Fendi Goes Green

Not quite, but there’s that green and not any green

To be sure, there are other colours in Fendi’s spring/summer chromatic proposals, but it is that green that bothers us. Two weeks ago, Kim Jones dabbled with the blue of Tiffany for the resort 2023 collection. They appeared on clothing and accessories. That particular blue is so associated with the brand that it bears the name of the company. And it is so identified with the retailer’s boxes and paper bags that it’s hard to imagine it for boiler suits and, harder, for the Baguettes. Yet, the colour was used sufficiently. And now for the Fendi RTW, there is that what-do-you-call-it green. To be sure, this does not have the same visual impact as Bottega Veneta‘s eponymous green, introduced under former designer Daniel Lee’s tenure, during the spring/summer 2013 show. Still, it perplexes us, especially when a model in a pair of platform slides in that green nearly fell and, out of her own safety, decided to remove them, and hold them in her hand. Are they uncomfortable slides? Are they hard to walk in? Is it the green that should be on kindergarten walls, not clothes or footwear?

If a bright green is not your thing, there is that pink. It is not a Barbie pink or a Millennial pink. It is one that could be considered grown-up pink perhaps, not too sweet, with just the right amount of brightness that, like the green, would draw attention, or stop traffic. In fact, the green and the pink (some call it flamingo) remind us of those used to distinctively colour Tyvek wrist bands—the ones cuffed on you to identify you as guest, paid or invited, at festivals, raves, or private events. And then there is the blue, the final of a trio of key colours. The blue is not as eye-catching as the other two—somewhere between lapis and Miranda Priestly’s favourite cerulean (after the Tiffany blue, they do not need another that bright?). These colours give the pop to an otherwise rather neutral palette, one that perhaps underscores the wearability of the collection. If the clothes are a no-brainer, then perhaps the colours could pique?

Kim Jones most definitely created many wardrobe friendly pieces with the 66-look collection. These are clothes for the pandemic-over world, when you are out and about, when you want to be dressed to mark a return to fashion and fashionable company. For quite a while we’ve been confined to not just our cheerless existence, but our drab clothes. With our social life back in full swing, the clothes must reflect that too, with more than a hint of the late ’90s and what we increasingly identify as models’ off-duty looks. Easy cardi and combat pants: How not off-duty are they? To be sure, there are on-duty looks too. White shirts under sweaters and teamed with slim skirts: How not on-duty are they? But if you are a socialite and that your duty is bound to that, there are plenty to delight those who desire a fashion language to communicate with those who might benefit from the knowledge that the wearers they are looking at are rich.

But if you need that message to be loud and clear, there is always the double-F logo of Fendi. Designed by the late Karl Lagerfeld in 2000, the broad, blockish, almost brutalist logo was primarily used as a buckle for accessories. But these days, they can appear anywhere, as seen in the resort 2023 collection, staged in New York to celebrate the 25th year of the Baguette, a bag that was wildly in demand also because of the double-F buckle. This time, the oblong metal with the two short lines within appears on straps to secure pocket flaps. But if that hardware is just too subtle, even obscure, how about sweaters with hems that can be turned from inside out—and up—to reveal another version of the double-F logo followed by the rest of the letters that spell Fendi. Perhaps that is more confidence-boosting than a shot of colour.

Screen grab: Fendi/YouTube. Photos: Fendi

And There She Was

As anticipated, Linda Evangelista appeared on the Fendi runway. Was Marc Jacobs, Fendi’s latest collaborator, sidelined?

Was it supposed to be Marc Jacobs’s moment? Or did Linda Evangelista steal his thunder? The Fendi show—the resort 2023 collection that also hailed the Baguette’s 25th year—was lauded to be so “big” that New York ”hasn’t seen” such a presentation in years. But the loudest applause was showered on Ms Evangelista when she walked in—not “strut down the runway”, as some reports described—to join the designers basking in the enthusiastic response to their work done. She strolled in like a star, rather than a model, wrapped in a taffeta coat the colour of an unmistakable Tiffany blue. She smiled and recognised the applauding support of her reappearance on the catwalk. Towering above the rest standing beside her, she looked good, with her black hair pulled back to reveal the recognisable face, but her body was obscured by outerwear that the late Andre Leon Telly would be thrilled to put on. However, the press described it, Linda Evangelista appeared to just show her face.

To be sure, Marc Jacobs encouraged the attention on her, jumping excitedly and gesturing madly to the audience to inspire a standing ovation. Ms Evangelista’s appearance was expected since last July, when the news-that-amounted-to-an-announcement emerged along her appearance in the Fendi ad for the Baguette. Marc Jacobs’s participation in the current Fendi show was not regarded as that likely since it was only rumoured in June (even earlier than the return of Ms Evangelista) that a “Marjendi”, as WWD called it, could be in the works. Fendi’s Kim Jones had already made Fendace happen, why diminish that novelty, even if tacky, by doing another even if the collaborator is a different person/brand? And would he really want to work with a former colleague? Apparently so. But unlike Fendace, the latest guest-designer-interprete-Fendi exercise did not have its own runway show. And Kim Jones did not decode Marc Jacobs.

This time, the hacking involved more than one other brand. There is additionally the now-LVMH-owned Tiffany & Co, as well as the Japanese bag maker Porter. Tiffany lent its distinctive blue to the clothes and bags, as well as bling in the form of diamonds on the Baguette, as well as jewellery. As for Porter, it is likely “homage” to Fendi’s It bag from 1997 in the form of lightweight iterations (frankly, we can’t tell which ones). Of the 54 looks shown, ten were designed by Marc Jacobs. And it was not hard to guess which ten. As soon as the models with the massive woolly hats appeared (reportedly made from recycled fur), we knew we’re in familiar New York territory, even if it was not in the Park Avenue Armory, or, as of late, the New York Public Library (after the bribery scandal regarding the use of the former). According to Mr Jones, Marc Jacobs, who is a “hero of (his) from day one”, was asked to put together a collection inspired by the Baguette. The connection was not immediately discernible, but the silhouettes of the ten looks that came at the end of the show did point to those Mr Jacobs has preferred since his autumn/winter 2021: ungainly and weird.

How these un-Fendi pieces add to the celebratory mood of the show isn’t clear. Or, exult over the past success of a bag that had already won its place in fashion and pop culture. Mr Jones stated in the press release of the show: “It’s a celebration of a time, of the moment the Baguette became famous”. As the Baguette needed to take centrestage, they appeared not just as the item itself, but as Baguettes on Baguette—mini ones acting as pouch pockets on a large piece, and with a surfeit of the double-F logo/buckle. It was also remade in other forms that were not a handbag—a marsupium on totes, even anorak pockets that double as hand warmers. And, it appeared practically everywhere a bag—micro as they were—could be placed: on hats, on clothes, on gloves, on socks, on leg warmers. No part of the Baguette could not be repurposed: Even the bag flap had a new life as pocket flaps! Who’d guessed that Carrie Bradshaw’s favourite bag could reincarnate so splendiferously? Perhaps one super of supers could. And did.

Photos: (top) gorunway.com and Fendi

Not Your Garden Variety?

Is Dior producing something blooming fine or are there just more gimmicks than usual?

Down the garden path, Dior leaves last season’s city sidewalk. The trail could be a winding one. The back story to Kim Jones’s Dior spring/summer 2023 is just as sinuous. In a nutshell, the Bloomsbury set (again) and gardens (but no cacti). The long trek, a self-absorbed fascination—hence connection—between Christian Dior and Duncan Grant, the British painter who was, seemingly, partial to male nudes, and was a costume designer, too. Part of the Bloomsbury group (which included Virginia Woolf and E.M. Forster) that Mr Jones is enamoured with, Mr Grant operated, since 1916, out of Charleston, a farmhouse in Sussex, south of England, not far from where the Dior designer keeps a country home and garden. But more significantly, at least to Mr Jones, is that both Mr Grant and Monsieur Dior shared the same day of birth, 21 January.

Alright, we are meandering. The point is the garden: two, in fact: that of Charleston and Mr Dior’s childhood home Les Rhumbs, in Granville, Normandy, Northwest France. In case we can’t imagine the blooms-filled, bucolic setting(s), a fake, prettified one is created for the presentation, including a 3-D backdrop of Les Rhumbs (and a photo wall of the English Channel behind it), ass well as Charleston on the opposite end. In his (translated) autobiography Dior by Dior, the creator of The New Look wrote: “Our house at Granville, like all Anglo-Norman buildings at the end of last century, was perfectly hideous. All the same I look back on it with tenderness as well as amazement. In a certain sense, my whole way of life was influenced by its architecture and environment.”

Mr Jones looks back with tenderness and amazement, too. But in casting his mind to the past, he endears himself to Duncan Grant, a man thought to be a fashion, social, and sexual rule-breaker of his time (this was in the early 1900s), as much as gardens of yore. But, as one reviewer in the Kirkus Review of art historian Frances Spalding’s Duncan Grant: A Biography opined, the “minor English painter and decorative artist… his mild artistic abilities will always be overshadowed by whom he knew and whom he slept with”. They also held the believe that “unquestionably, Grant was a decent copyist and a reasonable colorist with a good sense of line and form, but his style tended to ebb and flow with whatever was in vogue at the time, so that it is hard to pin down anything in his work as definitively ‘Duncan Grant’”. Sometimes, that thought comes to us, too: What is definitively Kim Jones?

In this collection, outdoorsy looks that some commentators call “cottagecore” are thought to be Mr Jones’s cabbage patch. There are, therefore, plenty of shorts—double shorts, in fact; or running shorts-looking pairs on top of fitted ones that could be for cycling. These are teamed with embroidered fleece jackets, their technical kin (in sort of a camo print), sweaters (including sleeveless ones) bearing the artworks of Duncan Grant that Mr Jones reportedly owns. His usual tailoring is there, too: jackets have softer shoulders, waists cut close to the body, and peaked lapels worn upturned, creating graphic interest for the neck. But something else is not seen before—blousy tops. Mr Jones has largely avoided the semblance of skirts (even his shorts are not that wide) or dresses for men. So two tops are fascinating. One is like an asymmetric, half-woven-half-netting take on a scrub; sleeveless, but one shoulder is extended, the other side, double strapped. The other, a long-sleeved top with a square-necked double yoke-flap (with brooch to hold both pieces in place). Feminine touches, no doubt. Enough? Kim Jones never promised anyone a rose garden.

Screen shot (top): Dior/YouTube. Photos: Dior

A Showy Amble

Walking on the path Gucci paved, Dior is showing its gaudy side.

The Dior Men’s spring—also known as resort or cruise, in case there’s any confusion—2023 season started rather straightforwardly enough. Like those of other luxury brands, Dior’s inter-season show is staged away from home, in Los Angeles, specifically the neighbourhood of Venice, in what is known as its “heart”— Winward Avenue, a flashy and touristy thoroughfare that cuts right to the famed Venice Beach Boardwalk. This could easily be the equivalent of Bangkok’s Khao San Road, if not visually, definitely in spirit. The runway, not flanked by buildings of architectural value or set against the Pacific Ocean (the Dior show is the second LVMH-owned brand to show in California this season after Louis Vuitton), is done up as if for a beach bash (complete with surging waves!). The clothes correspond to the waterfront party vibe, but with considerably more bling than one might be comfortable wearing to a littoral event with no guarantee that the sand won’t somehow get into shoes and clothes. Then we remember, this is California. The Californication of Dior.

It is open to view that Kim Jones is pandering to a Californian crowd with his California Couture, as the season is themed. Like other designers of European brands, such as Hedi Slimane, Mr Jones seems to have a thing for America (another collection for Dior was staged in Florida: Fall 2020), and this time, the clothes seems targeted at California’s most recognisable metonym for entertainment: Hollywood. And, of course, music. It is, therefore, easy to connect the styling to what stars operating out of this city would wear to go out to dine at high-profile restaurants, on date nights with equally famous other-halves, jam in a recording studio, attend movie premiers and music awards presentations, and, of course, to buy milk. This being the West Coast, the looks have to project unambiguously Californian Casual and Cool, if not exactly Couture. If Californian fashion has not been convincingly defined, what is California Couture, other than plain puffery? Or, perhaps the show is best described by the opening track: My Bloody Valentine’s Only Shallow?

By Mr Jones’s definition, French urban polish will look out of place in California. So the surf and the skate must come rolling in. There has to be commercial American staples, such as hoodies, pullovers, and hang-loose shirts, but being a tribute to Venice Beach’s “seedy glamour”, as described by Mr Jones to the press, all are given a meretricious makeover, in a manner we are already familiar with at Gucci: Their spring/summer 2022 show also in California—on Hollywood Boulevard—still so fresh in our mind. The blatant retro-ness may not be cresting at Dior, but the push-femininity-as-far-as-you-could ostentation is there: pearl-studded fisherman sweaters, jumpers woven with sparkly metallic yarns, mixed-media appliqued cardigans, newsprint tees, satin trousers, those with the cannage-quilting of Lady Dior bags, furry shorts, those with sequined hems, all teamed with the, frankly irritating, laces-untied sneakers. Dior is in California!

What we found starring at us, too, is Dior seemingly mocking itself. Could this be the label doing its own bootleg clothes. Before the counterfeiters strike? It is hard to say this of possibly one of the most-loved menswear lines in the luxury sphere: Some pieces are evocative of what one might find on Taobao. One really stood out for us: a long-sleeved cycling top with a triple chevron underscoring the four-letter brand name depicted in a font layout/placement we are desperately trying not to call cheesy. This season, part of the collection (those hoodies and puffers, for sure) was “guest-designed” by Eli Russell Linnetz of ERL, the much feted brand, especially among hip-hop circles. Mr Linnetz, a Venice Beach native, moves glowingly in the orbit of Kanye West; he directed Mr West’s Famous (yes, the one with recognisable stars in bed, naked) and Fade (yes, the one with Teyana Taylor dancing alone in the gym, quite naked) music videos, and dipped his hands in the now-untalked-of Yeezy line. In 2018, Dover Street Market came acalling. The rest is history, and, now, Dior. California is not dreaming.

Screen shot (top) and photos: Dior

Dior: Kim Jones The Soloist

Surprise! At Dior, Kim Jones offered no collaborations that set the tone of the collection

Kim Jones, the serial collaborator, is showing that he can have a go at a Dior collection all by himself (and with his design team). There are no artists or streetwear stalwarts to share the glory on the runway, no dead writer to inspire. (Accept, if you must consider them, the footwear with Birkenstock and the hats with Stephen Jones.) This is the 75th anniversary of Dior, and it is just Mr Jones and the legacy of the founder, or so it seems. Christian Dior did not design menswear during his time helming the house. Marc Bohan started Dior’s first men’s RTW collection in 1970. A decade later, there was a line called Dior Monsieur that, if we remember correctly, was mostly business wear. Then, in 2001, under the design direction of the then newish Hedi Slimane, the men’s RTW took off as Dior Homme. Kris van Assche succeeded Mr Slimane. It is not certain if his contribution to the development of Dior Homme is as sizeable as the former, but it would take Kim Jones to add considerable zing to the brand now mostly known as Dior Men.

This season, Mr Jones puts out a presentation that is Parisian in spirit, if not entirely in looks. A life-size replica of Pont Alexandre III, a deck arch bridge across the Seine that links the Champs-Élysées quarter and the areas of Invalides and Eiffel Tower. A fancy part of the capital, no doubt. It reminds us of the Chanel autumn/winter 2018 couture show, set against a fake walkway—sited along the Seine too—opposite the Institut de France. The Dior fellows breeze along the bannister, as relaxed as their finery are. We do not know if Monsieur Dior himself is partial to such casual styles (untucked shirts!), but he might approve the greys that dominate, especially a particular shade known as Dior Grey. Could this be Mr Jones at his most measured?

To us, some of the pieces look like they might have been designed by Maria Grazia Chiuri (perhaps it’s the beret?). She would have put out easy-to-wear blousons on top of round-neck sweaters, on top of shirts with the hem worn over slacks. The easy vibe aside, this could be Mr Jones’s most well-thought-out collection for Dior. Without aesthetical references from a collaborator, much of the pieces have to stand on their own. And quite a few do. Mr Jones has never been a careful-to-calibrate minimalist like his predecessor Mr Van Ascche. He has shown a soft spot for ornamentation, so pullovers are bedecked with flowers (purportedly as homage to Christian Dior’s own love for them) and blousons are petal-strewn. They are rather reminiscent of Raf Simons’s delicate blooms during his tenure with Dior women’s line. If you are not into florals, there is always the leopard print!

As with other houses this autumn/winter season, there is emphasis on the waist of jackets. Mr Jones, too, made them rather nipped-in. To be sure, his suit jacket is especially sharp this time, with lines of stitchwork and what seems like flocking (or frayed edges?) to augment the garment’s fetching trimness. And, soft too: There are those, as well as coats, that are gathered at the waist, creating a draped effect that relaxes the shoulders—tailoring seen more in womenswear then men’s. A certain body type is, of course, needed for guys to look good in them. The petite waist? Perhaps this is Mr Jones’s New Look for men. Will it be “quite a revolution”, as Carmel Snow remarked of the original in 1947? Hard to say, isn’t it?

Photos: Dior

Hint Of The Literary

Dior’s next season for men is inspired by the American novelist Jack Kerouac. Kim Jones is again a wanderer

“There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars” — On the Road: the Original Scroll, Jack Kerouac

The next season’s collections are showing earlier and earlier. Sure, the end-of-season sales have begun, but we have not celebrated Christmas. Yet, somehow brands are certain that we like seeing what we might desire to wear (at least) nine months later. Dior’s fall 2020 (with some reports labelling it as a “pre-collection”) appears just a day ago, and around the same time as the collection shown in Florida in 2019, also labelled “fall”. Based on the absence of winter coats, it is quite certain that the autumn/winter season will be staged in January next year. And, with the show brought to London, we can be quite certain that the not-in-Paris showing is resort/cruise/pre-whatever. Does it really matter? Would we remember?

Kim Jones may have brought the fall 2022 collection back to his home in London, but for the clothes, he had America in mind. A very specific America, based on the work of the Beat-Gen novelist/poet Jack Kerouac, whose contemporaries include Allen Ginsburg and William S Burroughs. Mr Jones’s fascination with the writers of literary movements first manifested itself early this year with his debut Fendi haute couture collection, which was inspired by the British Bloomsbury Group, a set that included Virginia Woolf, which prompted the press to suggest that he brought “Virginia Woolf chic to Paris”. There was nothing Woolfian about that collection. Similarly, it would be hard to find anything Kerouacian about the latest Dior.

But, Americana is evident. It is, however, not the Americana that Raf Simons imagined for Calvin Klein when he briefly designed for the label. Nor, Stuart Vevers’s for Coach. Mr Jones approach is more, shall we say, an amalgam of sources, not necessarily from the author of On the Road himself, who was not especially noted for his sartorial strength, even if he was considered a “looker”. Prior to attaining fame as a writer, Jack Kerouac was a sportsman (he played [American] football in college, before he dropped out), a gas station attendant, a construction worker, and, very briefly, a marine.

Mr Jones had elements of workwear in the collection, but a few pieces looked to be inspired by what Junya Watanabe has been doing for years, including the contrast-coloured straps on the outers. Or those blazers with contrast utility pockets an additional shirt placate. Even those Fair Isle sweaters, were they not explored in Mr Watanabe’s current autumn/winter collection? Sure, there is a vague ’50s vibe in the collection, but missing is the certain roughness—aided by sex, drugs and jazz—that unabashedly described and played up in On the Road. The only literal association is the set of the show: a reported 80-metre long scroll that represents Mr Kerouac’s own 120 feet (36.5m) long manuscript for On the Road, that according to lore, was written in three weeks.

The Dior fall 2022 collection does not appear to be put together in such a haste. And, that, to us, is perhaps why it looks so inauthentic. To be fair, it is one of Mr Jones’s better collection, but if the Beat Generation is noted for their waywardness and rebelliousness, the clothes seem too composed and calculated, and devoid of the risk-willing and devil-may-care attitudes of the youths that one sees from reading Jack Kerouac. Was there too much concern with the street to be aware of being on the road? There is no denying that Mr Jones’s Dior embraces elegance, but some styles appear to be from the Giorgio Armani play book, in particular look 39—the mocha-coloured, asymmetric, stand-collared leather jacket (itself seemingly like a fitted take of a vintage Swedish army motorcycle jacket), teamed with mottled grey wool pants. To strengthen the likeness, the model wore a beanie and a pair of sunglasses. Search as we have, no image of Jack Kerouac came to us that way.

In On the Road, Mr Kerouac wrote: ”The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn like fabulous yellow Roman candles.” We are not hoping that Mr Jones—or Dior—become this mad (although that would be great), but we really wish to see something burn, even if just a flicker.

Screen grab (top) and photos: Dior

When Two Kims Got Together

Tight just got tighter

By Mao Shan Wang

In July, when Kim Kardashian posted on Instagram a photo of her with Donatella Versace and Kim Jones (a post liked by over 2.6 million followers to date), those who follow the three of them individually or as a group were quite sure they were up to something. A collab perhaps, I had thought, and you too, I’m sure. When the pairing of Ms Versace and Mr Jones were revealed, many thought Ms Kardashian was left out. But now we know. A collaboration was indeed in the works between the two Kims. That is, in fact, not surprising, but the result is. Well, somewhat. While Fendace was all gaudy-go-not-lightly, the un-named Fendi X Skims (fortunately not Fendims!!!), is rather tasteful (did I just write that?), if a little too tight. But, before you hit back, yes, it is shapewear and what is shapewear if they do not constrict enough to shape? Maybe I am not sure if all the contouring and lifting is that comfortable. If only Skims were available to the staffer assisting Sylvia Chan for the Preetipls shoot. Her angry boss may not then bitchily compare the rapper to a “rhinocerous”, in a three-word sentence that, incredibly, also included the name of an Aramaic-speaking religious leader of the Herodian Kingdom of the Roman empire!

I have to say I have never worn Skims (can you imagine it was initially called Kimono? 😲). The only shapewear I have tried (and I say tried because it was on me for, like, 15 minutes!) was Spanx—I received it as a Christmas gift years ago. It is possible that this name is now largely forgotten, but back then, it was the go-to brand for looking trim or keeping parts of the body from spilling everywhere. It is still big in the US (which is the largest shapewear market, I was told). Now, to make that kind of stretchy inner wear that gives you shape where there may be none, synthetic fabrics are used almost entirely, mainly nylon and spandex, which means they don’t necessarily allow the body/skin to breathe. And in this weather of ours, five minutes outside air-conditioning and you’d start to itch. And in all the wrong places. Fabric technologies have, of course, changed and improved. Skims probably benefits from this. Which may explain the far wider product offering of the Fendi X Skims collab.

Kim Kardashian has already made Skim quite the name in shapewear. It is reportedly now worth more than USD1 billion. She clever describes her offering, “solutions for every body” (Rihanna’s Savage X Fenty caters to just as many bodies, but she calls her shapewear ‘cinchers’). With Fendi, she appears to take it a step further. The collab offers, on top of shapewear, lingerie, swimwear, gym wear, onesies, dresses, and even outerwear (there’s even a hoodie outer). And in colours other than black and ‘skin’. A green which is akin to military fatigues is part of the colour story. Oh, there are bags and shoes too. Is Ms Kardashian readying her brand as a full fashion line? Or are the two Kims acknowledging that more and more women are taking the inners out, showing considerable amount of skin as a result. To be sure, the collection, a limited edition, is not as sexy as I thought it would be. I mean there is a lot of fabric used. At least from the images I have seen so far. Well, if you are going to be logo-centric or monogram-mad, which Fendi is increasingly becoming, you’d need a considerable amount of fabric to have, in this case, the logotype to go on and on and on. Even on the sheers (see-throughs, to some), it is logo galore.

Talking about images, the publicity shots are lensed by Steven Meisel and styled by a name I have not heard for quite a while: Carlyn Cerf de Dudzeele. In 1988, Ms de Dudzeele styled Anna Wintour’s first Vogue cover. Ms Kardashian is, unsurprisingly, placed front and centre in all the images, even the one (above) featuring other women, which I assume is the main image. The casting is, well, inclusive, although the Asian girl Jessie Li is styled to look quite angmo. Amazingly all the models’ hair are in motion or afloat, even when they are seated. To reflect the energy of the collaboration? Not many people are convinced of the need or usefulness of this tie-up. A fashion designer I know texted me to say: “sadly, Karl (Lagerfeld) taught them nothing and left them nothing to use”. Fendi may have gone into haute couture, but I don’t think they wish to avoid the market that is closer to grassroots. There’s a fortune to be made in bodysuits and the like. Kim Kardashian have already proven it. In Korea, the family name Kim (as in Daniel Kim) is the equivalent of the Chinese Jin (金), which also means gold. Is Fendi and Skims heading for that win—double gold, to boot? I really think so.

Fendi X Skims will be available on 9 November (from 9pm, our time) at fendiskims.com. Photos: Kim Kardashian/Instagram. Collage (top): Just so

Fendace Is Verdi Real

It’s dubbed The Swap, but in a world with too many labels and too much clothes, are the Fendi and Versace I-do-you, you-do-me collections necessary? Are they at all nice?

It looks like Milan Fashion Week has its climax show to end the festivities. The “unexpected” Fendi and Versace or Fendace collaboration, or “hack”, to steal from present-day, pandemic-poised parlance, really took place after the initial rumour grew more heads than on Medusa’s. And rather than a reprisal of the Gucci/Balenciaga manoeuvre in April (or vice versa), Kim Jones (and design partner Silvia Venturini Fendi) traded places/brands with Donatella Versace to “interpret” the other house’s aesthetics and codes. The result is high on the marketing potential of the idea than the ideation itself, more brash than dash, more Versace than Fendi. It isn’t clear yet, which brand will stand to gain. Versace, fresh from a showing just three days earlier had already jog one’s memory about those ideas that make the house instantly recognisable, do they need another splashy retelling? Or, is this Fendi trying to go hipper, playing down Mr Jones’s banal muliebrity in his reimagination of the brand?

It is like his Shein moment, her Boohoo, all TikTok-ready, influencer-approved. Sure, we understand that we are living in such times, but must we see Fendi go from soignée a week earlier to meretricious now, Versace go from Versace to Versace Max? It is understandable that brands love mash-ups and, possibly, their customers too, but is it really time to blur aesthetic lines when no side gains? One SOTD reader was clearly dismayed when he texted us this morning about Versace’s interpretation of Fendi, “In the end, it just looked like two Versace shows; one better than the other! Apart from the monogram, there was sadly, no Fendi to speak of.” Make that three if you count the spring/summer 2022 show of the main line. “It’s the first in the history of fashion,” Ms Versace said through a media release. On both front, yes.

No one is mistaken that this is Sacai’s Chitose Abe doing Jean Paul Gaultier and certainly not, if a pop reference is preferred, Lady Gaga doing Cole Porter! It is all about the hype. Do we still remember that? Or has hype been so over-hyped that we are more immune to it than one relentless virus? Is hoopla so blah that we need to revive it. And throw in some old-time catwalk excesses (a revolving Medusa logo reveals the double F?) and other-era models to up the surprise factor (since there are none in the clothes)? Sure it is a delight to see Kristen McMenamy playing Donatella Versace, Mariacarla Boscono still looking good, and Kate Moss looking not, but when it comes to Naomi Campbell closing the show, it really is a bit jelak. Did she not just appear in the earlier Versace show, in the same swagger?

There is the laughable name too. Sure, the project can be cheekily referred to as Fendace (the lazy conflation of Fendi and Versace), but when it is actually spelled out as a real brand, it sounds like something you would find in Mahboonkrong Centre in Bangkok, among the Armanee jeans, Frid Perry polos, Adibas kicks, and Relax watches. Clearly ‘Verdi’ is not allowable—a national icon deserves far greater respect. Perhaps this is a dig at the Chinese counterfeiters who can’t spell. Still, could they not think of something less Qipu Lu, Shanghai? We have no idea if this would appear as a label on the back of the clothes, but since Fendace is already there as a belt buckle and on the bags (including those Book wannabes), so expect nothing less. According to reports, the project was brewing since February although the news broke that it would be a sudden coming together of the brands only this week. Designers taking over as new creative directors of other brands have precocious less to work with. A waste of resources, just to feed the empty hype?

The show opens with Kim Jones and Silvia Venturini Fendi doing Versace. One senses this is really the job Mr Jones was after, rather than the Fendi appointment. Loud is waiting to jump out of him, and he creates the chance to allow it to radiate, but could he do loud better than Versace has been? It is not hard to see that Mr Jones is not particularly adept at handling or mixing prints. Or squeeze out more. The florid Versace silk dresses and separates look like they could come from a lame season of the now-defunct Versus. Donatella embracing Fendi, a house so unlike the one her brother founded, conversely, appeared the more triumphant among the trio, leaving every identifiable Versace hallmark where they can be left, like a canine marking her territory. Even the Fendi monogram is treated to Versace-esque colours. No garment is free of Medusa heads, animal prints, Oriental frets, Baroque swirls… whatever could be squeezed onto a silk screen. If not, there is always the chain mail.

Is it because the show took place on Versace’s turf? Would it be different if it is staged at Fendi’s headquarters? Will it be there next? Would there be a next? Where would the clothes and accessories be sold? Both lines at each other’s stores? Just as the show was live-streamed on both brands’ website, on visually similar pages? High-high pairings (in this case, one French-owned—LVMH and the other by American upstart Capri Holdings) may be trending now, but how Fendace will pan out is perhaps too early to tell. The idea may not have been explored before, but the execution is nowhere near radical. And, it is hard to see the sustainability (in every sense of the word) of The Swap. It is a showy novelty set up to wane.

Photos: Fendi/Versace/Fendace

Music Cred To Boost Whatever That Needs Boosting

Dior has enlisted Travis Scott for input. Is Kim Jones showing off just how well connected he is?

Why do it alone when you can do it with someone else? Serial collaborator Kim Jones is at it again. Just fresh off a design partnership with Sacai, he has paired with Travis Scott to give the hip-hop star, considered one of the most stylish of them all, a jab at designing luxury clothes. Mr Jones’s Dior is increasingly a community club for people he appreciates to come and lend their voices. Many are not from fashion, but the art world. Sacai’s Chitose Abe was the second fashion professional after Shaw Stussy (the collabs with Alyx and Yoon Ahn yielded only accessories) to be invited. Ms Abe is considered a mountain of a talent and will soon present her debut haute couture for Jean Paul Gaultier, yet she was asked to collaborate on a 57-piece, off-season capsule Dior collection. Mr Scott, whose fashion talents are as a “style icon”, with a “cool wardrobe” and prolific drops in sneakers and other streetwear items linked to his name, gets to do the main line of a main season.

It is not likely Travis Scott’s input is the same as Chitose Abe’s, yet the Dior spring/summer collection features him as their star collaborator. For those in doubt of Mr Travis’s skill level (admittedly we are among the many; we still are), Dior released a video clip on Instagram, showing La Flame working (er, looks to us he was struggling) at a sewing machine. But that perhaps doesn’t matter as fans of the brand and the man would likely find that cute. What matters is the name—also the father of Kylie Jenner’s daughter (we do not know if the parents are married or if they are even together). Perhaps, just as importantly is Mr Scott’s standing as a fashionista and a fashion impresario. The collab is known as Cactus Jack Dior, so named because of the support to youngsters that Mr Scott’s Cactus Jack Foundation, a spin-off of his Cactus Jack Records (there is also a books division Cactus Jack Publishing), offers to those seeking fashion education. There were initial problems with the use of the Cactus Jack name—even the WWE tried to stop it being trademarked as the professional wrestler Mick Foley shares the same (nick)name—but Dior presses on with the association.

The image that the cactus often brings to mind is a desert, and it is in this (make-believe) setting that Dior’s show was staged. (Arid lands are themselves a recurrent set theme this menswear season.) This desert tableau is, according to the house, to “celebrate” Christian Dior’s first visit, in 1947, to the United States, where his first port of call was Texas (Mr Scott is Texan!), “whose grand canyons and huge dusty deserts made a lasting impression”. But the runway now isn’t quite that arenaceous vastness; it is prettified—to better frame what pre-show publicity had the media called a “blockbuster collaboration”. Everything is oversized: the desert roses, the cacti (naturally), fungi and a cattle skeleton head. So is the star power. Following the show, the press called it “the first major celebrity fashion moment”. The clothes? Just watch what Travis Scott wears!

In a 2017 interview with GQ Australia to promote his collaboration with the Aussie brand Ksubi, Mr Scott said, “I’m not like a fashion designer, but (the output of the collab) is like a piece of my brain.” In all likelihood, fashion for surviving the desert is the furthest from the designing duo’s minds. It is not immediately clear what is Mr Scott’s contribution to the partnership (other than the graphics such as the cartoonish Dior logotype), but styling tricks are more apparent than disruptive designs. Recurrent are the jackets, worn with the peaked-lapels upturned to reveal their bi-coloured underside. Other lapel shapes are given similar treatment so that the look is near-Edwardian primness and slimness. The lapels, with the left over the right, are held up together with brooches, designed by Dior’s resident jewellery designer Victoire de Castellane, that are attached to a chain and secured to the left ear, just like an Indian nose chain, except fastened to a spot on the jacket just below the collarbone. Every model in such a get-up looks affected. More dressed down are the oversized T-shirts, pulled over tailored looks (lapels worn conventionally), like a teen mistakenly wearing a concert tee instead of a sweater, over a suit instead of under. There are, of course, sweaters, but what their specific place is in fashion, set in a desert is not quite clear.

Not to be left out are the feminine silhouettes seen elsewhere during these past fashion weeks. Floaty poncho-shirts with busy scribbles by American artist George Condo, bell-bottom pants and those that could be unzipped from the hem of the outseams to give a wider leg opening, and layered shorts that could give the impression of skirts at a quick glance keep to the overall mood of the moment. Accessories are similarly less mannish. Apart from the jewellery (and whatever those sparkly danglies swinging from belt loops are), there are the getting-smaller-by-each-season bags (is the man bag still of popular usage?). For once the Saddle bag—now even with a saddle handle!—seems be to be set in the right context. Giddy-up! This is perhaps a cross-border triumph of inclusivity for Dior: a British designer collaborating with an African-American designer from Texas. The brand has a Black-creative ally. At last.

Photos: Dior

West Meets East: Dior X Sacai

Kim Jones shows how much he admires Chitose Abe as Sacai becomes his latest Stussy

Dior is on a collaboration roll. Sacai is on a collaboration roll. It’s really a matter of time when the two brands will find each other. We’re surprised it was not sooner. Dior’s Kim Jones wrote on Instagram that Sacai’s Chitose Abe “has been a friend for about 15 years”. It’s amazing that in this time, Mr Jones has not thought of pairing with Ms Abe. Until the pandemic strikes and he misses “friends and travel”; until he could no longer visit Japan, where he and his team “visited a lot”. “We started a conversation about working together,” he wrote, “and did this collection over a period of lockdown, sending samples and sketches back and forth.” Collaboration has, for a long time, the sense of cooperating in close proximity. Now, that may only be feasible by connecting remotely and digitally. It does make us wonder if the partnership would have yielded a stronger result if they had, in fact, been able to be in each other’s company and allowed the proverbial ideas to bounce off each other.

The images that Dior made available to the media do not really reveal a lot. Sacai’s clothes are always more complex than they appear, but how much of that complexity is absorbed into the Dior aesthetic isn’t immediately discernible. Mr Jones isn’t the kind of designer that Ms Abe is—a brilliant and tenacious technician. He tends to play it straight. Hybridisation is not his forte. Nor, are unusual cuts (Ms Abe was a pattern-maker at Comme des Garçons before starting her own label). Compare Mr Jones’s ‘remake’ of Nike’s Air Jordan 1 for Dior (which is still asking five-figures sums!) to Ms Abe’s Nike Blazer for Sacai (we’ll just stick to basketball shoes). And the difference is clear. One is happy to go with the as-is, while the other is eager to see what are other possibilities, such as ripping apart and redoing. Or, perhaps, the mere pairing of Dior and Sacai is hybridising itself?

With a touch of Sacai, Dior is looking better than ever. The 57-piece capsule still bears the touches of Kim Jones, for sure. The clothes definitely is still amped-up to hit luxury’s high notes—for example, the fabrics are still heavy—but they look less couture-fied, as if Ms Abe had, at her end in Tokyo, relaxed this and that. There is the clearly casual ‘shacket’ (shirt-jacket that is more a Japanese obsession than French), with zipped pockets that might have been plucked from an MA-1 bomber jacket, which Ms Abe often reinterprets or adapts from. In fact, no Sacai anything is complete without it and the MA-1 makes it Dior appearance, slightly longer and with a two-zip fastening. Another Sacai detail is the draw-cord hem on shirts—Dior didn’t omit that. Nor, the Sacai two-layer shirttails that contrast the woven with the knit. Re-looking at the images, what struck us as possibly clever is that Dior fans will see Dior and Sacai followers will be able to suss out Sacai.

And there are the accessories. The Diorness is unmistakable, as in their structured forms. And, of course, the Saddle Bag, but now, not offered in its original (reintroduced) shape. A Prada-ish tote, for example, comes with the signature leather flap of the Saddle. A D-ring attached to one end of the handle allows a water bottle and its nylon/leather sleeve to be attached. The side of the bag also sports lacing that is reminiscent of backpacks that have similarly fastened cords to hold skateboards. These function-first details, often seen in Sacai designs, is very much a Japanese design vernacular and is often seen in the work of Sacai’s compatriot label Kolor (Ms Abe is married to its founder/designer Junichi Abe). But perhaps the most coveted will be anything with the new logo: the Dior text with Sacai stretched out on the ‘i’. And if one, emblazoned across the back of a top, is any indication, Dior is going to have another Stussy in its hands.

Photos: Brett Lloyd/Dior

We Need A Break From Kim Jones Collabs

Air Dior is done and sold. Kim Jones doesn’t need to milk that success. His collaboration with Nike shows it

By Ray Zhang

Kim Jones can’t do any wrong. From his bringing together Louis Vuitton and Supreme to Dior and Nike, everything he touched had turned to gold. What’s next, I wonder—Fendi and whoever, whatever? But before there’s that, Mr Jones has put his own name to sit alongside Nike’s in a collaboration that many had thought might be as exciting as the shoe for Dior, probably the most hyped sneaker in the history of luxury-brand collabs. Nike X Kim Jones is the coming together of two big names in an iteration of streetwear that overplays hoopla, not design. If the publicity material and the merchandise are not identified by Mr Jones’s name (or in the case of the logo used on the clothing, the initials KJ), these could be any merchandise in Nike’s regular drops. Or something you might consider at ASOS… when they are offering a store-wide 20% discount.

Perhaps I have overlooked something here. Were these put out for kids who missed out on the Dior collab, or those who could not afford the (from) S$3,100 a pair shoes? And those who are happy to just wear anything as long as they are associated with a trending name? Frankly no one needs to pay S$149 for “classic nylon bottoms”, as Nike describes a pair of very standard-issue track pants. Or, $69 for a “short-sleeve (sic) tee” that is accompanied with a curious description: “Neon hues are combined with a reflective design Nike Air graphic to give this top an essential feel”. Or (I cringe mentioning this), the socks (S$29), with the Nike Air logo on one side and KJ on the other. Seriously? Even the sole shoe, an Air Max 95 (S$299), with orange highlights and, on the upper, “Morse code-like pattern” (I, and so many of us here at SOTD, prefer the sound), is probably one of the most uninspired interpretations ever.

…one is well thought-out and thought-through for both design and performance, while the other is basically commercial fluff

Mr Jones has had quite a track record in making athletic clothes somewhat cool and mind-bogglingly desirable. Since his work for the UK brand Umbro back in 2008, with its references to British football culture, he has been known to have an eye to sift out sportif and cultural reference to bring something to whoever. But they have never been, to me, as crave-arousing as, say, those by A-Cold-Wall*. I won’t even bring up Gyakusou, Nike’s successful, eleven-year-old pairing with Jun Takahashi, for comparison, since one is well thought-out and thought-through for both design and performance, while the other is basically commercial fluff.

In many ways, Mr Jones’s output reminds me of the equally lacklustre Nike collaboration with Riccardo Tisci in 2017, which also featured the initials of the designer. Given that there is increasingly more design-driven pairings between sportswear and designer labels, I would have thought that Mr Jones might have tried a tad harder. Sure, I did not expect him to do a Sacai, but neither did I regard such bland take to happen. Even the placement of the Nike Air logo on the apparel suggests to me a what-the-heck, just-plonk-it-here approach. If Nike’s pairing with Kim Jones can’t yield even a fraction of the design savvy in the former’s own truly appealing and often fascinating Nikelab or the ACG (All Conditions Gear) line, they should really not bother. Nike—and all of us—deserves better.

Photo: Nike

Boring As Real

Kim Jones’s RTW debut for Fendi is all about realness to better capture the mood of the moment. That means abandoning excitement

It is the most anticipated show of the season, but we are not holding our breath. And true enough, nothing to hold for. Kim Jones, the maestro of hype, delivers “real clothes” for his ready-to-wear debut at Fendi, as the media reports. And how he is inspired by the Fendi sisters. Or, how, as he tells WWD, “I want all my friends to go, ‘I want that straight away,’” Real, of course, comes in many realities. What is real for Mr Jones’s friends, such as Kate Moss, or the Fendi sisters, may not be the same real for the rest of us, the non-friends. It seems the Dior Men designer has assembled wardrobe essentials for this very coterie that share an aesthetic with a provenance that can be traced to different points/moments in the ’70s, an era many designers reviving heritage fashion houses tend to revisit. The ’70s was also when Fendi’s women’s RTW began (1977, in fact), and it would seem that back to that decade is a good place to start Fendi anew, even when, to be fair, the looks aren’t immediately obvious. But does the Roman house need this comfortable position or do are they better served if they are moved a little further forward?

This return-to-the-past-to-find-the-present approach tends to yield a certain aegis against the shifting winds of trends or the risk of innovation. You know Mr Jones isn’t going for groundbreaking when the Fendi show opens with the first 12 looks in different shades of camel, a colour that often brings to mind furs of a particular era—and, oddly and possibility problematically, there are quite a lot of furs. This bathing in browns (except a break in off-whites and an occasional pink) seems to directly challenge what merchandisers and buyers have been saying for many years: such colours don’t sell. Not chestnut, mocha, not even chocolate. But, perhaps, Fendi sees colour differently. One tone, head to toe, might just be the chromatic wow that their customers need as shoppers surrender to the practical and Mr Jones succumbs to the pragmatic. Remember real.

Separates are key. Mr Jones’s approach to line development seems akin to what he does for menswear: dispense with the unpredictable, forgo the capricious. There are blazers, trench coats, dusters, pants, pencil skirts, cropped shirt-and-pants combo (a la silk satin pajamas), and even a boiler suit. Is this traipsing into Max Mara territory, even if more luxuriously realised? Many looks will thrill those pining for the return of executive wear, which perhaps go hand in hand with what we see as the golden age of commercial luxury fashion of the past 10 years, beginning with Hedi Slimane at Saint Laurent (second tenure) in 2012. Mr Jones is aware of keeping the books healthy and sales buoyant at Fendi, just as he was just as alert at both Louis Vuitton and Dior Men. His merchandising stunts with Supreme and Air Jordan were masterful money-making strokes. For most of his time at LVMH, his sense of highly approachable fashion was largely supported by his close cadre of chums. The Fendi RTW seems to reflect his friends—maturing—wanting matured looks, but not too. The thing is, his pal Victoria Beckham turns out a more convincing and charming real!

Designing real clothes to spread their reach brings to mind a similar strategy that Riccardo Tischi gave Burberry in 2018. We can’t say with certainty that Burberry is headlining anything now, just coasting. Today, at Fendi it’s similarly a rock-not-the-boat “evolution than revolution”. To be sure, Karl Lagerfeld himself was a designer with sharp commercial instincts, but his output, at least for Fendi, was mostly free of the burdens of the past or house codes. Kim Jones’s designs seems to be on collision course with his predecessor’s near-morbid disdain for reprising the past, so much so that he called his debut RTW a “palette cleanser”. Is that like saying people are jelak (tired) of the old Fendi?

Photos: Fendi