With the explosive crash of waves on rocks, the Missoni show today launched into a meditation on the elements—earth, air, fire, and water. Angela Missoni, head wrapped in a scarf, appropriately looked a bit like a voodoo queen backstage. But she was quick to point out that Missoni s elements were abstract rather than primal. More pop, like a Japanese comic. So the classic Missoni chevron was reinterpreted as waves or birds, the way you drew waves or birds when you were a kid. The family name was also reconfigured in a black-and-white, semi-African pattern that, laser-cut out of PVC and applied all over the place, was almost as artful an exercise in logomania as Alexander Wang s AW lace in New York.
A subliminal strand of exotica trailed through the collection: a skirt tied like a sarong, a fitted dress draped like a sari, caftanlike volumes. There were hot-colored, loom-knit stripes that felt Mexican. But somewhere between the elongated pencil skirts with the deep kick pleat and the dégradé fringed pieces, Missoni edged into a land of confusion. Angela effectively evolved the family business once before, taking those primal genetic strands and literally reweaving them for now. Maybe it s time for her to do it again.
