There were no celebrities, no influencers—indeed no contrived hype of any kind—on the sidelines of this first-slot-of-the-day, out-of-town show for Ports 1961. Instead of bulking up his morning dose of fashion with the filler froth of fame, Karl Templer delivered it straight up, espresso style.
“The idea is about taking immediate, symbolic codes—often from menswear—that are often quite two-dimensional and then adding an extra third dimension,” he said backstage. “It’s very pure, very ‘wardrobe,’ and very simple in some ways.”
Delivering highly recognizable, apparent simplicity with an upon-closer-inspection twist of difference that motivates consumption is a tried-and-tested formula: Templer followed it interestingly today. Wardrobe “essentials” flavored with difference included double-hemmed and lapeled black tailoring, a long dress in black or ivory with a toggle-fastened seam that curved upward from right ankle to left hip to allow for multiple degrees of display, and cable-knit sweaters that disintegrated at the hem into knit fringe.
Classic gingham and scarf prints were exploded into intrecciato-meets-paper-weave construction, while fine-gauge knits were disassembled and reassembled into a fresh patchwork of the recognizable: the twinset. Templer took last-century masculine codes like the trench coat or pinstripe and then worked in opaque paneling or adjusted the angle of symmetry in order to add sensuality. V-neck sweaters and ponchos came edged in grosgrain, cricket-style stripes that fluttered down beyond the hems of their garments to create more 3D texture. Stripes both wide and narrow were crowded into silk shirting and shirtdresses to upend and refresh ancient Jermyn Street codes. Like the apparently simple facet-cut bracelets and pendants that accessorized this collection, these were clothes that looked straightforwardly chic at first sight, then demanded a second look.
