The window dressing of the Ter et Bantine show was intriguing. A handful of exceptionally lo-fi versions of "Anarchy in the U.K." provided the soundtrack. Here was a ukulele; there was a gypsy violin. Maybe this was intended to suggest that the impulse to overturn orthodoxy isn t only confined to spotty London oiks with electric guitars, while also serving as an intro to T&B s no-frills but graceful integration of masculine and feminine dress codes. So a boy-styled three-button houndstooth suit shared catwalk space with a strapless, peplumed outfit, also in houndstooth, that could have stepped, with a little poetic license, out of an Irving Penn couture shoot in the 1950 s. And then something like the turtleneck and cropped pants was so bare-bones Beat that you could question its place on a catwalk at the same time as you could see it walking down the street. Which will probably always be a fundamental issue with Ter et Bantine. These aren t clothes for show. They re much too subtle. But they may well win hearts and minds where it really counts.
