Sophia was sort of squealing throughout this one which I think meant she liked it. Of course she did. I think she might actually file to papers to adopt him. No wonder – Charles Jeffrey is properly, properly brilliant. His show is a total highlight of the schedule (hence the bunfight outside) because Charles brings a sense of performance – season after season, this euphoric, over-the-top spectacle that’s been missing from fashion for ages. This time, there were hundreds (maybe an exaggeration – but lots) of scribbled-covered dancers holding giant pink boxes in different shapes – devils, flowers, dragons with streamers coming out their mouths. And from these, the collection emerged – starting, as all good things should, with a boy in a frilly knicker and his arse out, it dragged us through, in a way that Charles is so good at, time, place and colour.
As Charles said – time is vertical, the past is a country where everyone is welcome -describing the collection as an orgy, a Hogarth painting, an erratic scribble. A celebration of queer hedonism. Phew. There were Tudor bodices, incredible painted fabrics, newspaper board printed t-shirts. LOVERBOY sunglasses. Twins in matching outfits and coloured Matrix sunglasses. And so much more. It all just sort of rushed past us in euphoric whizz of pleasure. The closer? Queen Elizabeth I (or Charles’ approximate), loads of confetti and the Happy Mondays. Totally brilliant. As Sophia said – clothes to take us to our happy places. To make the heart fly. Well done Charles!
Photographs by Jason Lloyd-Evans
