Hipster-luxe. Could it be a thing? Take the look early in the lineup with the outdoorsy urban backpack and the sunglasses perched just so on top of the head: Swap the white pants for denim, nix the foulard, and give that man a beard—surely that's hipster-luxe right there. Especially when you consider that his lumber-sexual check shirt is angora and the sailing jacket is suede and heat-bonded leather.
Pablo Coppola is both playful and pragmatic in his approach to Bally. He indulges in flights of fantasy, yet feels a keen sense of responsibility to ensure they will translate to reality. For an illustration, check out the brown is-it-a-one-piece? worn by a model who might either be going on safari or getting ready to pilot a plane. Said Coppola: "We wanted a boilersuit but it kind of looked too Top Gun-y. So we did it as a shirt and a trouser. We said, 'No, that's not real. I don't know anyone who's going to wear that boilersuit.'"
Those twin compulsions, to be expressive but extremely wearable, drove the assembly of a desirable menswear collection. And hipster-luxe was just one of the hyphenates it begged. Coppola's corduroy suits with oversized oblong waterproof suede elbow patches teamed with Bally's pure whites were total sneaker-gent. The olive cashmere Crombie—it came in orange too—over fly-lure print pajamas was pure bro-hemian. This applied to the zigzag suede and nappa sneakers teamed with a Bally-piped cashmere town coat as well. The white snakeskin hikers with red socks, rolled up khakis, and blue parka were preppy-trek. There was nothing you could really call a misstep—even the integration of vintage Bally labels on accessories and a parka was sweet-naïf rather than branding-naff. Overall it was light of touch, down-to-earth, and blessed with a sense of humor.
