Haute couture embraces experimentation

The Paris Haute Couture weeks opened with a certain flamboyant experimentalism: incongruous materials, not necessarily precious; bulbous, abstruse, flowing, unfinished shapes that were deliberately unflattering; the evident aspiration to transform every garment into an object that, if not artistic, is certainly a collector’s item. A possible explanation for this shift from haute couture as a symbol of social status and overt affiliation with the ruling classes to couture as a display of an extremely niche cultural and aesthetic status —it is still a matter of social status, but in this second instance even looking unattractive is a sign of power—may perhaps be found in the general shift in the market offering. With prêt-à-porter commanding astronomical prices and garments often available in semi-couture versions, true couture—that crafted in ateliers—can finally, and quite rightly, become the arena for an extreme game in which the ultra-wealthy allow themselves to be tempted by impossible, abstruse visions, and enjoy them as a reward for their general pursuit of absolute individualism.

At Dior, Jonathan Anderson is once again collaborating with an artist: following Magdalene Odundo’s still, sculptural vases, it is now the turn of Lynda Benglis’s knots – gestural and precarious – made all the more ephemeral by the hand-pleated fabric and thus destined, like everything else, to fade away – the melancholy of existence. It is a step forward in reconciling the garment as an abstract entity with the body as a living, moving entity, but Anderson’s journey within the illustrious fashion house continues to be marked by a cold chaos that does not seem to resolve itself in any direction, and which, above all, diminishes the feminine silhouette rather than celebrating it – an aspect that is central to Dior. What is striking, amidst the whirlwind of themes and motifs – from the phytomorphic to the historical, from the respectable to the eccentric – is the process-oriented nature of the result: instead of the closed structures that reshape the figure, typical of couture, Anderson favours shapes that fray and dangle, almost as if to keep the umbilical cord intact with the roll of fabric, the origin of it all. It is a noteworthy perspective, though one that would require more in-depth thought; thought that, for the moment, remains at the stage of an amateurish sketch. The execution certainly does not measure up to that of the Dior ateliers. Excellent, however, is the decision to involve Benglis in a range of accessories – bags, jewellery, shoes – which are already, as things stand, fully realised collector’s items. At Schiaparelli, Daniel Roseberry steps up the pace of material experimentation, with latex as his material of choice, whilst still retaining the hourglass, hyper-feminine silhouettes so beloved by his clients. The rather eclectic stylistic journey includes references to marine horror – mutating jackets with tentacles – clinical sadomasochism, Charles James and echoes of Antoni Gaudí’s organic architecture. Not everything quite adds up, and the amalgam is at times hard to stomach and camp, but the theatrical urgency finds a more rigorous expression that is much appreciated. Standing Ground’s catwalk debut confirms the steady, authorial hand of Michael Stewart, the designer behind this small, niche project, consisting essentially of garments sculpted or draped around the body. The roots of Stewart’s work are clear – Azzedine Alaïa and Charles James – but the choice to interpret everything through a lens of tribal abstraction – with seams and embroidery resembling scarification – creates a new balance: one that certainly needs refining, but is nonetheless convincing.