Yohji Yamamoto's Poetic Protection
October 05, 2004 - Paris
Nothing sums up the spring summer 2005 Yohji Yamamoto collection better than the show’s soundtrack, a combination of unaccompanied Bach sonatas.
Like the mournful, mordant and occasionally dramatic music, the collection was an exceptional solo effort, demanding great technical expertise and a determined pursuit of excellence.
Yamamoto’s fashion is an intriguing mixture of the poetic and the protective, an extended series of experiments with the odd reference to fashion nostalgia.
“I was inspired, maybe, by Madame Gres,” smiled the reserved and sibylline designer, as a dozen Japanese fashion writers circled him eagerly backstage noting down even the tiniest remarks. For the novice, Gres was famous for her draping of monochromatic asymmetrical robes.
Put simply, one third of the collection were men’s shirts extended into floor length dresses, but of such invention and sleight of hand to be strikingly beautiful. Yamamoto used micro-pleats, braided, twisted and wrapped around the torso to great effect, creating an image that was both Victorian and modern.
Yohji’s other smart move was a group of chiffon dresses in light red and faded lichen. Pulled a tiny bit askew and patched with rumpled clumps of fabric they exuded a great sense of grace. The designer paired all his looks with his latest natty signature sneakers produced by Adidas, which this season came with ribbed back heels and side panels, and toes with tiny white spots. You can just see the copiers printing out this image already this morning in various Third World plants, ripping off the designer who has married sports footwear and apparel better than any.
Some of Yamamoto’s other ideas did not jell so well; lace panels on satin pants and a bunch of bulbous woven attachments merely made the clever casting of models look lumpy.
But we will forgive the master the odd slip. We thought the cellist squawked one note too.