A season's motif: The black rose
By Suzy Menkes International Herald Tribune
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
http://www.iht.com/articles/2005/03/14/style/froses.html
PARIS Every fashion moment has its symbol: the shiny vinyl boots of the 1960s, the droopy Flower Child hat of the '70s, the gaudy jeweled buttons of the 1980s. If a bygone decade summons up a vision, the Roaring Twenties are cropped heads and the 1930s the cigarette holder gripped between two lacquered fingernails.
These tiny flourishes could be abstracted entirely from any other reference to the clothes of their era and we would still know what they stood for, and it was often something quite significant. Whereas the Belle Epoque bird's nest of a hat symbolized the frivolity and fragility of Edwardian women, their daughters' short hair in the 1920s was the first signal of feminist rebellion.
So what are we to make of the black rose? There was no significant collection in the new season that did not use a rose as a symbol, almost always dark and mysterious and not necessarily as a casual accessory. At Rochas, roses were whorled out of fabrics that draped across the body to finish in a flower, or chiffon unfurled from roses circling the neck.
Often the floral force was in the contrast between the malleable softness of nature's petals and the material chosen by the designer. So the leather rose, with a gleaming, gloomy stiffness, appeared at Bottega Veneta as a cluster of flowers hanging on a hard chain at the waist or climbing wild and rampant over the signature lattice bag. Dark flowers were embossed on jackets at Dior or the rose symbol was stamped on a bag. That was in contrast to the pretty pink flowers appliquéd on to coats and accessories in the spring Dior collection.
Where did the dark rose start? Designers have all dug up this somber flower at once, and that is the essence of fashion: it seeds by itself. The black leather rose on flat pumps or sturdy high-heeled shoes in the new Roger Vivier collection was inspired, said Bruno Frisoni, by seeing an art work incorporating a rubber rose. "I wanted a certain romanticism, but not too much," Frisoni said, expressing the general feeling for moody or edgy romance that was the driving force of the season.
Different species of flowers, each dyed black, were pinned to the lapels of jackets at Dries Van Noten, appearing as a dark single lily or a spray of what looked like burned blooms. Roses in black or dark wine-dreg colors were also pinned to the hair - a favorite nesting place. From a Sonia Rykiel hat crowned with a black rose through the veiled headdresses in the "Broken Bride" collection from Comme des Garçons, designers would add a darkly beautiful flower.
It did not necessarily appear on a feminine outfit. The rose was used as an accessory as much on tailoring as on graceful dresses. Yet it also appeared in wool lace on the most womanly aspect of clothing: lingerie. Comme des Garçons introduced a new designer, Tao Kurihar, who produced her own label, inspired, for this season only, on lingerie. The results were charming knitted pieces. Naturally, a curvy top and shorts incorporated a rose.
At the heart of the black rose is the yearning for romance, but not in the innocent prettiness seen in other eras. Perhaps it is significant that the spring season was smothered in prints of flowers and fruit, such as handbags sprinkled with pink blossom and ripe red cherries at Louis Vuitton.
This girlishness now in full flower seems destined to wither and die, as the romantic sobriety of the new winter season emerges. If past eras have had fashion motifs, they have also had fashionable flowers, from Proust's lilies, through Oscar Wilde's green carnation, to the Japanese one-single-flower craze in the 1920s (and 1990s). Hippie-era flowers were meadow sweet, and the beginning of the new millennium also favored a spring-and-summer prettiness. But now that fashion is starting to draw the veil, it is time for the black rose to come into bloom.
By Suzy Menkes International Herald Tribune
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
http://www.iht.com/articles/2005/03/14/style/froses.html
PARIS Every fashion moment has its symbol: the shiny vinyl boots of the 1960s, the droopy Flower Child hat of the '70s, the gaudy jeweled buttons of the 1980s. If a bygone decade summons up a vision, the Roaring Twenties are cropped heads and the 1930s the cigarette holder gripped between two lacquered fingernails.
These tiny flourishes could be abstracted entirely from any other reference to the clothes of their era and we would still know what they stood for, and it was often something quite significant. Whereas the Belle Epoque bird's nest of a hat symbolized the frivolity and fragility of Edwardian women, their daughters' short hair in the 1920s was the first signal of feminist rebellion.
So what are we to make of the black rose? There was no significant collection in the new season that did not use a rose as a symbol, almost always dark and mysterious and not necessarily as a casual accessory. At Rochas, roses were whorled out of fabrics that draped across the body to finish in a flower, or chiffon unfurled from roses circling the neck.
Often the floral force was in the contrast between the malleable softness of nature's petals and the material chosen by the designer. So the leather rose, with a gleaming, gloomy stiffness, appeared at Bottega Veneta as a cluster of flowers hanging on a hard chain at the waist or climbing wild and rampant over the signature lattice bag. Dark flowers were embossed on jackets at Dior or the rose symbol was stamped on a bag. That was in contrast to the pretty pink flowers appliquéd on to coats and accessories in the spring Dior collection.
Where did the dark rose start? Designers have all dug up this somber flower at once, and that is the essence of fashion: it seeds by itself. The black leather rose on flat pumps or sturdy high-heeled shoes in the new Roger Vivier collection was inspired, said Bruno Frisoni, by seeing an art work incorporating a rubber rose. "I wanted a certain romanticism, but not too much," Frisoni said, expressing the general feeling for moody or edgy romance that was the driving force of the season.
Different species of flowers, each dyed black, were pinned to the lapels of jackets at Dries Van Noten, appearing as a dark single lily or a spray of what looked like burned blooms. Roses in black or dark wine-dreg colors were also pinned to the hair - a favorite nesting place. From a Sonia Rykiel hat crowned with a black rose through the veiled headdresses in the "Broken Bride" collection from Comme des Garçons, designers would add a darkly beautiful flower.
It did not necessarily appear on a feminine outfit. The rose was used as an accessory as much on tailoring as on graceful dresses. Yet it also appeared in wool lace on the most womanly aspect of clothing: lingerie. Comme des Garçons introduced a new designer, Tao Kurihar, who produced her own label, inspired, for this season only, on lingerie. The results were charming knitted pieces. Naturally, a curvy top and shorts incorporated a rose.
At the heart of the black rose is the yearning for romance, but not in the innocent prettiness seen in other eras. Perhaps it is significant that the spring season was smothered in prints of flowers and fruit, such as handbags sprinkled with pink blossom and ripe red cherries at Louis Vuitton.
This girlishness now in full flower seems destined to wither and die, as the romantic sobriety of the new winter season emerges. If past eras have had fashion motifs, they have also had fashionable flowers, from Proust's lilies, through Oscar Wilde's green carnation, to the Japanese one-single-flower craze in the 1920s (and 1990s). Hippie-era flowers were meadow sweet, and the beginning of the new millennium also favored a spring-and-summer prettiness. But now that fashion is starting to draw the veil, it is time for the black rose to come into bloom.
