Spring 2018 Menswear
June 10, 2017
• With back-to-back shows, the task of hopping seamlessly from one show venue to the next felt daunting at best and hopeless at worst. London, it seemed, was hellbent on hindering me from doing my job. First, there were road closures—the Queen, someone said. I said the Kween should know it’s fashion week and adjust her route accordingly, but Lizzie wasn’t the only problem. A women’s cycling tour was responsible for more road closures, so by about midday I was already entirely off-kilter.
• As I headed down the Mall and entered Trafalgar Square, a hoard of gun-toting bobbies (that’s British slang for policemen) popped up and stopped traffic. I had about 15 minutes before the Loverboy show was supposed to start, and according to Uber I was eight minutes away.
• But lo! A protest! Hundreds of pro-anything except the Tories spilled out of the Strand with placards held high—Never Trust a Tory! and Out with Austerity! they chanted as they passed. It took a full 15 minutes before the Old Bill (also police) let us pass, and while I’m all for peaceful protest, especially against dodgy Ms. May, Charles Jeffrey Loverboy!
• I arrived by the skin of my knickers, and funny, the protest was actually the perfect opening act. I picked up the show notes on my seat. “It’s the right kind of extremism: dancing in the face of threats to freedom,” they read. Dancers in big, pink, handmade costumes stormed the space, like if a four-year-old boy in a pink tutu with a penchant for My Little Pony had reinterpreted Maurice Sendak’s Where The Wild Things Are. This was a celebration of creativity fueled by defiance.
• “Tudor street urchins and cross-dressing infants…Buckled tartan punks and mantilla-clad Duchesses…Fulham rugby boys and towering Hussar soldiers…Byronic heroes [and] caked-up, coked-up bright young things” was how the show notes summed it up in a nut sack.
• There was a man in a red wig like Queen Elizabeth I, wearing knickerbockers under a bomber jacket-ball gown hybrid. Those were paired with knee-length snakeskin boots. A white shirt that billowed out to one side like a cape was paired with tight tartan trousers cover in buckles, and a biker jacket-cum-doublet with a fluted neck was paired with a short ruffled skirt and big black boots. Makes sense.
• Despite the debauched, Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey-like orgy in front of us, there was a cohesiveness throughout the collection, and for his first standalone show, I would call this a screaming success.
Spring 2018 Menswear