Marie Adam-Leenaerdt was a finalist for the 2024 LVMH Prize. Participating in this year’s competition brought a whole new audience to her show today. Though she didn’t win the award, she raised her own personal bar significantly here. Any show that starts with lunch is a good one, but Adam-Leenaerdt’s was especially so with her clever thoughts about clothes’ usefulness and functionality.
We were gathered at Terminus Nord, a brasserie opposite the Gare du Nord popular with Belgians heading to and from Antwerp. There were oeufs mayonnaise, pâté en croute, and coffees on offer, and in the moments before the show began, the US critics at my table discussed the many rumored designer moves and all the houses hypothetically in play; it got very chatty. At more traditional shows, publications are typically separated from each other; the mixing at this one created a feeling of conviviality that producers could learn from. (This one was put together by Etienne Russo, a Belgian, like Adam-Leenaerdt.)
The location was good for more than just gossiping. It fit with the message of the collection, which was sparked by the humble, everyday T-shirt—the uniform of the street. Backstage the designer, who is not yet 30, acknowledged the tee’s quotidian nature. “If everyone wears a T-shirt, that makes the wardrobe very flat,” she said. Her idea was to use comfy (her word) cotton jersey for more exceptional garments, like a drop-waist dress and a hooded trench. Either that or she was applying the T-shirt’s easy-on, easy-off nature to sweaters and dresses. What seemed to be belted rib knits with button-downs underneath were all one piece, while V-neck dresses only appeared to be layered over undershirts and lacy lingerie pieces—they were single garments too.
These are not all-new ideas—the deconstructionists before Demna, with whom Adam-Leenaerdt worked at Balenciaga, were playing with similar notions a generation or two ago—but Adam-Leenaerdt’s clothes look cool and fresh, and that makes her proposals viable. Most novel were the blazers and coats for which she designed multiple interchangeable covers, “so you don’t dress the body, you just dress the garment,” she explained. The impact of an hourglass-cut lapel-less blazer was completely different in caution yellow nylon spandex than it was in a charcoal gray velvet jersey. Ditto a long strapless dress that she showed with both a matte nude cover, which yielded understated results, and a glossy tech-fabric version that looked more glam. It’s too soon to say if retailers will bite, but there’s a lot of utility built into this concept; it’s experimentation like this that keeps pushing fashion forward.
