to find a new path,” he said. In the summer he “saw all these girls and boys hanging out wearing biker jackets and cargos.” Street observation – seeing the generic clothes young people really wear, but with a different attitude in each generation – put him in the mood to think about “what happens when you focus on reduction. It wasn’t about a lot of tricks. Kind of a cleanser.” Adding glamour to the MA-1 archetype by inflating it as a cocoon and having feathers explode from the seams was another cheerful moment, equally beautiful. And putting something that might have been a Hula-Hoop up the skirt of a knitted dress. Playfulness balanced with practicality might be a way to sum it up. Love!
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!
