The casting represented quite the cross section: one had blue hair, another had a long pink side braid. A few had shaved heads. They were black, white, Asian, and a skin tone that might be best described as patchwork. There were also two boys. Meet the Viktor & Rolf mascots who, to quote the program notes, “are rooting for a world that is creative, diverse, and eco-conscious.” In their highly modified MA-1 bomber jackets complete with bright orange lining and paired with jeans and Doc Martens, they were properly dressed for their role as “action dolls.” And until the 20th look—a floor-sweeping dress covered in geometric quilt motifs—the designers wanted you to believe that these bobbing, wide-eyed woolen heads were just an alternative way of showing off their characteristically voluminous permutations of an otherwise generic wardrobe standby.
But then the march began anew; only this time, the models who had previously been peering through giant fake lips returned in the same outfits, now opened up and worn casually to expose artfully treated denim. In shedding their doll skin, they redirected attention back to the manipulations of the lustrous high-tech Japanese fabric—how it had been padded, pleated, ruffled, and folded over to achieve vaguely historical silhouettes. Bow shapes emerged through the construction, while front and back panels were compressed as though smocked. Up close, all the colorful tiling from humble recycled fabrics was as laudable as any application of fancy embroidery. And amid the variety, a single black-on-black look conjured up an altogether different persona—a Pixar film ringleader, if not a Soho gallerist.
Whatever vibe you pick up from these dolls—kooky, cute, creepy, clever—the designers insisted their intention was anything but cynical. “We thought reality is so weird at the moment, why not show the surreal side of reality,” said Rolf Snoeren, with Viktor Horsting suggesting that “these [dolls] are fighting for a better world” via the patchwork symbolizing unity. As a call to action, couture dolls certainly aren’t the most obvious transmission medium. Unless, of course, they start canvasing in the streets, which seems like a wonderfully absurd thought. Much more likely is that these relatively wearable dresses, coats, and jeans will end up in women’s closets. The first bow-shaped bomber has already sold, head not included. And no, the designers didn’t go so far as to create dolls in their own likeness. For all their studied whimsy, they keep things real.
