Martin Margiela was a 40-year-old outsider Belgian, known for upcycling, deconstruction, and, most of all, anonymity, when he signed on with the family-owned Hermès. His 1997 appointment raised more than one eyebrow. In part, this was because the French house was better known for its leather goods than ready-to-wear, but it also was a matter of politics. When Hermès company head Jean-Louis Dumas described Margiela as “an accomplice, not a paid star in my music hall,” it was a clear riposte to his rival, Bernard Arnault of LVMH,and the raw, glitzy talents—John Galliano at Dior, Alexander McQueen at Givenchy—who became known for their extravagant productions.
Presented in the company’s Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré store on an unconventional cast of former models and older street-cast women wearing—gasp!—sneakers, Margiela’s Hermès debut couldn’t have been more different than Galliano and McQueen’s runway spectaculars. Here the vareuse, a deep-V-slit top, made its appearance, as did short-sleeved sweaters, perfectly cut trousers, and adjustable outerwear—items that he would return to and evolve in each of the 12 seasons he was at the house. Outwardly conservative and made of the finest materials, these pieces were in fact quite subversive in their rejection of the idea of fashion as a rapidly changing and disposable commodity.
