September 11, 2009
When Robert Geller claimed inspiration from German men in the fifties vacationing at the side of the North Sea, it wasn't a literal image of stolid burghers in bad bathing suits he had in mind. Instead, he was thinking about what it might feel like to allow oneself to relax, to hope for something better after years of war and hardship. The "redemptive power of Spring" that Geller talked about was embodied in the backdrop of greenery, flowers, and fruit artfully put together by florist Zinna Christopher. The same notion carried through into clothes that were fresher and lighter than Geller's usual goth-tinged pieces. The primary color palette was sky and sea—blues, greens, lilacs—but he pushed it now and again, so that a parka showed in an electric cobalt blue with a tonic sheen.
Layering is a Geller signature. Here, a leather waistcoat was laid over tiers of delicate cotton, and baggy shorts topped leggings (the grunge mosh-pit proportion that echoes Rick Owens). They reminded me of britches—more mid-nineteenth century than anything to do with our time (let alone German holidaymakers from the fifties). The same period feel was evoked by a striped top, with buttons covered in the same stripe. But that is, after all, the bizarre, elusive essence of a Robert Geller show. In the real world, his skins and washed-cotton jackets and drainpipe jeans have a direct punky/new-wave edge that keeps his fans faithful. On the catwalk, he dresses up those same clothes in such a way (with, for instance, the buckled suede boots and the fragments of tattered tulle that accessorized his 26 Spring looks) that they take on a poetic quality.
— Tim Blanks