September 18, 2017 |
Few women (or men, for that matter) could convince us to raise ourselves from a state best described as “recently deceased” and haul ourselves to central London of a Sunday morning, but luckily, Mary Katrantzou happens to be one of them. I’m going to diplomatically say she’s out second favourite Greek power lady, I would say first, but Sophia might fire me. Either way, we love Mary.
Today, it was about looking backward. All the way back. To childhood. Wasn’t that a wonderful time? On the notes Mary quoted that thing that Picasso once said that goes something along the lines of: “every child is an artist,” Mary describing the “unbridled creativity” of children as the starting point of the collection. There was colour – brilliant paint-by-number prints, which did exactly what they said on the tin – some with dashes of Crayola, or Lego, yellow, red and cerise, with the monochrome numbers revealed beneath, others where the gaps were filled with shiny sequins.
There was a roundness to the silhouette – dresses and skirts falling awash to a voluminous bubble hemline, gathered at the waist with toggle fastening – Mary referencing balloons and the great outdoors. And childlike too was this collage of fabrics – lightweight technical fabric met delicate hama bead embroidery, dresses morphed into panels of scuba from the chest up. It ended with a series of mighty fabulous showstopper gowns, and probably just about as close to haute couture as this city’s ever going to get. Such gowns would make a good alternative to real children. Because children are really quite annoying, and a pretty dress isn’t.
Photographs by Jason Lloyd Evans
