jeremy scott fall/winter 17: jesus, elvis, and the sunset strip
In one of his most energizing shows, Scott nodded to the golden age of hustlers and groupies — their style, and subversive politics.
The last time Jeremy Scott showed a collection (Moschino menswear and women's pre-collection), it was the week of Donald Trump's inauguration. Though the acid-tipped slip dresses and sequined Vegas jumpsuits he presented under his eponymous line last night in New York City bore little resemblance to the military-inspired Moschino offering, it was clear that our entertainer-in-chief is still on the top of Scott's mind. His front-of-house team wore t-shirts printed with numbers of Congressional representatives, and when Scott came out to take his finale walk, he stormed the runway with a laser focus — no waves, no smiles. He was still sporting technicolor bondage pants, of course.
The designer treaded on familiar turf for fall/winter 17: namely, the 1960s and 70s. The eras' straightforward silhouettes and shapes are the perfect canvases for Scott's explosions of embellishment or cartoon graphic treatments. Last night, we saw crushed velvet flared trousers, striped shift dresses, motorcycle jackets, cocoon-like feather coats, suede patchwork pants. Scott represented the dramatic evolution of 60s style — the most transformative, turbulent decade in American history — from Mod to Marin county hippies.
By revisiting these eras and their tribes on the runway, Scott invoked their politics, too. Some looks recalled rough rock 'n' roll Sunset Strip hustlers, others Baron Wolman's studio portraits of the original groupies -- women who used clothing to literally fashion a new kind of self-expression and liberation. Though we've been handed down an image of half-baked flower power Halloween costume hippies, the counterculture crystallized because Californians were really fucking angry. Scott, the Golden State's adopted son, seems to feel this lineage — of creativity, hedonism, and activism. His parkas and sweaters were dotted with butterfly patches; their wings were made out of pistols.
An all-star parade sported images of icons. Gigi Hadid opened the show in leopard print Jesus trousers, Dilone arrived in a bedazzled Michael Jackson tee, Anna Cleveland donned a Vegas-era Elvis cape, while Stella Maxwell got a double whammy: a jacket printed with Fred Flintstone dressed as the King of Rock 'n' Roll. Longchamp totes left on front row seats bore the same message as Maxwell's sequin-covered closing look: "As Seen on TV." In the time of Trump, it felt like a warning against idol worship — but a full-on fun one.
Text Emily Manning