Thom Browne likes to create an alternate universe for his clothes, and for his first women’s show in Paris he conjured an otherworldly scene of epic proportions. Men dressed in all-white organza skirt suits, corsets, and four-inch heels greeted guests who arrived at the Hôtel de Ville with magic wands and pouches full of glittery fairy dust. The possibility of magic and mischief hung thick in the air. “Two girls dreaming of unicorns and mermaids, and all the things that little girls dream of,” was Browne’s initial point of departure. He used the sweet siren call of Jodi Benson’s “Part of Your World,” from The Little Mermaid soundtrack, to set the tone, though as ballerinas in lumpy, pearl-studded bodysuits danced down the runway, it was hardly what you’d call a fairy-tale beginning.
Then again, Browne’s retelling of a Disney classic was never going to be conventional. Instead he used Ariel’s underwater habitat as a springboard for his own freewheeling imagination, tumbling down an exquisite rabbit hole of fantastically chic possibilities. The pink and green tentacles of an octopus that were wrapped around one evening dress were almost lifelike in their appearance, with layers of organza piled across the back to form a head. One glittering skirt suit came encrusted with thousands of sequins that looked like crushed mother of pearl, and another was spun from spongy clouds of tulle that trailed behind the model as she walked down the runway like grass at the bottom of the ocean. In fact all the looks had the same mesmerizing buoyancy, as if they might just float off into the sunset to find their own happy ending at any given moment.
The couture-like finish of the clothes was even more spellbinding up close when Browne had his models standing in a dazzling fairy-tale tableau at the end of the show, complete with sleeping beauties. Technically speaking, the approach had a surprisingly simple narrative: Take all the familiar American tropes, including plaid, madras, and quilting, and render them in tulle. In a season of transparency, Browne’s use of the delicate fabric was undoubtedly the most impressive. But beyond the intricacy and ethereal nature of the clothes, there was a bigger, more important story here. Where some designers submerge themselves in the real world, Browne has always posited fashion as fantasy, dreaming bigger, pushing the eye to places it didn’t know existed. At a time when the world feels like a pretty bleak place indeed, his brand of escapism is more appealing than ever. It only makes sense then, that Browne should close his show with a life-size unicorn puppet instead of a bride—the mythical creature is surely his spirit animal. The fashion world could use more of his kind.
