There really is no designer working today on the level of John Galliano. He is — as Christian Dior said of Cristóbal Balenciaga, the “master of us all” — a master of seasonal metamorphosis, the Dickens of sartorial storytelling, the Da Vinci of technical construction. In fact, no designer has shaped the look of fashion on the catwalk — or the way that people dress in real life — more than Galliano, who helped blur the lines between pop culture and subculture. It’s why you’re probably scouring resale platforms for his earlier work. As the subject of the recent docuseries Kingdom of Dreams, as well as a feature-length documentary coming out next year, there is much reflection on his enormous impact over the years. But much of that focuses on way back when. What makes him a rarity in the pantheon of fashion gods is that he is still producing his best work today – at Maison Margiela, the fashion house he has called home for almost a decade. His work there is unparalleled. His only competition, it seems, is his last collection.
The British designer’s latest Co-Ed show (the term the house uses for its gender-blind ready-to-wear) was a continuation of the coup de théâtre that he staged during the couture shows last summer for the house’s ‘Artisanal’ line (the term for its showpiece couture). Held in the mirrored rooms of the house’s new headquarters, Galliano imagined the love child of the last show’s Bonnie-and-Clyde protagonists, Count and Hen, who embarked on Southern Gothic tale, meeting a cast of cinematic characters along the way of their filmic Moebius loop. The Co-Ed show was held at the house’s new five-floor building on the grand Place des États-Unis. On the lower floors, the Artisanal collection was displayed on mannequins in cinematic tableaux — surgery rooms, a Cadillac floating across a river of aluminium, a doll wearing a shattered-glass dress draped across a work table, a couture gown caught in the patter of a sewing machine.
Upstairs, in sci-fi mirrored halls, the show kicked off with a snow-white mohair twinset pinned together punkish safety pins, worn over a back-to-front chiffon-coated flannel shirt a club night flyer, sandwiching a crunched-up club night flyer between fishnet leggings, and ruby-red Tabi stilettos. What followed were looks that amalgamated the tropes of Americana – flannels, twee prom silhouettes, Hawaiian floral prints, Cadillac colours, cowboy jackets, even Mickey Mouse (courtesy of a collab with Disney) — through the distinctly British lens of punk motifs and make-do-and-mend couture techniques.
As always, Galliano experimented with decortiqué – the technique of cutting a garment to its structural core, to create what the house described as its new ‘Rorschach’ cutting, borrowing from the psychological term of subjective perceptions of the same image. You see, not everything was as it seemed. American Western yokes become pareidolic illusions of the ears of Mickey Mouse, while dramatic opera and swing coats came in unexpected materials with caricaturish bows, bondage straps at the back. Layers of tulle transparencies — many of which in stars-and-stripes blue and red— revealed the intricate process of each garment, the fantasy of the character only deepened by the sight of inner workings. Shirts were worn backwards, skirts appeared twisted, fishnets seemed to be yanked over layers in haste. The ghosts of yesteryear’s couture silhouettes were ostensibly shredded through the bricolage of club kids, cowboys, and childhood nostalgia.
Suffice it to say, there was a lot to look at — so many innovative techniques and layers of clothing, which were sometimes actually a single garment — that it’s difficult to describe, but incredible to observe.
Which is what made the show spectacular. It was by no means a huge production — especially compared to shows staged by brands its size — but it simply adhered to a straightforward fashion show format, a display of clothes that could do without distractions. Models showed character in their walks, clutching their sorbet-coloured handbags as though in a rush to get somewhere, pacing it to a thumping techno soundtrack that repeated over and over: “This is The Future”. There was incredible and innovative workmanship on display that would put some of the largest couture houses to shame. Most of all, though, there was a palpable sense of the joy that Galliano has when dreaming up his fantasies, and how much he loves the transformative power of clothing. Though this show may have technically been ready-to-wear, it felt like the work of a true couturier, albeit brimming with the kind of youthful, forward-looking energy that so rarely comes from a designer around as long as he has been. I’ll say it again: John Galliano is the master of us all.
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Images courtesy of Spotlight.