Marni’s Resort reads as a sort of prequel to a narrative trilogy, which was subsequently expanded in designer Francesco Risso’s men’s and women’s Spring 2020 fashion shows. The imaginative Risso conjured up for this pre-collection a surreal fictional subtext, one in which kindred spirits Elizabeth Taylor and Che Guevara seduce each other in the deep of the South American jungle. To further thicken the already quite improbable plot, extras like a gang of smart-dressed Guerrilla Girls and the flamboyant Frida Kahlo were recruited to provide fashionable cameos.
More often than not, storytelling fails to translate into a readable style (in fact, it’s a term so preposterously overused in fashion that it’s lost any meaning). Yet in Risso’s hands, the hourglass-y glamour of Liz Taylor and Che Guevara’s debonair militant attire came together in a series of rather convincing propositions. The by-products of this unlikely union were more beguiling than belligerent. Martial-inspired coats were given a feminine twist, cinched at the waist with elasticated anatomical corsets, and womanly décolletages graced curvaceous zip-up bustiers that looked like cropped vintage bathing suits from the ’50s. The bustiers were worn with snap-buttoned straight skirts in thick leather, as if cut from the leftovers of a surplus military coat. Elsewhere, the classic camouflage patterns of guerrilla uniforms were hybridized into floral motifs in a vivid shade of green, underlining the collection’s mischievous pull between discipline and sensuality.
Construction-deconstruction dynamics were also at play on shapes: A field jacket with huge pouch pockets could be disassembled and transformed into a cropped, daintier version, while a shapely dress straight out of the ’50s was reincarnated as a slender, minimalist shift, the only memory of its past life lingering in a contrasting asymmetrical panel pinned askew at the front, as if by chance.
The polarity between feminine shapes and militant uniforms was elsewhere mitigated by echoes of the sumptuous aesthetic of Frida Kahlo and by the feminist flamboyance of the Guerrilla Girls. These could be perceived in folksy black silk dresses with puff sleeves, or in heart-shaped bustier numbers with juxtaposed side-draped aprons, painted with abstract flambé patterns. The clothes conjured images of rather stylish seditionaries.
“Resort was the first foray into the jungle,” said Risso. “It’s from here that we started exploring the guerrilla spirit, which evolved in the men’s and women’s collections into a more overt stand on sustainability, social responsibility, and engagement on protecting the environment.” He continued: “We involved in the process artists like Judith Hopf, who regenerated all the discarded plastic that served as backdrop for the men’s show into the women’s phantasmagorical recycled jungle.”
The men’s looks presented here were subdued and urban, almost classic. Car coats in Harris tweed, straight-cut blazers worn with ankle-cropped pants, and four-pocket safari jackets in thick cotton canvas were more fit for the everyday wardrobe of a geeky guy about town than that of a hot-blooded revolutionary. “It’s because El Che met with Truman Capote and they got engaged!” enthused Risso, elaborating on the trilogy’s storyline. According to the designer’s surreal tale, the diminutive American writer falls desperately in love with Guevara. And what about the poor Liz? She probably left the ménage à trois to wander about the Amazon; for all we know, she might’ve even joined the Guerrilla Girls.
