Jacquemus' Instagram Ban Didn't Go According to Plan
Yesterday, Paris Fashion Week was graced with Jacquemus’ Fall/Winter ’16 collection—which was heavily Instagrammed, despite the designer’s decision to ban social media, and which came at a good time. If he had shown just over three centuries earlier, his models would’ve surely been hunted down and tried for being witches. This collection was spellbinding in the intricate and quirky construction of the clothes, but also in the sense that these girls looked literally spellbound. There were dresses and tops with spaghetti straps that tie at the shoulder and looked as if they were floating in midair. And blazers came with shoulder pads so enormous and exaggerated they almost appeared animated. Either this was an optical illusion or these girls just got Wingardium Leviosa-d.
Simon Porte Jacquemus did branch out a bit from his usual structural, monochrome, and neoprene repertoire. There was an uncharacteristic amount of color, as well as plaid and a polka-dot pattern. But he stayed true to his self-taught, slightly enigmatic aesthetic too. What wouldn’t have landed you in a Salem witch trial looked moderately war-torn. As if Jacquemus had fallen into a jealous rage, tore up his nice clothes, transcribed all of Kanye’s tweets, and then blacked out—and then, after coming to, was like, “Shit,” craftily pieced the scraps back together, and bolted out of the house like a burglar leaving a crime scene. Torn blazers and trousers were held together by white bows, and shirts were a composite of different colored button-downs, wool, puffer coats, and red gauze. Pants were missing a leg; gloves, sleeves, and leather over-the-knee boots were mismatched; and one girl looked like a human pin the tail on the donkey—if the donkey was a model in a navy pant and shirt set and the tail was a casual, life-sized glittery dress.
It was a collection that left you utterly transfixed and a wee-bit perplexed. Was that a hand? A sleeve? An extra limb? Are those tangled and twisted shirts? Or is this all part of my mother’s grand plan to get me into a straight jacket? We’ll never know.
Photography by Sonny Vandevelde.
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