Photo-Illustration: El Corte; Photos: Cathy Horyn, Isidore Montag/Imaxtree, Jonas Gustavsson
When a designer says their show will be more like a music festival, you can assume several things. It will start late. It will be extremely loud, and everyone will be on their feet, facing the stage, which, in Shayne Oliver’s case last night, was a scaffolding with a platform that snaked through a semi-dark performance hall at The Shed at Hudson Yards.
Oliver hadn’t introduced new fashion in a long time. After setting the catwalk ablaze with his aggressively styled brand, Hood By Air (his key years were 2012-2016), he went on hiatus in 2017. Now he’s back with the Shayne Oliver line (and with HBA resuming business as a independent website). only business). In a recent interview, Oliver told me that in the past year or two of Hood’s previous existence, he and his design team had been at loggerheads about its future direction, with some arguing for a return to its streetwear roots. and Oliver wanting to embrace high fashion. . “He was growing up as a designer,” he said. And judging by the looks of recent HBA shows, he prevailed. The design was definitely more ambitious, albeit still with a tough attitude. In fact, the creativity was so explosive that some HBA shows felt like two collections in one.
In our interview, Oliver said that the atmosphere for the debut of the eponymous new label was glamour, even in ball gowns. I never for a minute believed that Shayne Oliver would make a recognizable party dress. Her technique is to chop, remove, or rethink beauty, and she follows in the tradition of designers like Martin Margiela and Rick Owens. She also told me, “I definitely want to find a new way to show.”
Shayne Oliver
Photo: Cathy Horyn
That might explain why he had his models walk through the audience, with virtually no warning. The first model appeared, wearing black boxer shorts with a silver sequined top and a black bubble jacket with white thigh-high stiletto boots and huge black glasses, and the crowd gradually parted. Soon guests formed a catwalk down the center of the room, though a few models, some carrying a single-stemmed white rose as if in pagan ritual, went their own way. Or maybe they got lost.
Anyway, in the end, all the models ended the show by walking gingerly across the scaffolding platform, while a singer performed in a white piping bodice dress. She was Alexandra Drewchin, known professionally as Eartheater. At one point, hers and two attendants of hers, clad in little more than thongs, crawled on all fours behind her, an appropriate posture before a goddess, I suppose.
Even though I had a good location near the makeshift catwalk, I could only see snippets of the costumes. A beautiful black silk dress, low-cut, suspended from thin straps. Some short, irregularly cut dresses in bright pastel colors that looked as if they had been hand-dyed. A black coat with overly glamorous shoulders, with a silver sequined hoodie and some really absurd white patent leather ankle boots with toes so long and pointy they could cut through hedges. No wonder the model took baby steps. There was even a sort of bromance nod to Oliver’s friend, designer Telfar Clemens, or rather the ubiquitous Telfar logo handbag, the so-called “Bushwick Birkin.” Oliver transformed the bag into a one-dimensional silver shell on the front of a black tank top, with cool black pants. It was a funny and sneaky gesture: appropriating his friend’s hot bag and then mocking her as a status symbol.
Other designers have put on concert-like shows, notably Telfar, which even had a mosh pit. Still, the mission to “find a new way” to present runway fashion is worth it. Although Oliver’s comeback collection was just that, a tentative start, it projected strength in form and attitude. It would have been nice to see more of the clothing.
Proenza Schouler
Photo: Jonas Gustavsson
As the Fall 2022 collections kicked off on Friday, the start of a month of shows, strength and individuality were the themes for Proenza Schouler and young designer Elena Vélez.
“It was just instinct,” said Lázaro Hernández, of the genesis of the sultry lantern skirts and peplumed tops at Proenza Schouler, held at the beautiful Brant Center in the East Village. “It seems that we are entering a new moment in our careers, in the world.” His partner, Jack McCollough, added, regarding the forms: “They almost seem like slight historical winks.”
She was referring to ultra-airy puff skirt dresses that featured a knitted top that defined the waist, creating a soft hourglass shape. What was striking about the collection was how deftly it transferred ideas from Proenza’s last two collections, in particular, very flowing simple dresses, high-waisted pantsuits, and fresh colors (this time, a gorgeous inky purple and violet). for a long silk shirt dress). Although the lantern dresses got a bit silly, I liked the designers’ sense of play. Much more interesting were a strapless black knitted peplum top worn with black wide-leg pants, and a long off-white sequined evening gown with a twisted racerback. Those looks conveyed “the new formality” that designers were after, but with a modern ease.
It was a big day for Eartheater, whose chilling music was also performed at Proenza Schouler, by a violin quintet led by Simon Hanes.
Elena Velez
Photo: Isidore Montag/Imaxtree
Vélez called his collection “Maidenhood & Its Labors”. Maybe he just calls it “women and the shit they put up with.” Perhaps from experience, as the daughter of a mother who is a boat pilot on Lake Michigan, and perhaps from her own sensibilities, Vélez has a wonderful way of implying feminine strength: in her choice of attractive, sharp-featured models, in its technical cuts with humble fabrics that can often seem wild and confrontational. She works in linen, chiffon, laminated military canvas, and recycled parachutes. vernacular goods. Some of her Friday night outfits were quite structured: loose off-white chiffon dresses with seams that hinted at boning, a well-constructed brown wool blazer zipped up the side and worn with dark parachute pants.
But many of her garments have a broken, choppy quality, as if the wearer sewed some scraps of old fabric into a dress and went about her day. Other pieces seem to have been painted by Vélez on the canvas and then baked in the oven because his women do what they want. And maybe that’s the source of the sexual sting in his clothes. But whatever it is, it seems to come from an honest place.
See everything
Source: www.thecut.com