In case it wasn’t evident from the giant sculptures that formed the centrepiece of the dim-lit venue, Chanel’s latest show was all about the camellia. It’s the flower that Gabrielle ‘Coco’ Chanel was first given in a bouquet by her polo-playing lover, Boy Capel, and made its way onto the lapels of her tailoring exactly a century ago, in 1923. You may recognise it from the packaging of Chanel’s black shopping bags and boxes, or upon closer inspection, from the silk linings and gold buttons of its tweed suits. It’s one of those mythological Cocoisms that the fashion house has built an alphabet from — bouclé tweeds, quilted leather bags, monochrome, ropes of costume jewellery, two-tone pumps, the number five — and it was the latest strain of that illustrious lexicon that Virginie Viard chose to focus on, blowing it up to towering heights and honing in on the delicacy of each of its 25 petals. “The camellia is more than a theme, it’s an eternal code of the House,” explained Virginie in a statement, apparently before confiding, with a smile: “I find it reassuring and familiar, I like its softness and its strength”.
The show commenced with the sculptures becoming screens for a film specially made by photography duo Ines & Vinoodh, starring the Japanese actress Nana Komatsu in a Peggy Moffit-inspired look. It set the tone for a Sixties-ish collection, which had some of its strongest looks in the opening sequence. The show opened with Chanel’s classic monochrome tweeds updated with the graphic camelia prints on windowpane checks. A double-breasted Beatnik-black leather trench soon followed, with lapels adorned with gothic leather camellias, as well as an abbreviated patent-black suit, both of which suggested a darker side to Chanel’s typically floral notes of femininity. Black and white, graphic and bold, dark and brooding — this collection felt like an ode to the way that Parisian women wear lots of black. Except, it didn’t fall into stereotypes — in fact, it got dotty with classic black LBJs (little black jackets) peppered with crisp-white mismatched camellias, almost like graphic polka dots, and fluffy angora sweaters quivering with marabou renditions of the flower. The camellia was omnipresent. Zoom into almost any look, and you’ll find it there, dangling as chain pendants, as miniture buttons or on bows on pumps, even as resin minaudieres and blink-and-you’ll-miss it black fil-coupé details on midnight-black dresses.
The timing of this collection is prescient. In May, the Met Museum in New York will be opening its Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty exhibition, and in September, the Victoria & Albert Museum in London will open the Gabrielle Chanel: Fashion Manifesto exhibition that was first on display at the Palais Galliera in Paris a couple of years ago. Both will shine a light on Chanel’s past, both early and more recent, so you can understand why Virginie wanted to assert her vision of Chanel, not Karl’s or Coco’s. What exactly is that? It seems to be less strict than her predecessors and far less extreme, perhaps a bit more free-flowing and eccentric as one as would expect from a house known for its buttoned-up primness. Case in point: the slightly off-kilter Bermuda shorts that were worn throughout, layered over paper-white lace tights, and the softness of silk skirts and flounced dresses layered over knitwear, coats worn open and oversized as if just flung on, all contributing to what Chanel describes as a “bohemian spirit that drives [Virginie].” Sometimes, it can feel almost feel experimental, intentionally mismatched as a way of shaking up a house whose heritage we know perhaps a little too well.
Come winter, this collection — like the flower it is inspired by — will come into bloom as easy-to-wear separates that will no doubt be snapped up by Chanel superfans. However, they should take note from the way it’s all put together; Chanel looks best when it’s off-piste.
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Images courtesy of Spotlight