Here is a counterintuitive thought: Burberry becomes better when Riccardo Tisci lets himself put more of his own Italian self into it. His knowledge of the craft of cutting and draping, acquired in Paris at Givenchy, his European instinct for sophisticated sexiness and his affinity for modern fabrics are some of his natural strengths. That, and his proven track record in bringing diversity to the runway and garnering the following of a youth audience. Notwithstanding the corporate responsibility of somehow finding ways to represent the Britishness of Burberry to the world (the most confusing of tasks when even the British themselves are notoriously divided over what on earth that signifies) the more Tisci permits himself to be true to his personal sensibilities, the more the collection moves towards a distinctive signature.
After three seasons, he says, the market has started to respond. “You know, it’s a big job. When I arrived, I wanted to go slowly. Now I start to feel more comfortable in my place, to understand a different London,” he said after the show. “The trench and the check are going to be forever-icons of the house, but society changed, the world is changing and now people want to wear different things—and it doesn’t matter which country it comes from. So the globalization of style is a different approach for me today.”
Specifically, he said, “Tailoring has started to do super-well, especially for women; the chiffon blouses, sport things and the eveningwear which was not developed before.” Zoom to the suits—inside-out sartorial fits, with the white bindings showing, and to the run of developments in gray jersey, used in tailoring (women’s and men’s), coats and slinky but classy dresses. Allora: this is very much an Italian way of designing, with an innate awareness of how to dress smartly in a warm climate, utilizing the subtle structure of modern fabrics.
Monochrome, grays and khakis were Tisci’s through line for most of the show, with many variations of tonal tailoring ranging from modern businessperson suiting to short, leggy skirt suits with dippy hems in back. It helped that he’d dropped the distinction between the bourgeois and the edgy youth looks which had divided previous showings. This looked closer to elevation and consideration of design values across generations—a wise move when persuading customers to invest in a luxury fashion brand.
For young guys, to be sure, there were heartland Tisci-isms in the oversized rugby shirts, but the one pair of the baggy shorts that have been his signature since Givenchy days came covered in white lace and with a lace panel fluttering from the back of the matching T-shirt. Along with Virgil Abloh at Louis Vuitton and Kim Jones at Dior, Tisci is moving the Burberry culture towards a new kind of decorative masculinity.
Genuine voices and authentic skills are what make designers stand out today—and in a competitive climate, the powers of true fashion leaders, rather than mere brand operatives, are at a premium. Where Tisci says he connects with Burberry’s heritage is in the Victorian roots of its founder. Gothic Victorianism was an obsession of the young Italian from the outset of his career. We saw it surface amongst the white lace dresses he showed among the pretty, feathered and besparkled eveningwear: an appealing reclaiming of his own background in haute couture. And there was an accessory certain to get people talking: a merge of baseball cap and Victorian bonnet. From side view, the face-concealing peaks triggered audience members to draw comparisons to Handmaid’s Tale headgear. It was purely accidental. Asked about it, Tisci drew a blank. He’s not watched the series. As far as he’s concerned, it’s just a fun part of his mission to make Burberry great again.
