Fashion trades in temptation; in causing that uncontrollable, visceral impulse that something must be owned, no matter the price. That sensation is harder than ever for a designer to generate at a time when the fear of the future puts the brakes on spending; something which even affects people who’ve stacked up financial reserves a-plenty. Jonathan Anderson put a pithy British message on that subject on the Loewe show invitation. Hand-embroidered on a linen square in charming white chain-stitch, it read: “You Can’t Take It With You.”
“I thought it was very positive,” he remarked backstage. “And chilling at the same time.” Well, Carpe Diem—enjoy now, splurge now, for tomorrow we die—is a valid creative response to the times. We’ve been seeing that in the glittery escapism which is manifesting itself all over, but at Loewe Anderson took a sophisticated tack, plunging fashion people into the sensory shock of an art installation. To find their seats, they were forced to grope through a pitch-dark labyrinth illuminated only by spotlights trained on a vast collection of orchids positioned high up on the walls. There was something both decadent and primal about it: a beautiful, accusatory conservatory at the end of the world. What were we doing, sitting in this expensive and terrifying place? Have we done this to nature?
But enough of things which can’t be seen in the pictures! None of the expense lavished on the Loewe setup would have been justified had the clothes not been great, but they were; an extraordinary variety of fabric-development, swishily attenuated midi dresses and handheld bags. What makes Loewe so interesting now—apart from its handmade textures—is the way that styles and patterns can be culled from so many sources without descending into chaos. With Anderson orchestrating, a puffy-sleeved, 18th-century off-the-shoulder dress can co-exist with a caramel cashmere coat; a patchwork dress with a flavor of the American West walks alongside something striped with burned-out patches filled in with black chantilly lace.
All said and done: As much as Jonathan Anderson may be a nonnarrative collager, apparently pulling from this and that at random, every single Loewe product is seen through as a real product to buy. Amongst them is a big, funny sou’wester hat. On the side of it is a funny cartoony print of a loaf (abbreviated Cockney rhyming slang for “head”). Is Anderson’s Loewe collection the best thing since sliced bread? Well, that might be a tiny bit of an exaggeration, but for a new breed of luxury-seeking shoppers, this collection is going to open those spending-valves.
