There are more than a few things that make Balmain‘s latest runway collection very Smoke & Mirrors. (Did I style it while sleeping?) Firstly, the models walked to the hip-hop classic “Rapper’s Delite.” Second, the collection looked like a bomb went off in the atelier. Something my look is very inclined towards. Imagine Tina Turner was a size 0 frame in Thunderdome. Then imagine the world’s been blown to smitherines and all that’s left is Tina and Balmain by Christophe Decarnin‘s remnants. It’s looking like a dark Spring, as imagined by Decarnin, the Rodarte sisters, Pugh, and others; one that’s dimly lit, tattered, and distopic. Revolving around his signature shoulder-padded marching band silhouettes, Decarnin has for the first time flipped the light switch off – replacing his glisteningly bright colors for earth tones usually only explored by designer’s Fall looks. This though, I find to be an upside, at least for myself (not that I could ever afford a piece) since his past pieces seemed too bright for a guy who fit into women’s sizes. Like Pugh’s show yesterday, Decarnin has shredded, destroyed, sliced, and diced the shit out of his cult-followed designs. The slinky tank now looks like what makes up the majority of my t-shirt drawer – torn and worn to pieces. I’m happy the pants look shrunken, jacket’s put back together, and dresses pieced from scraps, since it means I’m set lust-free for Spring. My rag surplus has just gone up in worth! Take that, Mom.
photos courtesy of wwd