Alexander McQueen s conviction that there s romance in savagery found a perfect complement in the inspiration for his latest men s collection. William Golding s Lord of the Flies, the classic novel that spawned a forgettable Balthazar Getty movie, is a proto-Lost, weaving the tale of a group of schoolboys stranded on a desert island by a plane crash that kills the accompanying adults. Their descent from civilization to anarchy provided the framework for McQueen s spring show. Against a soundtrack of throbbing drums and a backdrop of draped parachutes, the designer opened with a group of expertly tailored "proper" clothes, all in white and just begging to be messed up.
And after the initial emphasis on formality, as in a three-piece suit in cream linen, the mood steadily darkened. Hair got scruffier, clothes became less structured, more textured. A jacket-and-shorts set decorated with buttons suggested one of London s cockney Pearly Kings—or a castaway with too much time on his hands. A waistcoat and trousers trailing punky straps were poignantly printed with an old map. Then things fell apart, literally—washed leathers barely held together at the seams, a body stocking was split down its side. The escalating eccentricity encompassed a jumpsuit with trailing fringes, one cape of huge leaves made of leather, another of black coq feathers. A weathered black frock suit was an inverted mirror of the pristine white example that opened the show. There s no disputing McQueen s sense of drama—or romance, for that matter. However, this may be one instance when they combined to overwhelm coherence.
