After Jean Paul Gaultier, we went straight down the road to the Yohji Yamamoto showspace. Things we a lot tighter there but Amelie and I strode in and sat front row, just beside Scott Schuman of the Sartoiralist. The set was a kind of star shape with the models coming down several catwalks from a central point in a deconstructed utilitarian chic of low ceilings and metal fixtures. We caught sight of the backstage area that was just upstairs. The collection was less of-the-wall than Yamamoto has previously been known to produce, but centred around coats in loose, billowing shapes, often layered with double button lines and wool .
The feel was English country gentleman gone off on an adventure in the woods - with loose suiting in heavy tweeds and tartan check and heavy boots, there was a distinctly Anglo-Saxon feel, with tall fedoras and brightly coloured leather giving the silhouette an eccentric edge. The silk pajamas in rust and ox-blood made things even more mad man of the manor maybe out on a midnight sleepwalk, while long black tailcoats with white shirting, oversized cravats and grey pants were a cleaner, loosened and textured eveningwear look.
There were nods to a nautical look with reefer jackets, military style with badges on patches and flat caps and heavy tweed that referenced city workers of old. Blanket stitch n the edge of thick wool shawl collars looked both organic and cosy. White pumps put a sporty twist on things. The models were of all ages, sizes and ethnicities; there were older, bigger blokes; skinny, malnourished fashion boys; and a stunning Slavic-looking guy who we met afterwards in the street. He turned out to be a French guy called Benjamin, but he could easily have passed for the last Tsar's little cousin.
|With Benjamin, après show. Don't we look good together!?|