This is it. My first ever "review" of shows from PFW. My first "review" of anything as a person who writes their thoughts publicly on their blog.
So, hello dear readers. I hereby warmly welcome you to read my coherent or incoherent thoughts looking at some of the shows (not all, just the ones that struck my interest for one reason or another) provoked in me. I look at these collections with an open mind in the sense that I may have not seen all the previous works of the designers. I may not be familiar with present directions the houses are going into. In fact, I may not have even heard of the designers before. Yet I shall daringly state my thoughts about these works of art and have no fear! Of course, most of the great minds behind the collection mentioned here are ones I know of. Some I even love. Anyway.
So, let us.
I'm starting with this particular show for mostly just one reason: feeling of love that bloomed while viewing said collection. If you read the post before this one, you've already learned about this sudden wave of feelings that struck such a chord with me that resonated somewhere deep and formed a basis for a new point of view growing in my mind.
"And I don't even like sportswear!"
It's was around look 19 I was charmed and overcome with excitement. While a sworn couture-lover since I was a teenager, I've also had a certain fascination with minimalism in fashion. My grandmother (a huge fashion and style inspiration for me) has an arresting sense of minimalistic style. Watching her style herself with only black-and-white outfits that had clean lines and an almost architectural sense of form in them deeply affected me. Hussein Chalayan made me remember that adoration in me and I was sold.
The freshness. The youthful yet seemingly thoughtful and wise feel of this collection is really something wonderful. I found myself wondering how something so summery could be so much to my liking.
One of my favourite looks. The tailoring really gets me, the length of the trousers is just right. Young. I strongly resist the oh-so-damn trendy way of idolizing youth this world is filled with. Ewh. I'm all for all ages, beauty or style has no boundaries and that goes for age as well, damnit.
Young. The word sticks with me as I continue to view the collection. I want to grasp the very core of what "young" means in this particular case. Young and fresh and blablabla, yes. Boring. But also so true here. Something being young or youthful does not exclude being wise and good-tempered I suppose. There are times when boundaries are quite where it's good for them to be so that there may actually be no need to try and break them. Like here.
A feeling of being at ease. Things flowing in a way that's natural for them. Effortlessness.
BAM. And that's it. I'm in love. Yes please hello. Oh my.
Then we are presented with such beautiful thing of graphic glory I'm not sure if I can feel my legs any longer.
Harmony. Harmony and youthful tenderness set between just the right amount of structure and form and edge. But just as everywhere always, things are in a constant movement and things flow in their own natural pace, in their natural ways and it is a thing of great beauty to witness.
Before venturing any forth, I want to say that my relationship with Dior is largely based on the love for Galliano's era. And then the original design greatnesses of Mr. Dior himself. And when I started to get interested in the happenings of the fashion world again, it was just around the time the world saw the fall 2012 couture collection of Raf Simons'.
I had mixed feelings about that one. Even after taking off my Galliano's aesthetics-adorning glasses and starting to look at the collection from a more objective point of view, I still couldn't quite make up my mind about it. And here I am again, left wondering what it is to me, this new collection. And I still can't make up my mind.
I can definitely understand Simons' take on the classics. It has it's own fascinating ways. And the shoes, they have me hooked.
And now what? The electricity is of a magnificent sort, even. But, I really don't know other than that.
Wait, I think I do know after all: I do not like.
This one is one of my favourites. It moves, it's challenging, it's a brilliant mix of elements. And the colours, ah.
I'm completely lost again. The challenge feels almost pressuring and this makes no sense in my head. Even the shoes have got me lost somewhere. My mind is not broad enough for this, I think and continue forward feeling perplexed.
Getting warmer again. No, it's hot in fact and I'm on track. What a combination of colours. The proportions are beautiful, the electricity is there and it's working. Even the longer part of the hem I like. It works, it has a point.
"Who am I to say anything, it's Dior forchrissakes" I shout to myself in my mind, trying to please an entity I don't know. Desperation.
Can you hear the sound of it all just flying way over my head and fast at that? Because I can not yet I know it makes a terrible noise.
Mr. Simons, are you trying to confuse me?
And that's it for the first part of many reviews to come. I am grateful for you, brave and beloved reader, for making it so far, for reading this babble. And even more so if you could make sense of this.
All photos from the same source: http://www.style.com