Paris Fashion Week SS18: Andreas Kronthaler for Vivienne Westwood
The inspiration: "I play with colours. Lust, desire, sex and even sadness are best expressed through colours," said Andreas Kronthaler, the man propelling the Vivienne Westwood name since last fall. What he left out of the show notes, however, is that his sophomore effort would continue to test the limits of liberation — a point made by his ganja motifs and phallic drawings.
The collection: The term "sex sells" applies to many houses — it's just hardly interpreted the way the brilliant minds at Vivienne Westwood's would. We can wax poetic about the folk fabrics sourced from Lake of Attersee, describe the long and short of the curtain and ruffled tent contraptions, or we can just go straight into discussing Kronthaler's wanton girls and boys. Easy decision, since rarely is erotica so flagrantly manifested in fashion. Let's see: The models stepped out in nude panties doodled with hearts; were clothed in prints of bare breasts; swathed with French artist François Boucher's imagery of nymphs and shepherds; and lambasted with penis-shaped railings atop an otherwise innocuous abstract garden. Westwood herself painted the latter in England days before the show. Mind = blown. And you can bet those graphics (surely the double entendre is intentional) were on repeat — seen on boxer shorts, tights and flap pocket blousons on men; as well as second-skin jumpsuits, large shoppers and maxi dresses cinched at the waist with champion ship belts on women. Naturally, more sensuality ensued à la florals — most of them in a colour palette of blue, red and green. Speaking of greenery, Kronthaler's planting of the weed (spot them full frontal on belts and cleverly hidden in the Rococo art) came full circle with the live music from the tumba drums, foggy atmosphere and highbrow references by way of "Velvet" Brueghel's animals at peace in paradise contrasted with the fall of man. Are we to infer that the designer's spring/summer 2018 collection came to him while he was smoking up? Are stoners secret intellects? You decide.
Buro loves: The plush white quilts embracing the dozen barefoot models, and the caps they wore bearing Andreas Kronthaler's first name name slapped across with red upward pointing arrows.
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