Demna Gvasalia stood backstage wearing a hoodie printed FBI. When somebody eventually pointed at it, he quipped: “I’m investigating!” As a designer and creative director, Demna Gvasalia is the CCTV of fashion, or perhaps its all-seeing drone: observing, zooming in on what people wear, their uniforms and social habitats. His current report on the “real” was uploaded onto the Balenciaga high-fashion platform today. It made for some ominous reading.
“I wanted it to be more Demna, less Cristóbal this time,” he explained. “After the past few seasons, I could feel myself getting restrained by homages.” So, can he define what “Demna” is? “Something more vicious. Gothic, in a way,” he replied. “Fashion is a reflection of the way we live. I wanted this feeling [that] something dangerous is going to happen.” And he pointed at the heavily spiked, ankle-strapped pointy stilettos which captured his mood. “I’m pleased with them,” he said.
Recognizably, it was a Balenciaga collection much nearer to the practice he brought to the world with his own brand, Vetements. Showing in a cavernously dark place, he reconfigured archetypal clothes, segueing through men’s striped shirts, punk tartans, ladylike pencil skirts, T-shirts, utility jackets, and negligees. Soon, it became apparent that the pileups of garments weren’t just a matter of layering. Trench coats were attached to denim jackets, lingerie slips attached to turtlenecks, lace camisoles joined to polka dot chiffon dresses, and so on. “They are joined, so you can wear them one way or the other as you will,” he informed us. Next season, Balenciaga will effectively be throwing a buy-one-get-one-free bonanza.
Meanwhile, Gvasalia’s trenchant observational sense of humor was all over the collection; the kind of bad-taste-into-chic provocation that gives him the edge with Balenciaga maniacs. Scans of euro and dollar notes and screen-saver scenes of sunsets and mountain landscapes became prints. Souvenir-shop charms jangled from chain belts and bag straps. Chunky gilded earrings were taken from old “duty-free” Balenciaga-branded merch. A plastic molded top-handled motorcycle bag appeared. At one point, trousers and skirts took on the detail of café umbrellas and awnings, complete with fringe. Finally, like Christopher Kane, he went to Crocs—the ultimate ugly comfort shoe producers—to make a line of giant platforms.
It begs questions, of course. Gvasalia cut his teeth at Maison Martin Margiela, and his appropriations of ordinary things are fully in that tradition. It kind of posits the notion that nothing new can be created in fashion, except for the way in which things are chosen and placed together. In Gvasalia’s case, the context is very different. His blurring of the lines between the real and the fake is self-evidently a running commentary on the state we’re all living in. Some will doubtless find something morally outrageous in this happening within a luxury brand. Then again, since when should creative people have to toe a conservative line? Gvasalia, with his sharp eye for socio-political commentary, is never going to do that. And for a smart and knowing generation, that looks chic.
