[dropcap]C[/dropcap]outure is the lifeblood of the fashion world. It’s slightly impractical, but it’s the bare bones of pure innovations. Things are handmade, loved, doled over, meticulously produced in limited quantities lasting a lifetime and then some. It’s the epitome of clothesmaking.
I’m being a bit of a drama queen right now, but hey, that’s couture. We’re swathed yet again in beads, sequins, crystals, layers of organza and plissé fluttering with each well-heeled glittery stomp.
Aside from all the trusty showmanship from names like Chanel, Dior, Armani Prive, Givenchy, Versace (etc, etc..), I became enamored with Dice Kayek’s architectural representation of fairy tale characters. The structures expertly defy gravity while still retaining an extremely pliable appearance.
Speaking of trusty names, I’m not the only one disturbed by Dior’s collection with no creative director at the helm, right? Not that the collection suffered. It just feels like a nice, sleek car without a driver at the helm of it. A bit empty and strange. The collection stunned despite lacking grand ball gowns. That’s a mark of really solid foundation.
Then there’s king of high fashion, Elie Saab. He expertly fused edgy details (hi, combat boots) with embellishments, giving the collection a breath of youthful energy. I remember drooling over his designs back when I was in middle school and junior high. I obsessively drew his dresses on the computer via MS Paint. It was the real deal. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, see here. This isn’t an Elie Saab but this is one I made way back in middle school: It was a serious fashion obsession and one of my earliest intros to all the designers I’ve learned to love. Couture collections were the bread and butter of hours spent doling over each pixel (it was all done pixel by pixel, zoomed in).
Now that we’re on the subject of art, it’s only appropriate to draw attention to Viktor & Rolf. Dear Braque and Picasso lovers, this one’s for you. In the spirit of all things art, the designer duo sent out an extrapolated all white polo shirt morphing into sculptural masses rivaling many Cubist museum collections.