Irenebrination: Notes on Architecture, Art, Fashion, Fashion Law, Science & Technology

A Schiaparalien in the Narrative Void: Schiaparelli Haute Couture S/S 24

While Elsa Schiaparelli was in her teens, advancements in various fields, including audio recordings, motion pictures, transportation and communication, were taking place. In Palmer White's book, "Elsa Schiaparelli: Empress of Paris Fashion," the author recounts how the designer was fascinated by bicycling and motor-racing while growing up and also developed an interest in the passion of the Futurists for the Machine Age. In later years this theme was translated in designs for a dynamic woman favouring physical activities and sports, but also in an interest in modern materials.

When she visited the United States in 1919, Schiaparelli was also impressed by the new technologies, the objects and gadgets of modern daily life. Compared to the United States where the technological future was already happening in the present, Europe, in her opinion, was outdated. As the years passed, Schiaparelli's futuristic convictions and her fascination with the speed of new means of transport, from cars to airplanes, informed her "Display No. 1". Showcased in 1927, this collection of knitwear, separates and accessories, was indeed characterized by simple lines, bold forms and strong colours, geometrical abstractions and futuristic treatments.

Fast-forward to last week when, at Paris Haute Couture Week, Daniel Roseberry presented his take on Schiaparelli's own fascination with machines and the future. There were also other inspirations, from hints to Hollywood films, with references to horses, a theme tackled by Schiaparelli in the '30s (which is rapidly turning into a trend for the next seasons).

According to Roseberry, memories distinguish human beings from machines: the unique blend of memories, almost a sort of DNA code embedded in a fashion house, produces something unique and original that, dissected and re-analysed, can point at different inspirations and ideas (yet that can be said of Artificial Intelligence too…a prompt in a text-to-image application can indeed produce a new image composed from bits and pieces - "memories" the system was trained upon - chewed, digested and regurgitated).

This inspiration generated the motherboard dress encrusted with technological detritus from the '90s to the early 2000s, from mobile flip phones to a Casio calculator, interspersed with faux gems, CDs and a computer fan instead of a breast.

Rather than a way to show how circuits can be recycled like artists have been doing for at least a decade (think about artist Steven Rodrig's e-waste sculptures View this photo), the gown redefined the sensual gynoid's body, usually conceived as a male fantasy, into a magnet for retro techno-electronic trash. The design was a way for the designer to react to people on social media who have been experimenting with Schiaparelli's collections and remixing them via AI, something that pushed back Roseberry to the prehistoric times of technology. In a way, though, it came out as the couture version of something you may see at the World of Wearable Art (WOW) competition, minus the fun of the WOW creations (motherboard circuits already appeared in designs by a luxury house - in Louis Vuitton's A/W 18 collection, that included designs with Western/technological references, there were handbags and totes printed with computer motherboard circuits View this photo).

The assemblage of composite retro materials was also used to decorate a bedazzled toddler, an Artificial Intelligence inspired tech baby carried by Maggie Maurer wearing an off-white tank top in rubbed jersey, inside out couture cargo pants (vaguely hinting at Schiaparelli's "Cash & Carry" collection), horsehair appliqued stripes and cowboy boots with embossed pierced ears. Her look was a tribute to Sigourney Weaver as Ripley in "Alien" (shame the baby conjured up in many of us memories of Frank Ocean at the 2021 Met Gala carrying an alien baby with a radioactive complexion, looks like the rule is still valid - when in doubt, always accessorise the collection with kids - human, alien or robotic is always fine…).

The collection was actually entitled "Schiaparalien", a word that also highlighted Elsa's fascination with technology and astrology (her uncle Giovanni Schiaparelli, the director of the Brera Observatory in Milan, discovered a series of channels scoring the surface of Mars; according to the collection press release, he also coined the term "martian") and Roseberry's fascination with the film "Alien". The latter introduced the Hollywood glamour theme, exemplified also by the soundscape combining "Alien" and "Oppenheimer".

For these gowns Roseberry was inspired by the sculptural constructions of Charles James and the volumes of Cristóbal Balenciaga, but also by a show of Azzedine Alaïa’s private collection of vintage Haute Couture garments that he saw at the Palais Galliera fashion museum (that inspired him the neutral color palette for the collection).

This section included draped and knotted gowns, a fringed version of the skeleton dress (but the bone theme was also clear in the exoskeleton necklace that formed a protruding spine evoking H. G. Giger's aliens) and a bulbous pink duchesse satin puffball dress with an asymmetrical black sweep that seemed to counterbalance the rigidity of the other designs.

One evening gown with a keyhole cut-out on the torso, completely covered the model from head to toe with cascades of pearlescent petals. The design evoked a Fall 1938 evening cape in white and aquamarine silk organdy petals from the Pagan collection. The item in question was inspired by mythological figures and by Ovid's "Metamorphoses" and featured petals sewn individually onto gauze that transformed the wearer into a creature half-tree, half-human chimera calling to mind the myth of Philemon and Baucis with Daphne transformed into a laurel tree.

Among the Hollywood references there were also hints at Westerns, cowboys and horses. Roseberry may be a fan of "Westworld", but he also hails from Texas, hence the embroidered bandana motif and the thigh-high cowboy boots.

Besides, horses also appeared in Schiap's "Prancing Horses" bolero ("Circus" collection, 1938) and in her "Bucking Bronco" beaded waistcoat (View this photo and View this photo) inspired by her 1940 trip to Texas (auctioned at Christie's over ten years ago). In this collection horses were absorbed into the designs rather than replicated as embroideries: models donned black asymmetrical jackets in openwork wool crepe, cropped jackets and bombers with three-dimensional silk satin knotted spikes inspired by dressage braids (speaking of movies, that wouldn't have looked out of place in the wardrobe of Pinhead out of "Hellraiser"…), with long tails attached to the garment. Zendaya's outfit was to be filed under the equestrian theme in this collection.

Further Western inspirations (there seems to be a Western trend as well, if we consider also Pharrell Williams' Western-inspired A/W 24 menswear collection for Louis Vuitton…) materialized as long fringes, tassels and cowboy-inspired belt buckles forming a corset and a mini-skirt or used to construct the sleeves of a biker jacket and decorate the sides of a pair of pants. Other elements from Schiaparelli's codes, including keyholes and measuring tape, were scattered here and there, in the jewelry and accessories.

Roseberry is credited with successfully embodying these surrealist and whimsical house codes through a modern lens, and carrying on the legacy of Elsa Schiaparelli by combining classic techniques (over-embroidered guipure laces, velvet and lace appliqués) with new shapes, patterns, and references.

As announced earlier on this week, he is also set to receive the 2024 Neiman Marcus Award for Creative Impact in the Field of Fashion, celebrating his "unrivaled creativity and craftsmanship and bridging art with fashion" (the award echoes the recognition bestowed in 1940 upon Elsa Schiaparelli – the Neiman Marcus Award for Distinguished Service in the Field of Fashion). For Texas-born Roseberry, Neiman Marcus, being based in Dallas, holds significance.  

But, if you knew Schiap's lexicon, you would get the impression that at times the designer played more on exaggerating (or exasperating) certain codes than on reinventing them. At times, Roseberry creates rigid armours that cage and trap women, while Schiaparelli was more about transmitting the idea of armour via print, or maybe employing an unsetting element (such as insects). 

An in-depth knowledge of the house codes will allow you to realise that the opening black shiny vinyl look with a white collar is the fetish re-edition of a dress with a white crocheted collar Schiap wore in 1940 in a Vogue photoshoot (View this photo); a black liquid gown with a matching veil seemed to reproduce the silhouette of the Tear Dress, minus the surrealist print; the oversized bell-shaped sleeves evoked memories of a silk satin taffeta gown with a large sculpted sleeve from Winter 1952-53, while a Fall 1949 bustier by Schiap with a vertical construction was reinterpreted in Roseberry's by now trademark rigid bustiers that hide the wearer's face in his collections for Schiaparelli. 

What remains puzzling about Roseberry's collections for Schiaparelli is the lack of a precise narrative that anchors the pieces. You can tell a story in a myriad of ways and pepper it along the way with references to the past and the archives, but you must still own the story and employ solid narrative points that help you developing the different threads into a coherent plot.

Roseberry seems focused on creating highly crafted pieces derived from Schiap's lexicon, but you get the felling that the story is developed afterwards almost to justify what he designed (remember Dante's allegory of the three beasts that seemed a last-minute excuse to justify the lion, leopard and wolf evening gowns on Schiaparelli's S/S 23?).

Another puzzling situation is the fact that Schiaparelli's modern collections seem to have lost the fun and irony of its founder. Schiaparelli was arty and surrealist, but also very ironic. Aside from a beaded gown with a questionable trompe l'oeil motif of a man's briefs (View this photo), here irony was missing. Schiaparelli's new woman is so much into art that is risking of turning into a sculpture, a static statue; she doesn't smile and often hides behind gowns in which the bodice has turned into an oversized metal frame covered in lace or in rigid panels with the suppleness of a Coromandel screen. Well, who knows, maybe the 1% of the global population of this world that can afford Haute Couture is deeply serious and unhappy, so maybe they're into these highly crafted yet at times oppressive styles.

Up to this point, Roseberry has successfully transformed Schiaparelli into an Instagram sensation and reinstated its status as a popular choice on the red carpet. 

However, beyond the initial 24 hours post-show when Instagram users share their preferred images of the designs and the front-row celebrities (Zendaya, Hunter Schafer, and Jennifer Lopez in this case), analyzing a collection, expressing admiration or criticism, and browsing through numerous red carpet pictures featuring celebrities adorned in Roseberry's creations, Schiaparelli lacks a compelling raison d'être.

In a nutshell, there is currently no fragrance or makeup line capable of significantly boosting revenue and attracting a less affluent yet passionate market to the Schiaparelli brand. Perhaps, in the future, we may witness reissues of Schiap's most iconic fragrances paired with a striking shocking pink lipstick. Until then, Roseberry might consider exploring the transformation of the brand's rigid armors into softer and more wearable garments. Schiaparelli's original pieces often exuded a soft and fluid appearance, providing protection through distinctive prints and surreal motifs, rather than confining wearers behind stiff screens and cylindrical structures.

Rooted in Surrealist Styles

In our previous post, we explored designs inspired by hair (and hairs), moving from Givenchy's A/W 24 menswear collection that also included coats and pants embellished with stiff horsehair.

Another recent collection embracing body-sprouting elements is Jacquemus' S/S 24, showcased yesterday at the Fondation Maeght (the building was designed by architect Josep Lluís Sert) in Saint-Paul-de-Vence in the South of France, and celebrating the brand's 15th anniversary.

Models strutted amidst sculptures by Alberto Giacometti and Joan Miró, donning designs that may have been filed under the normcore or quiet luxury attire.

However, closer inspection revealed arty details, such as faux twin sets and shoes featuring trompe l'oeil double heels in contrasting colors and patterns (leopard and fuchsia; black and white or python and yellow View this photo).

The elongated jersey column dresses complemented Giacometti's figures, while round sleeves of coats and jackets (evoking the shapes favoured by Daniel Roseberry at Schiaparelli) and amplified waistbands nodded at his "Femme Cuillère" (Spoon Woman) sculpture.

Surrealism took center stage with suits and dresses sprouting black horse-like tails, possibly signaling a trendy equestrian theme for the upcoming season.

Jacquemus describes his designs as "pop luxury", that is luxury pieces that still embrace wrong and humorous elements, as proved by the asymmetries in his designs and the Surrealist details, such as stand-away collars.

That said, in fashion the concept of elements that sprout from the clothes isn't new: Cinzia Ruggeri's "Abito Muretto" (Wall Dress; S/S 1983) featured, on a background print of a stonewall, appliqued flowers in plastic tubes and lizards, and the stonewall print was also replicated on a skirt suit with grass sprouting from the jacket and the skirt.

A few years later, Cinzia Ruggeri introduced a glove that sprouted vivid green blades of grass, suggesting an inner energy force in the wearer and maybe nodding at Ovid's "Metamorphoses", a concept she expanded in 2019 in a mosaic representing a hand wearing her glove and sprouting blades of grass.

The three-dimensional mosaic was featured in the exhibition "La règle du jeu?". The inspiration behind this exhibition came from Jean Renoir's 1939 eponymous film, revolving around the experiences of record-breaking aviator André Jurieux.

The mosaic of the glove alludes to the metamorphosis experienced by André, transitioning from human to plant, with the transformative journey commencing from the gloves themselves.

Hair or blades of grass sprouting from clothes can carry a profound meaning: while they create a surreal and dynamic aura around the wearer's body, they hint at the notions of life regeneration and mutation, offering a visual representation of the forces within us, and of our transformative potential.

Moreover, these garments or art pieces sprouting elements serve a dual purpose, they extend the human body into space, inviting others to reach out to the wearer and maybe touch the garments donned by them; at the same time, they also create a barrier, keeping people at a symbolic distance. Whether a metaphor for personal transformation or a creative approach to physical distancing, these elements add therefore a layer of depth and meaning to fashion and self-expression.

Fashioning Illusions: Surrealist Roots

In Palmer White's book, "Elsa Schiaparelli: Empress of Paris Fashion," the author recounts a moment in 1932 when Daisy Fellowes, in a Schiaparelli satin evening gown adorned with prints of poodles, brightened up the premiere of Kurt Jooss's ballet "The Green Table" at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées.

White doesn't tell us more about this design, so we're not sure if it featured a matching head piece. Yet, during the 1930s, Schiaparelli often accessorised her designs (including her iconic 1938 Tear Dress) with veils and headscarves. The Philadelphia Museum of Art preserves in its archives a white veil by Schiaparelli with an intricate motif of long beaded wavy hair embroidered by Lesage, resembling a wig (the same motif was employed by the current creative director Daniel Roseberry for a white shirt with embroidered golden locks in Schiaparelli's S/S 23 collection - View this photo).

In recent times, Japanese hair artist, head prop designer, and wig maker Tomihiro Kono, has recreated this effect. Kono often applies wavy locks in vibrant or pastel hues on white or nude tulle, allowing wearers to creatively don the wigs, on the head or on the body, creating in this way optical illusions and a glamorous allure.

The theme of wavy locks and optical illusions resurfaced on Givenchy's menswear runway in January.  Among the designs showcased at Givenchy's historic George V couture salons there were two humorous silk scarves printed with two different motifs of hand-drawn hairstyles, curly locks and braids. The hair theme also reappeared in the stiff horsehair embellished coats and pants and in one jacket that featured a decorative motif reminiscent of swirling hair.

The collection borrowed heavily from its founder Hubert de Givenchy, but it was designed by a team after creative director Matthew M. Williams exited the brand last year (also the quirky cat print was borrowed from the house's archive).

Men wearing silky scarves is not a novel concept, as this trend made appearances on other runways in recent years, such as Gucci's by Alessandro Michele.

In much the same way, hair printed scarves are not a novel concept: a few years ago, Tilda Swinton was photographed in a similar scarf by Givenchy (View this photo), yet the scarves seen at Givenchy's menswear show  originally date back to 1953 and they were probably derived from Schiaparelli's veil.

Before launching his own fashion house in 1952, Hubert de Givenchy had indeed previously worked for Schiaparelli and had therefore absorbed elements of Surrealism from her, contributing to the evolution of this thematic inspiration.

Along the years other brands embraced the "hair scarf" trend: Hermès for example produced a scarf with two diverse hairstyles that provided the wearers with more versatile options. 

In the last few days we also witnessed a resurgence of hairs (rather than just hair...) in fashion: Maison Margiela's Artisanal S/S 24 collection by John Galliano featured models in see-through tulle gowns. They looked naked underneath, but in reality they were wearing a tulle bodysuit with a trick: human pubic hairs were "embroidered" onto silk tulle to create a merkin (a pubic hair wig - an item forgotten by history, but, after Galliano's show, all over Instagram...). But we will maybe look at this inspiration more in-depth in another post.

Returning to hair we can add that they can assume different meanings, even political ones: patriarchal cultures ask women to cover their hair as a way to control their bodies. And while long attractive tresses point at female sexuality, cutting one's hair can be a sign of protest, anger or mourning as seen during the protests in Iran; discarded hair trigger instead a sort of repulsion in the viewer.

Artist Mona Hatoum often employed hair and pubic hairs as well in her works to address issues from gender to nationalism: in her surrealist work "Jardin Public" (1993) a metal chair sprouts a pubic triangle from its seat; in her work "Keffieh" (1993-1999), the traditional head scarf worn by men in the Middle East is deconstructed and the black threads are substituted with hair. Here surrealism turns political in a final gesture that turns a scarf into a head scarf that ends up exposing hair rather than hiding them.

Hair (and hairs as well...) remains therefore a lasting source of inspiration in the world of design, its multifaceted significance persisting across various creative domains, from making a fashion statement to conveying political symbolism, or serving as a canvas for surreal artistic expression.

Sunday Inspiration: Labanotation

We recently looked at Kurt Jooss' The Green Table, the first ballet fully notated using Labanotation. This system for recording human movement originated by Hungarian-born dance theorist and researcher Rudolf Laban.

Learning more about it can provide us with inspirations in different creative disciplines that involve body movement: Labanotation is indeed a non-verbal way to describe, classify and note down any form of human movement.

Actually, this wasn't the very first method to record choreographies and dance movements. Two manuscripts from the latter half of the 15th century, preserved in Spain, provide an early attempt at recording movement. Despite subsequent systems, Labanotation is considered modern and efficient, as it allows for the recording of patterns of movements rather than individual motions. It operates indeed like an alphabet, with symbols representing movement components to create a comprehensive pattern.

Laban originally studied architecture and philosophy in Paris, but then developed an interest in the performing arts. His architectural studies played a pivotal role in his analysis of the spatial structure of movement. In 1926, Laban introduced a shorthand system for his theories in "Choreographie," subsequently developing the concept further in the 1928 book "Schrifttanz" ("Written Dance"). This work laid the foundation for his Labanotation system.

In standard Labanotation, a vertical three-line staff represents the performer's body. The center line denotes the body's central axis, while the lines on the left and right represent the main body parts. The staff is read from bottom to top.

Movement for legs and feet is notated within the three-line staff, while movement for the torso, arms, and head is recorded beyond the outer staff lines. Additional columns can be added to the staff for more space. Direction symbols indicate forward, backward, left/right side, left/right forward diagonal, and left/right backward diagonal. Shading in a direction symbol signifies the level of movement - upward, downward, or horizontal. The length of movement symbols indicates the duration of each action.

Families of signs represent minor body parts, and additional symbols like pins and hooks denote details modifying the main action.

In the decade that followed, the system was refined, given a more universal basis, and developed to a high level by research practitioners in Germany, England, and the United States.

Albrecht Knust, a prominent German dancer, choreographer, and pedagogue, published "Das Handbuch der Kinetographie Laban" (The Manual of Kinetography Laban), between 1946 and 1950. However, Labanotation and Kinetography Laban took separate evolutionary paths in the 1930s through the 1950s, with Labanotation predominantly advancing in the United States and England, and Kinetography Laban in Germany and other European countries.

Due to their distinct trajectories, Kinetography Laban has remained largely unchanged since its inception, while Labanotation has evolved to meet new requirements.

Labanotation expanded to convey the motivation or meaning behind movements, while Kinetography Laban practitioners tend to work within the existing notation system, relying solely on spatial descriptions to articulate movement.

Institutions like the Dance Notation Bureau, founded in 1940 as a non-profit educational center for movement research and analysis, is committed to notation education within the dance community. 

Since the 1950s, Labanotation has been incorporated into dance studies at colleges and universities globally, with the Department of Dance at Ohio University offering various resources on the topic. Ongoing global development is facilitated by the International Council of Kinetography Laban, established in England in 1959, which convenes biennially to explore new ideas and applications.

Technology has actually helped the system: in the last few years computer-aided Labanotation programmes were developed, among the others Labanotation editors such as Labanotator and LabanWriter, the latter for Macintosh and developed by the Ohio State Department of Dance.

There have also been attempts at creating software useful for choreographers and dancers who do not have adequate knowledge in writing and/or reading written Labanotation language, in particular LabanDancer that turns Labanotation patterns into 3D human figure animations an LabanEditor (Download LabanEditor). Developed a while back by Ritsumeikan University, this interactive graphic editor for editing and writing Labanotation scores allowed the users to edit dance movements and display the Labanotation score via an animation of human body models in 3D graphical notation.

As some of these applications are not available anymore, hopefully there will be further researches along these lines and Artificial Intelligence (AI) will be used one day in this field to translate the symbols into more refined human figure choreographies. 

Laban's system is particularly intriguing for its unique connection with both architecture and life. Laban's passion for observing human interactions in various contexts, from the stage to the street, combined with his architectural background, guaranteed that his system had a spatial awareness that set it apart from others.

Labanotation has found application in recording physiotherapy exercises, and analyzing movements in sports like swimming and ice skating. Its use extends to zoological studies, and it has been employed to describe intricate movements such as the mating dance of a jumping spider or the flight patterns of birds.

In the context of fashion, Labanotation can be employed to create a choreography for models on a runway and maybe note down the movements in an essay accompanying the presentation notes or the press release.

Furthermore, the visual and graphic nature of Labanotation opens the door to more creative applications. Fashion designers might use Laban's symbols or dance notations as prints for garments or as patterns for knitwear.

Some dance notation patterns, as seen in the essay "On the Technological Conditions of the Representation of Movement: Dance Notation Systems & Annotation Practices as Gestures" (2018) by Danae Kleida, can be complex and visually captivating (the third and fourth images in this post are taken from this essay).

As Artificial Intelligence is not so precise yet when it comes to understanding the Labanotation symbols (as proved by my experiment with Midjourney at the end of this post that loooks more "Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" than Labanotation...) collaborating with a professional notator and a choreographer is a much better idea to enhance the creative process, offering a unique and inspiring fusion of fashion and movement.

This approach may actually offer a departure from the more superficial dance references in fashion collections (think pink tutus and ballerina shoes…) that generated the enduring ballet-core trend.

In previous seasons choreographers took center stage in fashion presentations, but utilizing Laban's system can bring a fresh and innovative dimension to the intersection of dance and fashion and you can learn more about Labanotation from the introductory notes on the Dance Notation Bureau site or in Ann Hutchinson Guest's book "Labanotation: The System of Analyzing and Recording Movement" (Routledge, 2005), which is a very approachable volume on the subject.

Anti-War Movement: The Relevance of Kurt Jooss' Ballet "The Green Table" (1932) in Our Times

In 2005, the United Nations General Assembly officially declared January 27th as International Holocaust Remembrance Day, dedicated to commemorating the victims of the Holocaust, a genocide in which six million Jews and numerous members of other minorities, were killed by Nazi Germany between 1933 and 1945. This year's remembrance day coincides with heightened tensions, witnessing a resurgence of anti-Semitism and ongoing wars, like the Israel-Gaza conflict, triggered by Hamas-led massacres in Israel last October that left some 1,200 dead and around 250 people taken hostage.

According to the UN, over 25,000 people died in the Gaza Strip after Israeli strikes launched in retaliation while 62,681 Palestinians have been injured so far.

On Friday the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague ordered Israel to "take all measures within its power" to desist from killing Palestinians, in accordance with the Genocide Convention, and to prevent and punish the incitement of genocide and enable the delivery of humanitarian aid.

Amidst this tense backdrop, art, particularly a ballet named "The Green Table" by Kurt Jooss (with music by Frederick Cohen), may offer inspiration.

Premiered in 1932 at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées for the "Concours international de chorégraphie" (International Competition of Choreography), the anti-war ballet addressed the futility of conflicts and foreshadowed the horrors of World War II. Jooss used the ballet to introduce politics to the stage. 

The performance unfolds in eight scenes, depicting various characters succumbing to Death in different circumstances, symbolizing the consequences of war.

The piece opens with a group of diplomats or politicians negotiating around a green baize covered table. They wear grotesque masks and discuss animatedly while moving with falsely polite grand gestures that call to mind the movements of the characters from the Commedia dell’Arte. These puppet-like figures dance on a musical background that sounds like a playful tango and that hints at comedy or light entertainment. Jooss' intent in this first scene was indeed showing the futility of all debates about peace. Towards the end of the scene, oblivious to the consequences of their actions and decisions, the indifferent and hypocritical men, pull out their guns; a bullet shoot signals a war declaration.

A statuesque figure then enters the stage: the attire of this figure - made up like a skeleton, wearing a helmet and performing almost robotic steps - immediately reveals us that this figure represents Death who becomes the protagonist of all the scenes that follow.

In the scene titled "The Farewells," the Standard Bearer calls men to enlist, witnessing their departure from families, leaving mothers and sweethearts behind. Simultaneously, the Profiteer, a figure sporting a bowler hat, acknowledges Death with a salute, indicating a familiarity between them.

Moving onto "The War," individuals succumb one after another, with the Profiteer entering to inspect the fallen bodies, searching for potential items to pilfer. In "The Refugees," Death encounters a group of women, inviting the Old Mother to dance with him.

Transitioning to "The Partisan," a woman fighting for freedom strikes a rear-guard soldier, but ultimately she succumbs to Death when captured. In "The Brothel," the Profiteer hands the Young Girl to other men, leading to a near rescue, but her beloved misses her, resulting in Death catching her and engaging in a duet.

"The Aftermath" sees the Standard Bearer finally succumbing, revealing his vulnerability. Death unites all victims, while the Profiteer escapes, clutching his bowler hat. As discussions around the green table resume, hinting at another war and more deaths, an endless cycle of despair unfolds. The sole victor in this narrative is Death, devoid of compassion and neutrality, and patiently waiting for his victims. 

The ballet, lasting less than 30 minutes, was subtitled "A dance of death in eight scenes". It is indeed inspired by the Medieval Danse Macabre tradition and it is divided in 8 tableaux. Death becomes everyone's partner, effectively seducing the other characters into his dance. At the end of the ballet they appear and dance in a linear formation lifted from the processional nature of "The Dance of Death".

In terms of costumes, the production incorporates intriguing elements. Hein Heckroth designed grotesque masks for diplomats: the masks help the dancers embodying their characters and turning into caricatures. This addition allowed Jooss to infuse a satirical twist into the choreography. For Death's costume, Heckroth introduced a modern approach featuring chest straps resembling ribs, a sort leather apron for a pelvis, and a dark-crested helmet highlighting Death's features. Accessories and props play a crucial role in character identification, with the flag representing hopeful soldiers, and a red dress paired with a white scarf symbolizing the partisan.

Regarding the choreography, Jooss was inspired by traditional ballet steps, including demi-pointe and arabesques. Yet no movements are executed on pointe, eliminating the traditional grace of ballet. Instead, the emphasis shifts to expression and gestures, with the position of the hands playing a significant role. The choreography is conceived more as a form of dance-theatre, evolving from a libretto (by Jooss himself).

Through the choreography, Jooss delivers a political statement. Each movement conveys a message imbuing every step with significance. Death's movements are characterized by triumphant, sharp and relentless steps as this character forcefully stamps people down. The choreography often includes a leg stretched sideways, extending Death's figure into the surrounding space, symbolizing a scythe. It is noteworthy that Jooss performed the role of Death himself, standing out in the depiction.

Jooss honed his innovative technique through his foundational education as a student and assistant to Hungarian-born dance theorist Rudolf Laban. Together they studied the relationship between space and the body, exploring how different movement qualities could reflect varying mental states and emotions. Notably, "The Green Table" stands out as the first work fully notated using Labanotation, a system originated by Laban for recording human movement.

This dramatic performance wields a terrifying power, addressing a multitude of themes within a brief duration - injustice, suffering, oppression, freedom, political corruption, militaristic policies, loneliness, and misery. Observing the futile peace negotiations within the performance you immediately think about the harsh realities of present-day conflicts, where the prioritization of power over people results in civilians paying the highest price, mirroring the characters in "The Green Table".

Over the decades, "The Green Table" has been frequently staged by various companies, including the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago (images 2 to 8 in this post are taken from their staging of the ballet in the mid-'40s, from the archives of The New York Public Library; at the end of the post you will find a video of the rehearsals for the 1967 Joffrey Ballet performance). The Dutch National Ballet also staged it often, choreographed by Jeanette Vondersaar who, as a dancer performed in the part of the partisan. Vondersaar collaborated on new renditions of the ballet with Anna Markard, Jooss's daughter, until Markard's passing.

Talking about The Green Table, Markard once stated that when her father created it, "most modern choreographers were interested in expressing themselves and searching for their personal individuality," her father instead "was interested in broader problems of society."

A new generation of choreographers should carry "The Green Table" into the future: it would actually be inspiring to see a global series of performances of this political ballet staged on the same day across different cities, emphasizing the human need to dance - rather than to fight - for peace.

Skin Deep: Exploring the Symbolism of Surreal Tear Designs in Fashion

In 1938, almost foreseeing the destruction that was to follow, Elsa Schiaparelli, in collaboration with Salvador Dalí, came up with an evening dress characterised by a surreal print. The silk crêpe gown (originally pale blue, even though now it appears to be off-white) was completed by a flowing, matching veil and long pink gloves that mimicked exposed skin (and that's another surreal element – the gloves looked like the skin, but, actually, they protected it…).

The printed pattern represented trompe-l'oeil tears, with a black tongue seemingly peeling off to reveal a pink layer. The accompanying head-scarf was genuinely torn, but also revealed underneath a layer of Schiaparelli's distinctive shocking pink.

Critics for years speculated on the gown's meaning: was the designer alluding to an attack on the wearer's body or on the garment itself? Did it symbolize torn fabric or a wounded body? Could it be considered as an artistic assault or an early precursor to punk fashion?

Answers remained elusive, but one certainty persisted: the distinctive print was a marginal design in Schiaparelli's output during that era.

Throughout the '90s Alexander McQueen shocked the fashion media and attracted hostile coverage with shows that featured instead bruised and battered models (graduate show, March 1993), models wearing clothes streaked with tyre marks as if they had been driven over ("The Birds", S/S 95), or wearing torn and tattered clothes as if they had been assaulted or raped ("Highland Rape", A/W 1995–96 and "Widows of Culloden", A/W 2006-7).

Called a misogynist, McQueen explained he actually wanted women to look stronger (besides, the torn lace and tartan in his collections also referenced to the eighteenth-century Jacobite Risings and the nineteenth-century Highland Clearances). If in the '90s McQueen was attacked for his ripped and torn dresses, you may also guess why Schiap's evening gown, combining an impression of vulnerability, violation and violence, didn't go down that well.

Yet, behind Schiap's gown there was a strong surreal intent borrowed from Salvador Dalí's paintings such as "Three Young Surrealist Women Holding in their Arms the Skins of an Orchestra", "Necrophiliac Springtime" and "Dreams Puts Her Hand on a Man's Shoulder" (all from 1936).

The first one features three figures, one of them in a white dress covered in cuts that resemble torn skin; the second painting includes a figure wearing a dress with cuts up the sleeves and the third one features a woman in rags.

The volume "Shocking: The Surreal World of Elsa Schiaparelli" (Thames & Hudson) traces back in these paintings with their bodily illusions, the main inspirations for Schiap's gown. Like the woman in the torn dress in "Three Young Surrealist Women", the tears on Schiaparelli's dress call to mind flayed skin, an element that gives Schiaparelli and Dalí's print a horrifying yet beautiful twist.

But torn clothes were a sort of trend also among other painters at the time: there are, for example, slashes around the elbow and the forearm of Leonor Fini's jacket in "Self-Portrait with a Scorpion" (1938).

Fast-forward to our times to discover Viktor & Rolf who, in their S/S 24 Haute Couture collection, recently showcased in Paris, resurrected the ripped and torn trend with a series of designs showcasing a progressive deterioration, going from pristine to destroyed.

The torn aesthetic, reminiscent of Schiaparelli's vision, prompted reflections on destruction, reinvention, and a potential shift in fashion's purpose.

The design duo shares with Schiap a passion for surreal and humorous designs, but in this collection, entitled "Viktor & Rolf Scissorhands", the duo's best friend must have been a pair of scissors.

The new collection featured elegant evening gowns and tuxedos in black, a colour they already experimented with (think about their black Autumn-Winter 2001-02 collection very aptly entitled "Black Hole").

There were 28 looks in the show, but essentially it was more like watching seven mini-shows with seven looks that showed their gradual destruction, going from a stately coat to a tiered ruffle dress, passing through grand tulle confections borrowed from their archives; each garment was followed by the ripped and destroyed version of the same design.

At first there were just a few tears, then the garments were savaged to the point that they revealed their structure underneath.

There were designs that looked more similar to the concept behind Schiap's dress, yet all the cuts here were real rather than trompe l'oeil.

There were also designs that pointed at previous collections, the final tulle gowns, for instance, evoked memories of V&R's S/S 10 collection with its ballgowns in which holes or tunnels had been drilled or with entire parts missing "woman sawed in half"/Roberto Capucci style. 

Cut by a mad tailor and reinvented by the design duo, the collection may have actually been turned into a more entertaining option if it had been presented live and the cuts would have been made on the spot (maybe even by randomly chosen guests invited to the show for an aura of unpredictability...).

Maybe the designers were trying to go beyond fashion, using the slashes and tears like Lucio Fontana used his cuts, to reach another dimension located beyond the canvas.

Yet, while this may have been the main intent (or maybe there was a punk will behind this gesture), the collection invited contemplation as in some cases models resembled survivors of disasters, raising questions about appropriateness in a world surrounded by conflicts. 

Designers start working on their collections several months in advance, so V&R's vision was probably created before the Israel-Gaza conflict that started last October, yet the choice to present themes of chaos and deconstruction via destruction during tumultuous times raises eyebrows.

Though it may not have been their intent to go down the "disaster survivor couture" path and showcase the effects of the war or of a nuclear bomb on humanity and on clothes (hopefully, nobody will opt for these looks at the Oscars ceremony where "Oppenheimer" is among the nominated films…), quite often, as consumers we tend to project on a collection or an advertising campaign our thoughts and moods, that at times are influenced by what's going on in the world (think about the backlash received by a recent Zara campaign), so the "destroyed" theme, obviously borrowed from Schiap, should have been saved for another time.

The chilling downside of this collection? Well, as stated above, Schiap's torn dress ended up being a moniker of the sorrows that were to follow a few years later. So, does V&R's S/S 24 Haute Couture collection unlock more terror and looming threats? Does it highlight impending dangers and foresee another world war? Hopefully not, let's just hope it's a contemplation on construction, destruction, survival, and the evolving narrative of fashion.

Unapologetically Political: Trashy Clothing

Affordable, Pop Art, and contemporary brands usually steer clear of political undertones, yet the current geopolitical landscape is reshaping the trajectory of fashion and the missions of brands. Enter Trashy Clothing (written as tRASHY).

Established in occupied East Jerusalem in 2017 by Shukri Lawrence and Omar Braika, this Palestinian label seamlessly melds kitsch, club culture, workwear, and sportswear with Arab pop influences, adopting a transnational perspective.

Lawrence and Braika are also inspired by traditional Palestinian embroideries and dress, borrowing from them not the actual motifs, but the possibilities these designs have to tell a story.

Their aim is to amplify the voices of Palestinians in mainstream pop culture, encouraging dialogue through each collection, where diverse cultures converge (illustrated for example by integrating the logos of major international companies in Arabic in some of their previous designs).

Debuting at Berlin Fashion Week in 2018, they made a bold statement by constructing a wall resembling the occupation wall in Palestine, symbolizing the physical barriers imposed on Palestinians.

Unfazed by the disruptions caused by the pandemic, the duo relocated to Jordan in 2020, orchestrating the Cyber Fashion Week (CFW), a virtual extravaganza that intersected fashion, music, photography, art, and performance on an international stage.

Even before the Israel-Gaza war started last year they had to sort out challenges posed by shipping companies, as Israeli companies confiscate items deemed political, including prints and symbols representing Palestine.

The self-proclaimed identity of the duo is rooted in creating garments for unapologetically political, pop culture enthusiasts, individuals embracing campiness and rebellion.

Notable collaborations include the "Free Palestine" T-shirt and vest for the S/S 22 season with GmbH, while in their S/S 23 collection they included a garment without a slogan, but that still hinted at protest - the Shabab Al-Quds jacket was indeed inspired by Palestinian protesters being arrested and having their faces covered by the police so they couldn't be identified.

Also Trashy Clothing's accessories are suspended between the political and the kitsch: their latest accessory collection includes indeed earrings inspired by barbed wire or by the occupation wall and crocheted souvenir bags handmade in Jordan.

As they gear up to release the S/S 24 "Bourgeoisie, Mufflers, and Oil Vol.1" runway film at the end of the month (the new collection is inspired by Palestinian cartoonist Naji Al Ali), Trashy Clothing continues to infuse politics into pop, camp, and rebelliousness, challenging the conventions of affordable, contemporary fashion.

The Political Possibilities of Fashion in GmbH's A/W 24 "Untitled Nations" Collection

Fashion weeks serve as glimpses into the future, revealing the upcoming trends in our wardrobes. Yet, despite their forward-looking nature, runways are at times influenced by the present and by specific current events. In February 2022, when Russia invaded Ukraine, a few fashion houses expressed their support and solidarity to Ukraine. Balenciaga's Demna Gvasalia, for instance, presented a runway amidst a symbolic snowstorm, reflecting the resilience of people facing challenges, with Ukrainian flag colors featured in the yellow tracksuit and the blue dress that closed the show.

As time passed, attention shifted away from the conflict in Ukraine, while a new crisis emerged in the Middle East in October. The Israel-Gaza conflict unfolded after Hamas' aggression and Israel's retaliation, evolving into an escalating situation. Yet the recent menswear and Haute Couture shows barely addressed this conflict. Fashion houses largely remained silent, possibly due to the divisive nature of taking sides and the potential repercussions on their image and consumer base.

Noteworthy exceptions include Rick Owens, who used elongated alien-like silhouettes to comment on humanity, and the Berlin-based brand GmbH, led by Benjamin Alexander Huseby and Serhat Işık.

In their "White Noise" S/S 22 menswear collection, the duo collaborated with the queer Palestinian label Trashy Clothing to create a "Free Palestine" top, so the focus on Palestine in their new collection seems to be a logical progression.

Huseby and Işık, both second-generation immigrants whose parents left Turkey and Pakistan and moved to Germany, were deeply affected by the events in Gaza and feel also troubled by the rise of Nazis and fascists in Europe, along with issues of Antisemitism and Islamophobia.

Their new collection, titled "Untitled Nations" (A/W 24) serves as a protest against nationalism. During its presentation in Paris at the end of menswear week, the designers, wearing Palestinian keffiyeh scarves, read a statement advocating for peace in the Middle East and worldwide. This bold stance contrasted with the general silence within the fashion industry regarding the ongoing conflicts.

"As fashion designers, we're normally left to express our thoughts through clothing and leave the rest to the imagination. But we live in dangerous times, where precision of words is needed," Serhat Işık stated.

The designer added: "We have called for a ceasefire now, a release of all hostages, a free Palestine, and an end to the occupation – all demands we think should be uncontroversial. We have read, we have discussed, and fond bonds in direct actions, and even gotten arrested for activism."

"In Germany, where we live, we have seen in the last month dozens of cancellations of artists, writers and musicians for not aligning with German state policy. The majority of those cancelled are Palestinian, Jewish, Black or Brown. We should all be terrified when Germany starts, again, silencing Jews and other dissenting voices," Benjamin A. Huseby also explained. The duo then proceeded to quoted Arundhati Roy's 2002 "Come September" speech.

Within the collection, tensions between traditions and modernity, politics and fashion were creatively resolved through meticulous tailoring, with the Palestinian keffiyeh serving as the inspiration for boxy jackets in the distinctive red, green, and black hues of the Palestinian flag.

The design duo did an in-depth research for this collection, exploring Palestinian history and symbols as well: notably, watermelon prints appeared on T-shirts; the watermelon was also the main inspiration for one sweater.

Historically employed for its colours (evoking the Palestinian flag) as an unofficial symbol of resistance in Palestine, the watermelon emblem has resurfaced on social media since October.

The collection featured a range of styles, including bomber jackets, wool jackets with curved cuts, asymmetrical crocodile dresses and sweaters that seemed to integrate Arabic window patterns on the front and on the shoulders.

Hoodies showcased prints resembling a distorted United Nations-like logo, with "Untitled Nations" boldly displayed on the back. Multi-pocketed bombers and shirts hinted at a reinterpretation of Schiaparelli's "Cash & Carry" theme or maybe at military gear.

The collection incorporated hand-embroidered keffiyehs, sourced from the Jerash "Gaza" refugee camp in Jordan and provided by the refugee-run brand SEP.

Cultural appropriation is a common occurrence in the fashion industry, but rather than appropriating certain symbols and traditional elements, GmbH approached them with respect.

In their statement, they indeed emphasized their interest in the "political and formal possibilities of fashion as a medium of intercultural exchange." This acknowledgment reflects a conscious effort to engage with cultural elements thoughtfully and ethically.

Fashion should be a catalyst, sparking passions, love, criticism, and debate. Unfortunately, it often fails to do so. The amalgamation of celebrities, influencers, and even paying millionaires at fashion shows has indeed shifted the focus away from meaningful critique towards condescension and enthusiastic approval of whatever sashays down the runway.

Most collections lack two crucial elements - a compelling narrative and a sense of rebellion. In the absence of iconic figures unafraid to speak out (think Vivienne Westwood) or shock ans surprise viewers (Alexander McQueen), the industry has devolved into a spectacle of the most extravagant and peculiar moments that happen in the front row, resolved in an obsession with the Instagrammable rather than a dedication to meaningful protest.

The recent menswear collections in Milan, for example, while impeccably designed, exuded a cold and clinical aura, devoid of a narrative. They seemed to beckon consumers to buy into a superficial perfection, aiming for an idealized standard unachievable to most of us.

Fashion possesses the power to be political and to engage in discussions about heritage, culture, history and traditions. The key lies in maintaining awareness as GmbH have managed to do in this collection that reminds us that, in these perilous times, instead of closing our eyes and obliviously dancing on the metaphorical Titanic, we should use fashion for social and political commentary, as a platform for reflection and even as an opportunity to bridge differences.

What if the Roman Dodecahedron Was Really a Knitting Tool?

In the previous post we looked at the construction of a Roman arm guard that may prove inspiring for fashion designers. Yetartefacts from ancient times may be exciting also for other reasons. Take the Roman dodecahedron like the one uncovered last year by the Norton Disney History and Archaeology Group in the UK.

The object was found by the amateur archaeologists in a farmer's field near the Lincolnshire village of Norton Disney (about 56 kilometers southeast of Sheffield). The artefact is now on display in a nearby museum and was also featured on "Digging for Britain," an archaeological television show on the BBC. The dodecahedron has also been included in the British Museum's Portable Antiquities Scheme website. 

The Roman dodecahedron is a rather intriguing object: the one found in Norton Disney was made of bronze, but there are also dodecahedra made of copper alloy.

This type of dodecahedron features twelve flat pentagonal faces, each pierced with a circular hole of varying diameter in the middle. Sometimes, faces are decorated with concentric rings or markings imprinted in the metal surrounding the holes. Besides, there is a stud at each corner where the 12 faces meet. The dodecahedron found in Norton Disney has the size of a grapefruit, but there are ones as small as a golf ball.

The first one was uncovered in 1739, but more dodecahedra (over 100) were excavated in a variety of countries, mainly in northwestern Europe (including Australia, France, Germany, The Netherlands and the UK, just to mention a few of them) in the following centuries. All the dodecahedra date from the 2nd to 4th centuries AD.

Being very resistant, Roman dodecahedra are usually intact: the one found in Norton Disney dating back 1,700 years ago, doesn't show any signs of wear and tear, but it is in a perfect condition.

There is something truly fascinating about this object with such a peculiar shape: to this day we don't know its purpose yet. As there was no mention in texts of what they may have been used for, we can only speculate about their function. Some claim that this was an instrument to estimate distances to/sizes of distant objects. Yet Roman dodecahedra do not feature any particular markings to clarify or confirm this purpose. Others think the dodecahedra had a religious use in the Gallo-Roman regions, maybe they were fortune-telling objects.

Other conjectures claim they may have been a part of a child's toy (pretty heavy for that, though), a candleholder, a sort of polygonal dice, a decorative object, a weapon (and more specifically the head of a hammer, but in this case if would have been highly impractical and not effective as a weapon) or a range-finding device for Roman artillery. Another hypothesis is that the dodecahedra were objects made to test the skills of metalsmiths to show their capabilities to customers or qualify for a certain status in a collegium (guild).

Some dodecahedra were found in tombs, and this may confirm they may have been objects linked to divination, but this hypothesis clashes with the fact that other dodecahedra were found in coin hoards, so they may have deemed as valuable (or were they maybe used in connection with coins?).

The most bizarre and original theory states that it may have been a knitting device also employed to make gloves. On YouTube a few users actually tried to come up with their own techniques to produce some knitted pieces from a Roman dodecahedron.

Again this is not a confirmed theory, and poses its doubts as these objects seemed too refined for being just tools for knitting and there are also dodecahedra-like objects without the holes needed for spool knitting (by the way the earliest known reference to spool knitting dates to 1535, if the Roman dodecahedron is a tool for this craft the spool knitting history would be disrupted…).

At the same time it's a fun theory and you can experiment with it buying a model of a Roman dodecahedron, 3D printing it (or having it 3D printed) and then using it to try and knit something with it.

Jewelry designers may instead want to try and resize the dodecahedron, and turn it into jewelry pieces: anybody up for 3D printed gold Roman dodecahedron earrings (maybe with pearls instead of studs)? After all, smaller dodecahedra made from gold were found in South-East Asia along the Maritime Silk Road and offered a tangible proof of the influence of Mediterranean trade on those areas, so, by recreating this object in a smaller scale and using precious materials, you can pay homage to this historical connection.

From a Legion's Legacy to Armadillo Couture: A Roman Arm-Guard as a Fashion Muse

Putting back together 100 fragments of a Roman armor from the 2nd century was not an easy feat for conservators at the National Museums Scotland (NMS) in Edinburgh. Yet this historical jigsaw puzzle is finally finished and the piece can go on permanent display in Edinburgh after it returns from the British Museum in London where it will be the star of the exhibition "Legion: Life in the Roman Army" (1st February - 24th June 2024).

The armor was discovered by James Curle, at the Trimontium fort site near Melrose, Scottish Borders, in 1906. It was identified as an arm-guard in the 1990s, but it was put back together only recently. The fragments have been in National Museums Scotland’s collection for more than a century, with the upper section previously on display for 25 years, while another section was on loan to the Trimontium Museum.

What is so precious about the arm guard? Definitely its armadillo-like segmental and flexible construction, with the brass strips overlapping one another. Iron was more functional, but brass was a sort of "couture" material as it would have looked more striking, marking out a soldier's rank on the battlefield (in this case it probably indicated a high-ranking centurion).

The scaled design offered protection, deflecting blows, with underlying padding absorbing much of the impact. Despite the metal's well-preserved state, corrosion patterns provide insights into the attachment points for the leather and padding. Fragments of the original leather have also endured.

The flexible arm guard is usually conceived as a piece donned by Roman gladiators, so it is unusual to see it as a sword arm protection for Roman soldiers too (the design probably derived from a gladiator's kit).

The arm-guard was probably left behind when the Romans abandoned Trimontium: around 2,000 people would have lived there and in the settlement around it. The piece was kept in the headquarters of the site's latest fort where repairs were usually carried out. The arm guard is one of only three known from the whole Roman Empire, and it is also the most intact.

In the past we have looked at fashion construction moving from a Roman lorica segmentata and at inspirations behind Roman antiquities. This is just an arm guard, so not an entire cuirass or body piece, but (like all antiquity pieces…) it can be equally inspiring for fashion designers who may try and experiment creating knitted armadillo-like scales or multi-layered and flexible designs in unusual materials.

An example, not directly derived from the brass armor, but moving from the Middle Ages and combining fantasy and fetish while retaining the armadillo structure, is the flexible armor by Matisse Di Maggio included in the designer's graduation collection.

Combining theatre, costumes, and the performing arts and dubbed "Le Chevalier", the design consists in an ensemble constructed like a Medieval armor, but integrating also a dress. Some sections of the ensemble are characterized by a multi-layered armadillo-like construction.

Di Maggio mainly works with latex and in this case the armor from Medieval times is transformed into a kind of fetish piece, a wearable object that, combining menswear and womenswear, neutralizes both genders hiding and protecting the wearer.

Di Maggio, who studied Fashion Design at the École Duperré Paris, showcased some of her latex pieces on Rick Owens' menswear runway last week in Paris, yet, rather than working in the fashion industry, the designer is more interested in a multidisciplinary exploration of the body and in tackling its social and political meanings through latex and inflatable latex pieces, designs that deform the conventional silhouette of the human body and defy gender, sexuality and power norms.

Fraser Hunter, principal curator of prehistoric and Roman archaeology at the National Museums Scotland, stated in a press release that the Roman guard was "both protection and status symbol" as brass was expensive and would have gleamed like gold on the soldier's  sword arm. This concept is particularly inspiring for fashion designers as the purpose and aim of the Roman arm guard seem to be the same of fashion - we mainly wear clothes with a function in mind, protecting our bodies; yet for those ones among us who are obsessed with fashion, it is the brand that makes the difference, and that gives the wearer a sense of power and status. So, for today, ponder about this connection (protection/status symbol) and about armadillo-like constructions in Roman armors and in modern times.  

A last note for those of you heading to London to see "Legion: Life in the Roman Army": check out also the well-preserved children's leather shoes (AD 43-410) included in the exhibition. They are similar to ballerinas and they perfectly fit in with the current return of ballerina shoes for men as well, as exemplified by Dior Homme's A/W 24 collection.