One of the tests of a great fashion brand is what his clothing looks like from the runway, on ordinary people – no celebrities paid to wear the clothing, or styled models in clothing, but fans who probably place their money where their taste was, bought a piece and wear it as they want.
It was therefore instructive that before the diesel -show on Wednesday a large number of otherwise anonymous attendees in different versions of designer Glenn Martens’ fragmented, lasered and otherwise Denim changed around the caverneous show room that take selfies and not only saw cool or originally), but but originally.
It is a bit of alchemy that it is known to transform into an unexpected object of desire; To show you something that you think you know in a new light. That is the promise of fashion. And at a time when much of the everyday way has become unrecognizable in a alienating way, it is nice to be reminded that such an experience can actually be a beautiful, even revealing thing.
So far it has happened twice in Milan. Both in Diesel, where after making selfie, the lights went up on a fully inventive, irreverent image of not only the basics, but also the classics, and in Marni, where Francesco Risso held his show in the midst of 75 Bistro tables, around the building stones of the Gardrobe Raf.
That both brands are part of the only brave group of Renzo Rosso can be a coincidence, but can also be a reflection of what happens when designers can take risks when they let their imagination go.
On, in the case of Marni, a kind of sci-fi supper club, full of hybrid cocktail brews of pony skin and silk satin and faux fur split artificially together. From what looked like neat Crombie -wool coats at the back that were pinched at the back in gigantic cocon curves, sometimes decorated with Gavy Luck Rabbit’s feet that are replaced in lapel.
Shirts had just pulled the buttons slightly flowing and transformed into the curved stem of a flower, which flourished at the breast pocket, just like the top of a biased Fishtail dress enhances itself in petals, both toxic and playful. One karmozijnrode suit had a bead of black wolf crawling around the side; A tweed version was decorated with a huge painted tulip. Tracee Ellis Ross wore a golden silk dress distributed by a lightning bolt and looked delighted.
If real life can look like Mars, this was what you might want to wear on Venus.
Or, in the case of Mr. Martens, what could happen if “Coco Chanel went to Balmoral and got drunk from the queen,” said the designer in a preview. He joked, but given that he had been interested in the Chanel rink, together with almost every other designer in the world, when it was open, it was not entirely a joke. It was a signal to expect reinvestment.
Not only from the location, which was covered with more than six miles of white drop of cloth that had become by 7,000 volunteers from all over the world, or from the gigantic inflatable sex doll in the middle, upcycled of Mr.’s second diesel show. Martens and also covered with graffiti. But also from Houndstooth, the most traditional creation of fabrics, shown in Denim Jacquard, cut into collar -free jackets and strapless dresses, and then lasered and otherwise hurdled to suggest both funeral and resurrection, destruction and creation.
When Van de Bouclé Tweed Twin-Set, converted into a trio set by chopping what looked like classic coats in several interchangeable parts (a bolero, a corset, a skirt so abbreviated so that it was really a wide belt) and then again put together in an independent zone in an ero-like, an ero-cow, an orgeo-rated one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rowed one-rose one, in een erogeen is een erogeen in een erogeen hanger en een erogeen is een erogeen in een erogeen, een erius in een erogeen, een erius in een erogeen, een erius in een erogeen hanger-een erius in een erogeen, een erius van een erogeen, een erius in een erogeen, een erius in een erogeen, een eroge, een eroge zone in een eroge, een eroge zone in An ero, an erienting zone in an erius zone.
Leather was washed until it was shrunk in pseudo-ridges; denim, plasticized so that it glowed; And Backless again defined by false front shirts that were stuck on the hull with plaster-like tape, thanks to a company for medical devices. A-Line skirts were surrounded by the upper thigh and hung on a legging-like waistband. Idem Bumster – Pants, a winking height wink to Alexander McQueen and a little fashion history, which were so low that they seemed to flirt with indecentness – although they came with integrated belts to hold them in place. It was a gimmick, but a smart one.
Whether you ever want to wear the pants or not, combining security and subversion is a tempting idea.
