Welcome to the Garden Party

For all the NYFW talk about performance as an alternative to the traditional fashion show (Gareth Pugh, Opening Ceremony’s play – I’m still thinking it out before I post, and best of all, Olivier Saillard’s Models Never Talk performance piece), we forget that Thom Browne is a dab hand at creating mesmerising mise-en-scenes, where you escape into another world despite being in a Chelsea art gallery space.  He doesn’t do it for a singular season for a one-off surprise factor but it’s the modus operandi of his collections and for womenswear in particular, Browne indulges in extremes, safe in the knowledge that his business is built on solid suits and shirts.  This season was no different except maybe one common observation that everyone agreed about – take off the theatrical make-up, the wacky sunglasses (flower shaped, awesome IMO) and out-there millinery beautifully crafted by Stephen Jones, and you’re left with beautifully crafted and yes, wearable clothes.  Ok, wearable is pushing it but they’re clothes that are so enticing in their exuberant use of colour, decoration and fabric manipulation that it’s hard not to be seduced by them.  Like some kind of really perfect dessert, you’d want to wear an ensemble for maybe, five minutes in one’s life.  That would be enough for me.  These are clothes for the clothes’ sake, hence why I felt the need to publish pics immediately.  You’d want to share this stroke of sartorial joy for everyone to take pleasure in, either through the eyes or if you’re lucky, eventually on the body.

I wasn’t paying too much attention to the narrated tale, all part and parcel of Browne’s amped up garden slash tennis party.  Something about six sisters, jolly twin sets and important soirees.  Browne was painting a picture of a bonkers rarified life.  I was sort of drifting in and out of that tale because my eyes were firmly on the clothes.  The delicate feathers fluttering on rainbow tweed.  The pastel seersucker striping with whimsical motifs woven through.  The sheeny shiny layered organza worked into a structured blazer.  The intricate butterly embroidery on houndstooth.  The flowers and spirals trapped in plastic raincoats.  The abstract colour blocked applique (which felt different for Browne).  When I said it was “everything” on Instagram, I didn’t mean it in a hyperbolic Valley-speak slang way, I meant that there was literally everything going on technique wise and it all worked.  When it finished, it was like I had been properly sated by a killer drink and a fine meal – the Michelin star kind of course, as opposed to yer’ bog standard caff.

Narratives, moodboards and inspiration backstory are often a reviewer’s way of compensating for lack of real interest in the clothes.  Sure there was a ton of those things at Thom Browne but the important thing is and yes, this sounds like a broken record is that nothing detracted from the clothes.  It’s almost like we need constant reminding and asserting that the clothes are what THIS (and I’m making a demonstrative hand gesture to the industry at large) is all about.