At face value, you could read Antonin Tron’s fall 2020 Atlein show as an assured and sharp-as-a-tack homage to the 1990s, a decade that’s been at the forefront of fashion’s consciousness for some time now, and most often with designers of Tron’s generation. It has definitely been a reference point for quite a few this season, as a more pared-down, stripped-back, and harder gloss and attitude have been permeating the work of designers all the way from New York through Europe to here in Paris.
Consider the evidence in Tron’s case. There was a definite glam-slam toughness to his (mostly) black minimalist tailoring: the killer curvaceous jacket in leather and quilted nylon which opened the show, say, or precision-perfect lean pants breaking floor-wards over she-means-business pointy pumps with a substantial cross-vamp strap. The same trousers, in leather, were worn with a black sleeveless tank that positively called out to be worn by some latter-day Kirsten Owen or Stella Tennant. Elsewhere, Tron, who wields scissors to jersey with an inordinate amount of flair, cut a silken black fabric into liquid—and witchy—bias-cut dresses and the slipperiest of skirts.
To further remind you of the era of Courtney and Kate, lace (the first time he had ever used the fabric) was worked into lingerie-inspired pieces—a gorgeous drape-front slip dress—or trimmed a few of the looks he conjured out of a snakeskin print, where reptilian scales slithered into a mineral stone motif or edged the bra tops which winked out from beneath his jackets. It was all extremely covetable and considered—grown-up cool, or coolly grown up (you choose)—and conveyed with a tightly focused urgency. And the show underscored that he is one of Paris’s best-kept...well, if not exactly secrets, certainly unsung young heroes.
But to merely see his work through the prism of the ’90s does it a huge disservice. Tron is a thoughtful and sensitive designer, one deeply committed to systemic overhaul to make positive change. Should you have read the profile of him in last November’s Vogue, you’ll know he’s an active member of Extinction Rebellion, and that black-line makeup on some of the models’ faces was a nod to an algorithm developed by Russian Grigory Bakunov to outfox facial recognition technology.
The fire and ire of Tron’s passion for what needs to be done is there in his designs, and not just the fact that the leather wasn’t actually the real thing but a vegan version. He has also been able to raise his use of upcycled fabrics to 50% of the collection; pre-show, he made the point that he works with whatever he can find, preferring to see it as a creative challenge rather than an aesthetic no can do.
That’s why it wasn’t really ’90s grunge-izens who hung over the proceedings, but a cast of creators and activists who aren’t nostalgically looking back at the last decade of the 20th century. Instead they are agitating for change in today’s challenging and, yes damn it, frightening world: environmentalist Julia Butterfly Hill, who lived in a tree for two years to fight deforestation, or artist Tomás Saraceno, whose work could be seen in the video that played at the show, highlighting his imaginative exploration of air travel which operates with heat and wind and not fuel.
The latter feels particularly appropriate right now, and not just because of our awareness of our carbon footprint; the growing fear over a coronavirus pandemic has added a palpable shiver of fear to worldwide air travel and to our global nervous system. But Tron would be the first to say there’s no point in hiding your head in the sand. Taking action, being fearless—That's is everything to him, just as it should be to the rest of us.
