What is the modern wardrobe, anyway? In just its third season, Alyx is answering that question in more compelling ways than plenty of brands with longer histories. Maybe that’s little wonder—as a creative director, founder Matthew Williams has played a large part in shaping the visual identities of Kanye West and Lady Gaga (he also cofounded creative collective–cum–cult–streetwear–line Been Trill). Now, with Alyx, his fledgling fashion brand, Williams has set about building his own universe at a steady pace: Since debuting for Fall ’15, the clothes have been shown through appointments with editors and buyers. That organic approach to growing his business doesn’t seem to have done any harm. You’ll find Alyx clothing on the racks at tastemaking stores like Maryam Nassir Zadeh, Dover Street Market, Machine-A, The Broken Arm, and Colette. And earlier this week, the line was named as one of the semifinalists for this year’s LVMH Prize.
Fall found Williams upping the ante—particularly where the scope and confidence of his brand’s voice are concerned (he also shot the season’s lookbook). Dubbed Natural Order, the collection was the label’s most varied to date. Where so many labels today are pillaging or parroting the aesthetic vernaculars of counterculture—be it punk, skate, surf, hip-hop, or myriad combinations thereof—Williams riffs on the iconography of his youth in ways that feel both authentic and new. One of this season’s tees was a reimagining of one the designer’s grandmother bought him, a skate shirt whose graphic, when folded in half, transforms to say, “Fuck you.” Sweatpants in the heaviest weight fleece bore a surprising amount of structure, thanks in part to pintuck details; and bondage straps decked out a dress in a stunning, spangly jacquard that frayed softly at the hem and cuffs. The designer tapped Shin Murayama, a Japanese artist whose warrior-like masks came to life here crafted out of Camel and Newport T-shirts, with piercings and braids that Williams used to underscore an idea of femininity (albeit in a beautifully unorthodox sense).
Artful touches distinguish the brand, and they multiplied for Fall. The pinstripes of a cashmere-wool suit, on closer inspection, were comprised of the word “Alyx,” placed end-to-end hundreds of times (the studio’s St. Marks Place address appears on the fabric’s selvedge), and embossed metal lighter caps have become a signature accent. Those with any hint of an archivist tendency will delight in hidden labels printed with the year of the garments’ creation.
Williams’s focus on sourcing his materials from the places that do them best is particularly compelling. Here was Scottish suiting, English outerwear, Italian shirting; even biker jackets and hiking boots were produced by companies for whom those things are a chief focus. The brand’s name in heady glass beading atop a square of tulle, when seen on the arm of an oversize plaid shirt, recalled band patches. There’s something about that marriage of luxury and subversion that feels particularly . . . right. Alyx offers investment buys for those to whom that phrase in its traditional sense might hold little appeal. Whatever the outcome of the LVMH race, expect plenty of new fans to flock to the label in the months to come.
