Even if we don’t say a word, you’ll still know what Gucci showed
It was reported that the latest collection was inspired by Rocket Man Elton John (not Kim Jong-un!). But it could have been Liberace, for all we know. The flashy jumble with a ’70s vibe that fans have come to love and expect cannot be missing in a Gucci show. And for that reason, it’s become increasingly hard to say anything different from what has been said before. Given its still-raging appeal, the season-to-season similitude is perhaps calculated—for the same reason brands are milking Rihanna’s fame for whatever it is worth.
“I think it’s no longer time to just talk about the clothes,” Alessandro Michele told members of the media. Shifting the attention away from the clothes is a clever move. Whatever can be said has been said. Or, could it be because Mr Michele has modest newness to offer, so the show, as with last autumn/winter’s, was presented in pertinacious gloom. Even their live stream did not factor the illumination needs of the videographer. The darkness and the relentless flashing of the strobe lights used was a test of the strength of eye muscles and of patience for clarity. How unbearable it must have been for the attendees or, maybe, charming for the adherents!
But the clothes still matter. Squint hard enough and you’ll see the usual light-catching obsessions now associated with Gucci, as well as the goofiness that has placed the brand firmly in the man/woman-repellent category of clothes that challenge conventional sex appeal. We gave some thought to the unfading Gucci optics. To reconcile the flashiness and our penchant for designs that are less flamboyant, it should, perhaps, be said that the ostentation Mr Michele is partial to has a long tradition in post-20th century dress.
The taste-indeterminate leaning of his designs against the tailored refinement of the Italian establishment is as old as Paul Poiret’s Eastern-inspired exotica in a climate of haute couture tastefulness. As the man famed for hobble skirts said in his biography En Habillant l’Époque (Dressing Up the Era), “The faintest of pinks, lilac, swooning mauve, light hydrangea blue, watery green, pastel yellow, and the barest blue—all that was pale, soft, and insipid was held in high esteem. So I decided to let a few wolves into the sheep’s pen…”
Mr Michele lets in more than mere wolves; he unleashes dragons and serpents; birds of incredible plumage and insects of conspicuous brilliance, and the odd cartoon character (e.g., a Bugs Bunny that’s camp than cartoonish); not to mention—in the current advertising campaign—Ultraman-age dinosaurs and monsters. Unlike Poiret’s colour preferences, selected to “raise the voices of the rest”, Mr Michele’s creatures, big and small, attempt to silence.
The Gucci look—and it is a look—is less one complete picture than the sum of individual images established in one item, assembled or styled, if you will, to tell a story that’s not necessarily coherent. And the look is as much aesthetic and strategic: stay with it until it is no longer weird or annoying to the majority, and desirable to the initially-skeptical. Fans, besotted from the start, consider this Alessandro Michele’s personal language. The communication, therefore, does not need to be changed every three months. Just let the chatter flow.