Henry Holland might have been inspired initially by a New York institution, but by the end his glam and lounge-y seventies collection was begging for a beautiful pool and an umbrella-topped drink. "That Indochine book came out, and you know the banana leaf on the wall [of the restaurant]? The vibe in those pictures is so downtown New York," he said after the show. "Then I watched the film Xanadu on my way home from Singapore." Add a trip to Palm Springs, California, with his pal Agyness Deyn—who snuck into the front row right under the wire—and a collection was born.
Holland made that banana leaf big and bold on both tailored frosty pastel jacquards and vivid green printed jerseys. Many pieces were strung with fringe, swingy or knotted. For a collection called Something With a Fringe on Top, that's probably unavoidable; it also was often regrettable. Then again, part of Holland's profitable shtick is the way he pushes the boundaries of bad taste to both enjoyable (excellent jewel-tone metallic Charlotte Olympia lace-up platform sandals) and less enjoyable (fat powder-puff earrings) effect. When fringe-free, the collection boasted some wearable moments, though the cupcake-wrapperlike leather kilts owed a debt to Christopher Kane's last season at Versus.
Holland ended the show with a pair of halter dresses destined for disco decadence, their gold mesh beaded with stars that look like the kind you got on an A paper in the third grade. Lesson here? Even when the Holland girl is dressed to be bad, he finds a way to make her feel good.
