March 8, 2025 |
Steel emptiness, flickering lights and the silent swell of moving material. Issey Miyake’s AW25 show, [N]either [N]or, was fashion in its purest, most contemporary form. Staged at the Carrousel du Louvre in the centre of Paris, the collection unfolded like a living sculpture inspired by Erwin Wurm’s One Minute Sculptures.
At first, garments were whole, structured, contained. Then, as if by second nature, they unravelled, stretched, transformed. Clothes were undressed, reworked and reworn until bodies were engulfed in plissé. This was wearable art, but more than that, it was about the ritual of dressing and undressing and the power and vulnerability that’s inherently woven into the act.
Red, blue, green and pink painted the runway. Then the question arose: is that a pocket or a hug? A sleeve or a belt? The placement of pockets forced arms into self-embracing gestures, as if the garments were cradling the wearer. Weighted white shoes grounded the pleated structures above. Sleeves became hats, collars pockets and denim jackets collapsed into bags and blank shopping bags transformed into shirts. Everything was wearable, yet unexpectedly so.
Then came a return to normality – or something like it. Tailored looks emerged, crisp white vests layered over blue poplin shirts. Monochrome moments held their ground. White never truly disappeared; was never fully consumed by colour.
And at the end, a shift. Voluminous black forms stumbled onto the runway – life-sized pillow-puffers with tassels trailing behind. Peplum was reimagined, stripped of gender. Abstract trousers twisted into four-legged silhouettes, because who, or what, does Miyake dress? Folded pockets were turned inside out and became angular trousers. The final looks featured knitted faces (hats), concealed in cascading fabric (dresses). It as a reminder that a garment is only as powerful as the way it is worn.
Photography Courtesy of Issey Miyake.
