Down south in French Basque country, in the village of Guéthary on the Atlantic coast, there is a nonprofit surf hostel meets gallery meets happening space named the Marienia. As Jonny Johansson described it, the place is wonderful—a bit like Tacheles in Berlin, the Chelsea Hotel, or the Rainbow Temple near Byron Bay—in that it attracts souls of an unconventional perspective who find themselves happily washed up there together. As he talked, I half recalled that the Marienia is also frequented by Shawn Stüssy “Yes!” Johansson said. “I have met him many times there. And Miki Dora stayed there. And this guy called Ivan [Terestchenko], who made the wonderful book Beyond Chic. There is this great melting pot of people coming in, going out, and it is a real cultural experience.”
As well as shooting this collection at the Marienia, Johansson literally replicated some aspects of it within the garments here; the pattern of a red-buttoned tunic was inspired by bedclothes, and there were flashes of hydrangea to reflect the bursts of color in the garden and an emphasis on burnished brown tones that reflected the paneling of the structure. Less literally, he also worked to recreate that melting-pot vibe by placing hippieish knits and tie-dyes against Lurex-licked suiting against seditiously spirited berets against sexy-boy flares.
The styling, less hectically try-hard than at some past Acne shows, nicely played up the creative unorthodoxy Johansson was working to evoke along with his parodically subversive reworking of military vintage. Especially covetable pieces to this eye included a paneling brown suede jacket fringed with black crochet work; a floral-print overdyed shirt in purple with four contrasting patch pockets in blue; some sort of gardener’s jodhpurs worn north of nearly knee-highs; T-shirt-caftan combos with gentle Rabin Huissen prints; and a suit in a croc pattern intended as mock in both senses.
There were lots in that melting pot, and overall this was an Acne collection containing much to enjoy staying in. And I’m not just saying that because Johansson opened our conversation by saying this: “When I design collections, it’s a very easy process: I just go for it. I’m scared of getting bad reviews...I’m scared of all of that, but at the same time, I can only do what I do.”
As the chat wound down, we returned to the subject: Why is he scared of getting bad reviews? “I only do this because I want you guys to like me, you know, for everyone to love me.” Oh, come on, really? But how could someone with the free-spiritedness and countercultural mien evoked in this collection allow himself to be confined—or even remotely care about—other people’s opinions? Why worry?
“I can explain. If you come to work and for six months you torture people with work, everyone’s really fighting to make something good. And then you come back after a bad review...you don’t even know that bad review has come because people don’t speak to you. Nobody calls for like three days or whatever.” Because they think you’re going to be furious? “Yeah…I try really never to read reviews because it doesn’t make me…” Relaxed? “Yeah...and also because it’s usually something true, you know? Which is something that hurts also.”
Miki Dora, former fellow resident of the Marienia, once observed: “Nothing influences me. I just go straight ahead in my thinking.” Sometimes you have to wipe out a few times before you catch the wave you’re after: Otherwise, you’re not really standing up.
