Massimo Giorgetti, the designer behind MSGM, is obsessed with the ’90s. He was a teenager back then, and the decade left a lasting impression on him, shaping his taste and sensibility. So much so, in fact, that bits and pieces of that time keep resurfacing in his work.
This season Giorgetti pitted the Beastie Boys against The Chemical Brothers. If the collision doesn't make any sense, or sounds just as random as the unlikely encounter of a ’70s dandy and a sky rocket—which was another sub-theme—well, there's no logic to look for: Giorgetti likes the dada/punk approach of cut-up. Call it nonsense, if you prefer. After all, he belongs to the zapping generation: Restlessly jumping across references with no real plan is totally natural. Reading his press notes, with their incongruous short-circuits and grand expectations, can at times be puzzling, other times unnerving, and most of the time completely hilarious.
But that's just theory. When it comes to clothing, on the contrary, there is in fact nothing puzzling or unnerving about MSGM. The label's fast success might be largely due to the straightforwardness of its recipe, to its directness, and lack of intellectualization. Thank God.
Something new, however, was happening today. Color, prints, and pop had left the house. The collection was neat, somber, and graphic, with only a single print in sight—a very dark robot pattern. Volumes were big and the oversized flares brought back memories of acid house anthems and the liberating joy of raves.
"I feel the need to change direction a bit and work on the attitude of my man," said Giorgetti, without adding any further explanation of said attitude. Boys on the catwalk looked dreamy, oddly elegant even, if a tad too reminiscent of Prada—perhaps the emblematic ’90s label. The visual installation by punk artist Nico Vascellari stole the scene. Next season Giorgetti should actively involve Vascellari in the project of the collection, not just hire him as a set designer, if he truly wants to progress.
