About two weeks ago, over lunch at The Odeon, a card-carrying member of the Balenciaga Industrial Complex told me to watch out for “sprinkles” of Demna Gvasalia at the upcoming Gucci Resort Show. I wasn’t exactly sure what this meant, and I’m not sure if they did either. But, then again, why wouldn’t the brand’s incoming artistic director (who is bound to boost both sales numbers and industry opinion) at least throw a little zhuzh onto this studio-designed collection?
However, as I began to hear this rumor from more and more of fashion’s peanut gallery—the types of people who confidently pronounced “Hedi to Armani” “Hedi to Chanel” “Hedi to Gucci” over brand dinners across the world with no direct contact with any of the decision-makers—the less I began to believe it. Why would a seasoned executive (and, btw, creative directors are executives) put in hours off the clock? And why would he do so in service of an uncredited, off-calendar collection that could only serve to spoil the surprise of his highly anticipated debut? How would this sprinkling even go down? Was there a Zoom call where the incoming boss would dictate “make that hoodie bigger” with a legion of atelier members dutifully taking notes? And isn’t the man busy designing his swan song Balenciaga Couture collection that debuts just six weeks from now?
I had many doubts. But the conspiracy theory that Demna’s invisible hand was hovering over this Cruise show was so juicy that I had no choice but to fly to Florence and search for clues. And now that I have witnessed the show first-hand (and inhaled all the gossip before and after) I have four theories about what actually happened. To be honest, I’m still not sure which to believe.
Theory 1: The Sprinkles
Even the most skeptical among us would have to admit that there were indeed Demna-esque qualities to things in the collection. Gestures like the fur coat in Look 14, donned flasher-style with no clothing under it and a highlighter-pink sandal had an especially Gvasalian attitude. The flowy belted dresses in Look 3 and 10 contained whiffs of his early Balenciaga granny-core. But perhaps the most postmodern, Demna-ed out detail in the show was the running shoe in Look 29, which was crushed into being a mule at the back, a distinctly unceremonious and postmodern take on beachy resort-wear. To many after the show, these sprinkles (and there were more) felt undeniably and distinctly dropped from the hand of Gucci’s future artistic director.
Theory 2: The Kiss-Up
As a member of the design office, what better way to kiss up to your prospective boss than to flex that you’ve done your homework. And, not only that, to preemptively share ideas on how to Demna-pill the codes of Gucci? This may very well be the case, since most of the Demna-esque details looked more like winks to the designer’s back catalogue than new strokes of genius. So either Demna is saving all of his new game for the debut, or these traces of his aesthetic are homages from those who are currently looking for a golden ticket into his good graces.
Theory 3: The False Flag
You can’t have a good conspiracy without a false flag. So maybe it’s worth looking further up the ladder than the atelier at what might be going on here. What if the rumor that Demna was secretly involved in the show were a psyop leaked by Gucci itself? It would be a great way to raise the stakes around what is otherwise a quiet collection ahead of a future blockbuster. It might also be a genius way to better merchandise a collection that will likely be hitting stores after Demna’s real debut. Was hosting the show in the Gucci archives—and putting on a wonderful exhibition on its design history in its hometown— a way of throwing us off the scent and saying, “This is about house codes. We promise there’s nothing from our future happening here.”? Or is that exactly what the powers that be want us to not to think? Let’s put our tinfoil hats on just in case.
Theory 4: Fashion Derangement Syndrome
When you think about this topic (and write about it) long enough, the most likely scenario is that we are all crazy. After years of following the creative director merry-go-round, following theory after theory, announcement after announcement, until anything becomes believable, we are now subject to Fashion Derangement Syndrome, a condition in which fashion cannot be enjoyed without insider intrigue. And to make matters worse, nowadays anyone with an Instagram can consider themselves an “insider.” Perhaps the most refreshing thought I had while enjoying the Gucci Cruise collection was the notion that good clothes could be made by mere people with good ideas, and not be the oeuvre of a sacred creative deity. Is Demna’s hand in here somewhere? Maybe the answer to the question is that we need to shut up and just decide whether we like the clothes.