Going to a catwalk show may still mean something for the few fashion critics/journalists left out there and for the many influencers or celebrities involved in the spectacle – all of them go to the shows to work, be seen or be photographed.
There is less and less need for runway shows considering that throughout the year brands and labels find ways to promote their products releasing special collections and collaborations. Yet fashion houses still organise catwalks as they know they represent a major advertising opportunity, they help promoting their brands on social networks and, well, they contribute to increasing the sales of perfumes and make up. Yet, when you sit and ponder about certain events, you just wonder what's the point of it all.
Take the Cruise collections: originally created to cater for wealthy American consumers who would go on winter cruises and were not able to find proper alternative clothes in the stores, as the years passed these functional yet stylish wadrobes were turned into proper collections designed to appeal to a wider audience and not just to the cruise going elites.
Results were encouraging with cruise collection registering consistent sales, this meant that their popularity seemed to grow, even though one of the reasons why most companies release such collections is just a question of visibility: May is a quiet fashion month and usually there may be one catwalk show a day or a week in a specific location, so that the global fashion attention is focused on that one event rather than on 20 other shows taking place on the same day as it happens during the more traditional fashion weeks.
As they became more popular, cruise collections also became an excuse for the usual suspects on the fashion circuit to enjoy free trips around the world. Maybe pushed by what can only be defined a "strenua inertia syndrome" (the restlessness/boredom/vigorous lassitude that, Horace recounted, pushed rich Romans to hurry to their country houses because they were bored with life in the city, only to get bored with the country life and go back to the city shortly afterwards...), many fashion houses showcase such collections in bizarre and exotic locations and organise trips to go and see them. The first casualty of the cruise collection (as stated also in other posts) is therefore your objectivity that dies the minute you board the circus bandwagon sponsored by the company. The interesting point is that most times the clothes on the runway are more or less forgotten in favour of multiple Instagram posts showing the location, the sets, the free trips and presents that go with the show.
Take Chanel's Cruise runway that took place on Thursday night: having been to Venice, Seoul, Dubai and Havana (among the other locations), Lagerfeld decided to return to Paris, but he opted to incorporate the travel theme in the set for the collection.
Initially he would have liked to hire a real ship and then go on a 24-hour cruise, but the ship for this travelling circus was unavailable (or maybe he read his fashion history and realised that this was already done by other companies such as Italian Ellesse who took customers on a cruise-cum-catwalk show in the '80s - probably one of the reasons that then led it to bankruptcy...). So Chanel built a 150-metre-long replica ship inside the glass-domed Grand Palais: cinema fans may have sworn that was the Rex out of Fellini's Amarcord, instead it was called La Pausa, after the villa in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin, in the South of France built by founder Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel in the '30s.
The liner came complete with twin funnels, lit portholes and anchor, and special effects such as sounds of seagulls and fog horns and, after the show, gangplanks were lowered to welcome the guests. The liner wasn't indeed just a façade, but it featured deckchairs, on-board piano bar and a fake swimming pool, so it wasn't your average prop.
The set was actually more intriguing than the clothes: sailor stripes abounded for pants and casual shirts, classic tops that at times came with the rather bland slogan "La Pausa" replicated on them (maybe "My sister/brother/cousin/best friend went to La Pausa and all I got was this lousy T-shirt" would have been more entertaining?). Tweed suits featured short pleated skirts and cropped jackets matched with berets, First Communion white tights and childish flat Mary Jane shoes.
The girly theme continued in frothy ruffled dresses and in the Alice in Wonderland-like PVC frocks in which rows of white and blue feathers reproducing wave-like motifs were sandwiched between layers of plastic, while streetwear made an entrance with ripped denim pants (actually woven trousers courtesy of Chanel's Métier's d'Art artisans).
A T-shirt featured a print of a boat in Op Art black and white stripes that evoked the visually striking power of the Vorticists and dazzle camouflage (a recurrent theme in quite a few modern collections), but the playful mood returned in the accessories such as ring-shaped lifebuoy bags and rope totes.
The mood of the 80 outfits (that could have been edited down to 40) was feminine, but at times too girly (see also the emphasis on the exposed midriff). It was actually a bit disappointing to see that La Pausa inspired not architectural designs but bland tops.
This sea-inspired collection (that seemed to be the sugary version of the "industrial sailor" Métiers d'Art collection showcased by Chanel last December in Hamburg) was not without imagination and at times blue and white geometrical prints called to mind the arty geometries of Balla's paintings or Vionnet's 1930s designs, yet quite often it felt tired and overshadowed by the set and by something else as well, Lagerfeld's recent comments about the #MeToo movement.
Just a few weeks ago Lagerfeld stated in an interview with Numéro that he is fed up with the #MeToo movement and, defending stylist Karl Templer accused of having pulled down models' underwear on a set, he suggested that models should know what they are getting into, stating in an almost Shakesperian tone: "If you don't want your pants pulled about, don't become a model! Join a nunnery, there'll always be a place for you in the convent. They're recruiting even!"
Actress Rose McGowan, who last October accused producer Harvey Weinstein of sexual assault, asked to boycott Chanel in an Instagram post after the interview came out, but maybe people invited to this show and enthusiastically Instagramming it were as tired as Lagerfeld about the #MeToo movement or too busy enjoying the complimentary drinks to really care about the #MeToo movement.
This was a sort of albatross hanging around the neck of Captain Karl, and it made you think. The company was heavily criticised when it used a forest of real trees for the set of the A/W 18 runway and, to avoid any other negative comments, Chanel announced that the "La Pausa" set was going to be open for three days after the show to clients, students, schoolchildren and families of employees. Then it will be recycled or repurposed. Somehow it seemed easier for Chanel to come up with a recycling plan for its sets than in convincing Lagerfeld to issue an apology for his offending remarks.
So as "La Pausa" gets dismantled, the Cruise circus continues: after Chanel (heading to Moscow to replicate at the end of the month its Métiers d’Art collection, unveiled in Hamburg), Christian Dior, and Louis Vuitton and Gucci will be showing in France. Prada showcased its collection instead in New York, it was heavily based on remixing the '90s and featured ugly prints echoing the house's S/S 1996 designs.
Miuccia pointed journalists to the inspiration behind some of the looks - the 1993 "Girl With a Hat" portrait of Kate Moss by Steven Klein for Harper's Bazaar in which the model donned an oversized hat from Jean-Paul Gaultier's "Rabbi Chic" collection (that moved from the appearance of highly traditional Hasidic Jews). The designer seemed keener than usual in acknowledging her sources and inspirations, ending up in sounding more objective and honest than many high profile guests invited to her show.
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