Haute couture may be the fusty dinosaur of fashion, but on Monday in Paris things definitely weren’t dull. Least of all on the gossip front where two shows had everyone talking: one, Dior, for rumors of the imminent arrival of Valentino designer Maria Grazia Chiuri; two, Brioni, where street style magnet Justin O’Shea presented his first show. Not many got to go to it — a baffling move in an haute couture week that hosted a Vetements show the day before and had the crème of editors in town as a result. Apparently O’Shea — a former miner from Perth turned truck driver turned personal trainer turned showroom manager turned buying director for MyTheresa, and now creative director for Brioni — wanted to go the exclusive route, inviting mainly friends and no doubt some foes, too. It’s the divisiveness that comes with the spotlight, or rather the flashing light, in an industry where anyone with a beard and a suit can become a target for street style photographers, but few can design a collection that lives up the historically so discreet and refined elegance of Brioni.
O’Shea, of course, doesn’t design. He made that clear in ten clips released to the brand’s Instagram in the hours leading up to the show, some of which tackled the industry’s prejudices towards him as a creative director (him playing with toy cars at his desk), some poking fun of his egomania (him talking about covering the Eiffel Tower in a banner with his name). Last week, O’Shea’s first campaign for the brand revealed some of his intentions. It featured Metallica in some tailoring shot in black and white and a new Brioni logo in a gothic typeface that looked very inspired by Vetements. O’Shea used to buy that brand for MyTheresa and the whole Brioni circus on Monday seemed to draw on the genius marketing template invented by Demna and Guram Gvasalia, only without the Vetements brothers’ innate design and business talents in the handbag. Like Vetements he had a tight guest list, an Instagram-friendly show and a keen sense of humor. Unlike Vetements, he forgot to invite the style press who does all the Instragramming and get that sense of humor.
But in fashion elitism can be as important as attention, and O’Shea certainly ticked those two boxes. His show was inspired by the Dracula film from the early 90s, by Van Helsing and by rock stars. It materialized in foppish tailoring the way O’Shea likes it, like something straight out of the Pitti menswear fair in Florence where bearded tailoring fans peacock around in tight blazers, cropped trousers, and novelty ankle socks. But there was also something for the rappers, or at least the nouveau riche Russian business moguls who’ve adopted their former signature swag: how about a floor-length chinchilla coat, as modeled by O’Shea himself when he came out for his big bow? It wasn’t just a display of power (it takes something like six chinchillas to get one useable pelt), but of the fact that fashion now is a free-for-all where you can do whatever you want as long as you have the backing, even if it goes against the fragile legacy of a heritage brand.
The total opposite was exercised at Dior where the understated but incredibly good-looking Lucie Meier and Serge Ruffieux put on the kind of couture show that made you want to sit in those Dior salons for days. They have been substitute designers since Raf Simons left the house, and if reports are true they’ll soon have a new creative director above them in the shape of Valentino’s Maria Grazia Chiuri. Rumor has it the announcement will be made after her couture show for that house on Wednesday evening, and judging by the situation after the Dior show — “no interviews, greetings only” — something is definitely up in the hallowed halls of Avenue Montaigne. Meier and Ruffieux could of course decide to leave Dior amidst the changes, and after this couture show any old house in Paris should be so lucky to have them. Contrary to their cruise show in June, which flexed a more experimental muscle, this was the epitome of beautiful, elegant, pared-down Dior. Some would say old-fashioned, but there’s room for that in haute couture.
It was the quintessence of good taste, the way Monsieur Dior intended it, rooted in his Bar jacket, which shape-shifted into sculptural tops with delicate embellishment. Blacks, whites, and gold dominated throughout, like some stripped-down statement of simplicity. It was Meier and Ruffieux laying bare their talent — for both craftsmanship and the ability to interpret the legacy of a house. Over the past six months at Dior they haven’t had a chance to show the public their personal aesthetics, and it hasn’t been their job either. Instead, they’ve handled the difficult task of killing time before the arrival of a new creative director with total grace and sophistication. They are a class act, and one we’ll hopefully see more of in the future. Couture client Celine Dion, looking fabulous front row in a summer glove, would doubtlessly agree, although the Roman slimline gowns Maria Grazia Chiuri has perfected at Valentino seem made for her slender stature. If rumors are true and Chiuri is going to Dior, Justin O’Shea will get some serious competition on the haute couture schedule.
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Text Anders Christian Madsen