As it was, in a very different way Matthew Williams Givenchy Collection. His official “show” debut was also largely black and white after a low-key presentation last season, with dashes of lipstick red, lavender and smokey orange. Filmed in a fiery arena with flooded floors, it was high in aggression and attitude, rife with extreme baggage that would likely become a viral hit, evident in its vocabulary (and with its own soundtrack, Robert Hood’s Courtesy, a godfather of minimal) technical), but not original at all.
The exaggerated fur chaube, the large-shouldered bomber jacket and the razor-tailored jacket were slightly tightened to the waist, the silhouette topped with a heavy metal chain-link necklace at the neck, with Yeti-Mitten in hand. And on the feet with the hoof. Like block platforms (reminiscent of Alexander McQueen like brilliant). Hemlines were cut, asymmetric cuts and slithered lace gowns sliced to expose the underside. Then it all came to the crown of Bat-Butted Balletclav and Jughead Bandana. Imagine what you want to wear if you went to a gold-laden fight club, and that would be it.
However, such a luxury hard-core, haute-street area has already been marked, such as Ricardo Tissi, one of Mr. Williams’s Givenchy predecessors, as well as Mr. Williams’ former employer, Kanye West (formerly -Every fashion) avatar), an argument can be made that each generation should experiment anew. At least until the bare breasts of the bra show bare breasts actual clothes.
Once, in the days of Yves Saint Laurent and the early Helmut Newton, it could be provocative and edgy. On a call, Mr. Williams said that for her it was about women’s empowerment. But at this particular time – post-metu with the first female vice president in America, for the same month as good as International Women’s Day – it’s impossible to see a female nipple glowing on the runway because it’s nothing stale and wrong.
Even before the epidemic, it was a form that had its heyday. Mr. Williams would like to have another look at his crystal ball.