If there’s a house which represents the core of the French establishment, it’s Hermès. In these disturbed and disturbing times, it’s tempting to theorize that bourgeois instincts are to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible. Should that be correct, Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski has crafted the perfect collection to speak directly to that tendency. At times, her sensibility is so discreet, so subtle, so gray and covered-up that she seems to be designing for women who would rather fade into the background.
It's a very expensive background, though. Context, culture, and quality are crucial to any understanding of Hermès, yet arguably none of them can be communicated in a large-scale runway show, even if the venue is an historic training center for the French cavalry. It goes without saying that the leather and suede pieces were of unsurpassable quality, of course. Along the way, some of the clothes whispered an awareness of fashion—particularly a fit and flared gray Shetland wool dress, and an olive green vaguely thirties shape, decorated with silver-stud embroidery.
On the other hand, why should Hermès need to bend itself to fickle fashion anyway? Everything about the company becomes more inspiring when seen within the hallowed walls of its Rue Saint-Honoré flagship store. Once, Martin Margiela, who designed collections in the early-2000s, chose to show in the store. In fact, Vanhee-Cybulski herself worked for Margiela. She'd be smart to think about bringing the whole show back home next season. When you're speaking this softly, people have to be close up to hear.
