Veronica Leoni was swept up with a sense of nostalgia for an idealized version of American life in her second collection for Calvin Klein. Hard to say if it was heirloom or something found on Taobao
Americana isn’t an everyday reality; it’s a romanticised, almost mythical concept seen through the filters of Hollywood movies, rock and roll, and pop culture. It is possibly charming when viewed from afar, or in the ’80s, but these days, with the ugly side of the U.S. in full display, the charm feels particularly hollow.. Yet, European designers tasked with reviving legacy U.S. brands tend to Yankee cultural references with a veneer of intellectualism that falls flat on its face. A more recent example is the Italian designer Veronica Leoni, who just showed her second season for Calvin Klein. It was not clear if she was trying to make something that feels authentically American to Americans or offer an inane commentary on Americana.
Ms Leoni’s intellectual posturing took physical form from the very first look: a woman dolled up for work on a very, very clean barnyard, if not to milk the cows, possibly to seduce the farmhands. She wore a short, bare-back apron-dress with very skinny shoulder straps, in the colour of unbleached bread dough. In case her hair got in the way of whatever she was going to do, it was tied back with a matching headscarf. She wore no makeup since it would be hard to find even Maybelline in such rural land. Her shoes were flat slip-ons that could have been borrowed from a cheese maker on her day off. It was all rather sleek, of course. Daisy Duke buys her first expensive dress. A very agrarian Stepford Wife.
In interviews with the media, Ms Leoni previously spoke about her “personal dream of America” and her “fictional image of New York” while growing up, consuming American films and media. The fantasies and chimerical tableaux meant that her vision of a “cinematic” America for the current season began not only with a series of backless aprons, but also those considered intimate wear. To pay homage to Calvin Klein as an underwear brand, there was even a pair of long johns—with the brand’s famous waistband—worn over panties—another underwear—with the same waistband, making Marky Mark (now Mark Wahlberg) and Kate Moss in their famous CK ad oddly old-fashioned. Perhaps this was how the folks of the farm considered the height of urban sexiness. Double undies as pervese Americana?
There were attempts at serious fashion: frumpy, anti-fit dresses that only Carrie White’s mother would love for her daughter to wear to the prom, oversized jackets that should have been buried in a time capsule in the mid-2010s, and a couple of fringed dresses that made the models look like Yetis on a diet. And, inexplicably, more undies, but draped to have the crotch look trapped down there. It is tempting to see the collection as a clash of cultural perspectives, but her predecessor, Raf Simons who also offered his take of Americana, did not try to make a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll hold hands and go to bed. He created a cutting, artistic commentary on American identity by exposing its dark, scary underbelly. Veronica Leoni’s work, conversely, presented a beautified, but, regrettably, hollow and cheesy version of Americana.
Photos: Calvin Klein.



