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The major starting point for the collection, Vaccarello said at a preview, was Marrakech in the ’70s (YSL was a habituée) reimagined as 21st-century Los Angeles, a city that resides on Vaccarello’s own emotional landscape. (He first visited when he was 14, and there have been many return visits.) While that’s some geographical leap, it’s not an unimaginable one; both locations speak to a yearning for a certain bohemian, free-spirited, almost mystical escape. “You come to L.A. for vacation,” Vaccarello said. “You can disconnect from the rest of the world.” The Morocco-by-way-of-LA-isms were smartly and sparingly deployed throughout the collection and considered flourishes, not theme-gone-wild. The tasseled hoods, djellaba shirting, and embroideries of tiny silver discs suspended from chains amplified the rigor of the classic YSL vestiaire that Vaccarello has been busy exploring (the saharienne, the sharp-as-a-tack tux) as well as the kind of pieces (the bomber, the spencer) that he has introduced into the house’s lexicon. At a time when men’s tailoring is coming back with a vengeance, there was plenty of it here that intrigued, including jackets whose shoulder seams ran on the bias, keeping the line defined, but, apparently, allowing for more comfort and mobility. After all, how else might you convince a generation accustomed to the freedom of streetwear to try tailoring on for the first time and keep it on? The other major reference for the collection was Mick Jagger, circa the Rolling Stones tour of 1975, where the lead singer got to shake a tail feather on stage (and off) in all sorts of glossy and glittery finery. Vaccarello understands, as Jagger did, that a man never looks more masculine than when he’s in satin and sparkle. So he took the opportunity to reference the androgyny of the glam-slam ’70s with one that reflects today: the gleaming black teddy jacket whose sleeves were cut with kimono-like proportions, for instance, or an ivory satin suit, which came with a matching silk shirt left undone save for the knot at the waist. (Jagger, incidentally, who gave Vaccarello access to his vintage YSL, is returning the compliment by wearing some pieces from this collection when the Stones start their U.S. tour later this month, including the cobalt blue-to-black dégradé beaded blouson.) Egyptian clothing, as were clothes from all ancient societies, was made from locally-sourced materials. Egyptian society was one of the earliest agricultural societies. That is why the ancient Egyptians wore light clothes made from linen. Linen is made from flax – a plant that was grown along the Nile. The picture to the right shows the flax growing process.
The girlishness and sweetness of those paillette scarves and embroidered shirts were replaced with an almost erotic purity the idea of fetishizing a thing as perfect as it is, unadorned in a simple cotton or loose leather. The clothes were essentials in the most classic sense of menswear twills, tweeds, shirting, sportswear, khaki but oversize or misplaced in their proportion to reveal, say, a bare collarbone in a baby dollish tank, or to accentuate the strangeness of wearing a cropped jacket over a blazer in the same material. Together the looks comprised all the musts of a traditional male wardrobe, recut with the freewheeling spirit of boyhood. But a Prada show is never one-note. The stated reason for this Shanghai show was to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Milan being named a sister city of the Chinese cosmopolis. The reality is that business in China is booming. Over two days of touring the city’s hubs, it was impossible to miss a Prada store or billboard. In reviving its Linea Rossa business, the company has struck gold with a younger, more streetwear-inclined consumer. Perhaps that’s what gave birth to a series of prints of antiquated technology. A roll of film here, a cassette tape there, a ‘50s soda-pop joint milkshake later on all of these pieces appeared as a single graphic or as a grid of many on trendy nylon. As the models walked past an audience clad in last season’s Frankenstein-patterned pieces, you could see the commercial appeal. To be sinister, or sales-minded, though, is not the larger message. Zoom all the way out like, decades of menswear out and this collection could read as a pivotal moment for Prada. For a long time, its menswear shows were about medium-rise straight pant, a button-up polo shirt, and a loose anorak. Where did it go? I look around me quickly, pretty sure I look like a witch at the moment with my crazy mess of a hair. And I spotted it, laying there on the ground underneath the shoes of the merciless, hungry girls. I rushed to take it and looked at it to see that it’s covered with shoe marks all over. I may have survived the battle but it didn’t.. But given the mess that my hair was, I had to put that filthy piece of fabric on my head and withdraw to at least enjoy this piece of pizza… and think of a better way to get breakfast the next day.
Because of the Dunhill show that followed immediately after, this reviewer could only stay for the rehearsal of today’s Pigalle show. It would have been so dreamy to be able to hang around for the whole enchilada that promised via repeat performance and barbecue to be a fun evening. Held on the roof of a garage in the 9th arrondissement, the sun was still high and bright. In every direction but for the south around us was spread the infinite patchwork of Paris’s panorama. What blocked the southern aspect was a photographed replica of the view beyond, upon which was printed with the view, with the insertion of some new futuristic buildings two new towers by the Eiffel with alien ergonomic windows and walkways. Slightly to the east, the Pompidou had somehow been tripled in size. In front of the backdrop was a floor of boulder-strewn sand. When the rehearsal started, orchestrated by Stéphane Ashpool with an already-sunburned neck, we saw a sort of future-pagan tribe in flowing white and metallic raiments emerge. Behind started up the most awesome music urgent, mystic, blissed-out future jazz overseen by Kamaal Williams (with Alina Bzhezhinska on harp, Rick Leon James on bass, and Nathaniel Fuller on percussion). The first looks mixed patched robes with drawstring-shirred parkas and loose green organza pants that flapped like prayer flags in the breeze in a sort of Sun-Ra-meets-Logan’s-Run-meets-Buck-Rogers vibe. Then a group of dancers in powerfully colored double-faced pajama suits emerged and made patterns with movement around the first looks before a maypole ritual with strips of fabric. Next up were some looks by Ashpool proteges Theo Each-Cheikh and Yacine Keita, whom he has long mentored and now given creation space in his atelier. Finally were three Pigalle x Nike looks complete with Jumpmans and Jordans applied as a final flourish in a show interrupted only by a handsome dog that wandered onto the runway halfway through before being tenderly ejected by the designer. At the age of six, women start to wear clothes. Status was important in ancient Egypt. The higher the position, the thinner the material. Unlike men, women wore more conservative clothes. They wore full-length, straight dresses with one or two shoulder straps, with very little sewing, if any. These dresses, depending on the period, would lie below the breast, but most often covered the chest.
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