Here’s the thing about Walter Van Beirendonck: After all this time, his shows are still fun. It’s not just that the designer’s outlandish creativity remains endearingly unrestrained, but Van Beirendonck offers collections that feel urgent on the runway. One must look closely and intently as he always has something to say, something worthy of one’s undivided attention. But they’re also playful, and that—who would have thought?—makes the difference.
“I want to be the starry-eyed boy I always was,” read the opening line of today’s show notes. “Believe in the best of humans,” continued the designer’s letter, “but it’s becoming harder and harder.” (One can’t argue with that one.) “So, what to do when everything turns dark?” Van Beirendonck posed.
It’s a good thing this wasn’t a rhetorical question. The designer’s answer was to “look back, look below, look forward.” As the notes explained, he went on a “time-warping, postmodern pilgrimage,” which transformed this collection into a fantastic bricolage of disparate elements: Family photos from Van Beirendonck’s childhood were rendered as glitchy digital prints, bowler hats by Stephen Jones protruded with what looked like freshly plucked flowers, and bright camo prints sat next to equally ebullient painterly florals and summertime stripes. Van Beirendonck also cited “the dazzling mind” of the late Anna Piaggi (“a true master of clash”), the skeleton suits worn by “well-off 18th century boys” (peculiar concoctions that consisted of a jacket that buttoned onto a pair of often high-waisted trousers), and “artists’ workwear and historical dress.” All in all, in his words, “a collision, sure, but chic.”
In most cases, the whole was indeed greater than the sum of its parts. Those skeleton suits were actually just cool, playful riffs on suits. Turns out that faux fur-trimmed camo coats are a great idea, and that smocked and puckered pastel camis look great on guys, both as roomy dresses or as tops paired with shorts. Greatest of all were the last few looks, which featured a range of puzzle-like jackets, each more confusing and fascinating than the last. If at times the amalgamation of elements became overwhelming, it was intentional and fulfilled its disruptive purpose. It was as if Van Beirendonck was asking us to look up: from our phones and lives and personal, self-involved distractions. To look below and under the surface. To look forward with starry eyes and a wink, just as the pins on his clothes suggested.
