Months have gone since Balenciaga's A/W 22 runway that entered the history of fashion as the "snowstorm show" that featured models battling the elements in a snow-filled arena. Originally a show about climate change, it was then turned into a tribute to refugees and in particular to Ukrainian people battling the elements to flee their country as the Russian invasion had just started.
Seven months have gone since that show and the war continues in Ukraine, while Vladimir Putin's nuclear threats prompted US President Joe Biden to warn about "the prospect of Armageddon". In the meantime, the snow didn't turned into slosh on Balenciaga's S/S 23 runway (that took place last Sunday during Paris Fashion Week), but into real thick mud (275 cubic meters from a French peat bog, to be precise), an installation courtesy of Spanish artist Santiago Serra. To make the experience more real, Demna Gvasalia also had a custom-made scent designed by his collaborator Sissel Tolaas. The "mud show" invitation was instead a lost wallet, complete of ID, credit cards, gym cards and a grocery receipt.
Ye, formerly known as Kanye West, opened the show in a security outfit that comprised leather biker pants reinforced at the knees, an oversized jacket, baseball cap and a logo mouthguard (tragicomically hilarious - will we see this luxury mouthguard shielding the teeth of wealthy fashionistas in the event of a nuclear apocalypse?). Apart from the grotesque effect caused by the whole ensemble that seemed to engulf him, the most disturbing thing about Ye (well, this event took place a day before his rant and the "White Lives Matter" shirt mess, so this was the most disturbing thing about him before the annoying Yeezy show…) was that he sported make up that made him look as if he had been punched in the face.
Then it was the turn of models in baggy and shredded jeans worn low on the hips to reveal underwear with Balenciaga-logo waistbands. Hoodies, oversized nylon jackets and sweatshirts with matching running shorts were at times accessorized with semi-destroyed and dirty teddy bear-shaped bags.
As the models walked, mud splashed against their ankles, sneakers, sandals and flats, soaking the hem of evening dresses like a red pleated silk gown or a furry acid green dress that was the "glamorous" version of a green coat Gvasalia designed for the Kurt Cobain-inspired character in the Royal Opera House production of "Last Days" (with a libretto written by the artist Matt Copson and the experimental composer Oliver Leith), opening today at London's Linbury Theatre (View this photo; Balenciaga did 8 costumes for the members of the cast; it is only natural to wonder how long we will have to wait for a re-edition of Mark Ravenhill's "Shopping and Fucking" with costumes by Balenciaga taken from this collection...).
Among the other accessories there were spiralling scarves that looked like those novelty draught excluders you may spot on Aliexpress (well, this may be a successful accessory with a double purpose, you may indeed also use it to insulate your room and save on the heating bills...); baby carriers with the fashion house logo complete with lifelike baby dolls inside (worn by dads in bomber jackets, ripped jeans, trench coats and ballet slippers); insect sunglasses that some of us may have spotted at a rave in the early '90s; a rectangular leather tote bag that was reminiscent of Pierre Cardin’s classic rectangular bag with a round arm hole (also copied by Tom Ford) with a gauntlet-like sleeve attached and Dutch wooden clogs in their glitter or brightly coloured rubber version, for that fetish-meets-folk touch.
Most models also wore Balenciaga's mouthguards, but unfortunately for them the offending item didn't show that well in photos, and they looked as if they had their mouths opened in a mysterious stupor.
The show closed with a model in a gown made of cut-up Balenciaga Lariat handbags: the technique was reminiscent of something from Margiela's Artisanal collection, while the final effect was a bit Edward Scissorhands-meets-Frankenstein's monster.
Gvasalia is almost unanimously considered as a genius in today's fashion scene, but this show posed some problems: like Balenciaga's distressed sneakers that seemed to imply that poverty is appealing, the models stomped on the runway like renegades or outcasts living in a dystopian post-nuclear world complete with make-up reproducing beat-up faces. This was a bit too much in our times and in a world where people get tortured, beaten and killed on an everyday basis.
Just like Balenciaga's tattered and faux-distressed shoes felt like selling poverty to people who can afford buying into it because they don't have to be afraid of becoming poor, you got the feeling that the apocalyptic look was not a genuine tribute to people suffering, but a way to sell a luxurious version of the disenfranchised look (that, comprising the usual massive trainers, jeans and hoodies is becoming tiringly repetitive…) to those wealthy enough to buy it.
According to Gvasalia, luxury doesn't have to be polished, but it can be distressed, and while that's understandable, this runway vision of distressed luxury can be interpreted in an offensive way. Balenciaga has indeed turned in the last few years into a luxury fashion house producing garments for people who pretend they are on the front lines of a battle, but never fought any battles in their lives, never went to bed hungry and never worked long hours for a pittance. In a nutshell, this is fashion not for all those lying in the gutter but looking at the stars, to paraphrase Oscar Wilde, but for the very few who are pretending to lie in the gutter (or in the mud in this case).
But there were some good news at the show as well: Gvasalia announced in a letter left on each seat that he will not be explaining his collections from the next season. So, from now on, fashion commentators may have to decode his messages and interpret his visions without copying his press releases.
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