What this all meant was that the house’s classic bar coats were cut from mixed plaid scarves. Corsets had a sturdy, armorial appearance. Floral embroidery slid over the bodices. Black Jacobean velvet was used for evening dresses, including a knockout dress where white lace hugged the neck and hugged the décolleté. And there was more lace, in steel gray and gold, paneled and pieced together into dresses, the seams rippling with tiny lines of ruffles. All this was complemented by pearls hung from leather chokers, studded leather crossbody bags and quilted clothing, casually unzipped motorcycle boots and leather wading boots, a reminder that Chiuri makes boots like no other.
As with her previous resort getaways – to Mexico, Spain or Morocco – she chose to collaborate with local designers and artisans: tweeds and cashmeres from Johnstons of Elgin; more knitting from Esk Cashmere; ceremonial headpieces by Robert Mackie; and the smoothest fabric, Harris tweed. (Chiuri traveled to its source, the Outer Hebrides, to meet the weavers who make it from their homes, and, a major mainstay for her here, went there in freezing, windy November.) She also collaborated on one look with Samantha McCoach of Le Kilt, which Sarah Mower wrote about here.
The dragnet of travel, the vastness of thought, the intensive research (above this collection were the writings of Scottish cultural historian and artist Clare Hunter) and the almost anthropological sense of how she works at the resort – these are all examples of Chiuri’s desire to go that step further and deeper, to search for the meaning of what she does and why she does it. “Nowadays we tend to think of fashion only as something about brands,” she says. “But fashion is not just about brands.”
Yet it all starts with Dior, and how the house historically navigated the world. In this case, images from a charity fashion show held by Monsieur Dior in the gray pallor of post-war Scotland in the 1950s turned out to be her starting point. But typical of Chiuri, it was not the haughtiness and formality of the show that appealed to her, but the reportage images of what came after: the models relaxed and free, partying with the locals in their evening dresses and ceremonial kilts. The collision of the dream with the everyday – and how that is always for the best.
Looking at the shows as they were then, she may have also thought about the shows of today – and the fashion of today. Although her Scottish tribute resort was shot with her usual realism, there was also more theatricality and flourish than in previous collections; a recognition that fashion needs its three-dimensionality – literally and metaphorically – like never before. That you really have to step up what you say. And this collection said a lot. You could even hear it through the winding pipes.
