The world of Blade Runner is not quite upon us yet, but to tide us over we ve got Tokyo s tribalism. All those kids strolling around Harajuku dressed as creatures from their fantasies—it s a perfect fashion paradigm. Limi Feu designer Limi Yamamoto has brought a refined version of Tokyo s reinventive impulse to Paris before, but never more so than with today s show. Inspired by the Irish performer Imelda May, Yamamoto filtered a quiff-cum-ponytailed, red-lipped, tattooed rockabilly babe through her own avant-garde fashion heritage. The result was something a lot more rockin than you d usually find in the often cerebral-to-a-fault Japanese design sorority.
For a start, Limi Feu s invitations featured star-shaped pasties. Once more with feeling—star-shaped pasties! Whatever they promised never quite materialized on the catwalk, but there was a flashiness that felt new for Limi. The striped tailcoat over a stretch dress over capris, the white dotted net dress layered over a froth of black tulle, the dévoré beaded top over black pants: Any of them would look mighty fine on rockabilly royalty. And Yamamoto went a step further with a black-and-white group that suggested nothing less than the cocktail party her rockabilly princess parents might throw while their girl was out on the tiles. A dress was elegantly dissected down its front, a skirt slit up its back with equal grace. Meanwhile, the designer herself was wearing a T-shirt that declared her allegiance to the Misfits Fiend Club. Her boss wasn t happy, said Yamamoto, because it wasn t one of her own shirts. Rebel to the end, you might assume, except she also paraded a banner inviting the world s "genius doctors" to help guarantee Japan s kids a future. In the light of the disaster that still threatens her country, that seems like the least a responsible citizen should do.
