Black Beauty

After a night of grappling with my now defunct PC, I have been left scanner-less, printer-less, with a heaving notebook full of material to blog.  Fear not, as I’m back at work sneaking away posts.  I know it’s self indulgent but I did want to write about the most out of world fashion experience I had when I went to the Yohji Yamamoto Dreamshop exhibition in Antwerp.  There’s no beating about the bush; the exhibition was nothing short of amazing.  I call it an exhibition but it was really an interactive experience, like no other.  The retrospective was laid out in accordance to the different themes like the use of black, use of light and construction of an equilibrium.  However, I wasn’t looking at it with the eye of a fashion theorist but rather, I was just taking in the atmosphere and feeling the quiet powerfulness of each garment.  When I say feeling, I mean actually touching the garments which you’re allowed to do freely.  By looking at each piece up close and seeing the construction, you really get to grips with the genius behind Yamamoto’s ability to mix French couture techniques and traditional Japanese dress in a perfect synergy of sculpture and functionality.

As soon as I stepped into the vast white room, I took tip-toe steps around each garment, mesmerised and absorbed by everything.  Then comes the best part yet.  In the centre of the exhibition, visitors are allowed to try on twenty pieces in a bright white neon lit changing vessel.  There were quite a few Japanese visitors there who scuttled through the exhibition as if they were hurrying to get out, which baffled me and they also didn’t stop to try on any of the clothes either which was even more puzzling since this is the main draw of the exhibition.  I must have spent at least 2 hours there with a gallery assistant who brought me item by item for me to change into.  Each time, I stepped out to preen at myself in a mirror, she was ever more enthusiastic and explained to me the structure behind each garment.  Basically it was an hour and a half of pure narcissistic indulgence.  Miraculously, everything fitted perfectly and hung beautifully.  I say this in all seriousness, but I never felt more beautiful than when I was wearing a A/W 2001 black dress with a large sequin bag in the back.  This was about the closest experience I have ever had to couture (god knows how I’d feel if I ever made it to a Chanel couturier).  Also, without the pressure to buy anything like in a normal shop, it was just guilt-free pressure. 

All the while, the lovely gallery assistant kept on shrieking how great I looked and as I tried on several Yohji dresses she coo-ed ‘You’re like a princess!.’  I think I wouldn’t mind being a dark, avant garde princess if I could feel how I did in that bright white dream-like Yamamoto cocoon, all the time. 

THE dress which made me feel a million bucks:

Unforunately, sans scanner and the VERY strict no-photo rule in the exhibition, I only have some shoddy pics taken from the brochure.