The subtle shift in title from Hussein Chalayan's Resort to his Spring collection—Moor's Chorus to Moor's Gaze—signaled a shift in emphasis. The serial repetition of Resort (the chorus) was overtaken by a more mysterious notion: women draped, concealed, half-glimpsed through doorways in souks. Chalayan made his point with his finale gowns, embroidered visions of women in burkas tentatively peeking out at the world like they were actually concealed in the dress. In the current volatile climate, that came across as a pretty loaded concept, except that the Louvre is just about to launch a huge exhibition dedicated to Le Maroc Médiéval, about the historical interaction of North Africa and Spain, and Chalayan's starting point was exactly that: the cross-cultural glories of the Alhambra in Andalusia.
Chalayan managed to translate an entire spectrum of inspiration, from the romance of the shadows cast by orange trees on a tiled courtyard to the rigor of the mechanical grids of water irrigation systems. Romance and rigor: quintessential Chalayan, in other words. Minus the arcana of the inspiration, there were fluid, flattering volumes, sharply tailored jackets, a crisp lattice of white embroidery over floral prints. Chalayan is severely underestimated for the way he can cut a glamorous dress. Resort's kicky Lollobrigida quality was carried through into a handful of off-the-shoulder slinky numbers here. But he tucked stuff into the bodice of these dresses, like a secret. He can't help himself. There has to be more, even—especially—if you can't see it.
