all black everything
During a trip to Paris for fashion week in February, I wore all black ensembles: severe suits by Thierry Mugler, pressed pants by Miu Miu, and a forties fur coat from Poshmark that I was told was made of bear. Most importantly, I covered my head in a Wolford scarf that doubled as a vest-like body wrap. It kept me warm, or at least warmer than I would have been, and it kept my obnoxiously bright blonde hair hidden. In that shawl, I felt as if I were cocooned in a trend-neutral zone—if wearing a normcore version of Diane Pernet’s funeral-inspired shade would prevent me from becoming a fashion victim, regardless of the fact that hoods were all over the runways last season.
It wasn’t that I had given up on fashion. In fact, it felt like I had finally found my look. By avoiding color—aside from a pair of red Prada pumps that perished on a Parisian cobblestone—I could accessorize with slutty stiletto boots and small Christian Lacroix sunglasses. And though it takes some level of delusion to assume that a cancel-worthy coat exudes elegance, I was at the very least absolved from the embarrassment that PR teams want you to feel for failing to secure current-season clothes that lose their luster as soon as they show up on our feeds.
Of course, I wasn’t the only one thinking that way. In what appeared to be a response to the current state of the economy, or the oversaturation of our grids with outrageous, attention-grabbing looks, black fabrics and modern interpretations of “classic” tailoring (think eighties does fifties) dominated the FW23 collections. At Saint Laurent, bold shouldered jackets in basic colorways harkened back to the age of power dressing (even the chandeliers hovering over the runway were an ode to the house’s catwalk in the eighties). While Olivier Rousteing’s relatively small FW23 Balmain show was dominated by black sculptural pieces replete with 60s-inspired hats that referenced the founder’s heyday.
Even young brands appeared to be hunting for muted forms of authenticity. At GMBH, kinky clothes were substituted with giant bows and double breasted jackets, while Ludovic Saint Sernin’s highly anticipated Anne Demulemeester debut was dominated by ultra-minimal jewel-toned skirts and front row influencers dressed in the same disappointing two-piece looks that swished down the runway. It was as if the entire fashion industry was in mourning over memetic trends, or simply too exhausted to come up something something new. Or perhaps it had something to do with Demna declaring a return to coats and careful tailoring post-Balenciaga drama.
The Georgian designer wasn’t the first to revert to old codes following a shift in the fashion discourse. When Yves Saint Laurent’s influence began to wane during the early eighties, the designer declared the end of fashion, showing his disdain for what he believed was a new era dominated by repetition and forced eccentricity. Instead of competing with new innovations on the catwalk, he began reinterpreting popular silouettes from the past. This may have worked for Parisian designer, who at the time was the reigning king of the runway, not unlike Demna is today. But when it comes to the masses, all-black collections and the revival of old house codes don’t always make for interesting shows, and classic looks can only offer solace for so long.
I told friends that this season’s innocuous yet all-encompassing black palette appeared to be a way for designers to press pause on the current tumult in an era where inspiration appears to be lacking. But by the time I had arrived home from Paris I was fed up with my desaturated wardrobe. If we’re living in a boring time inundated with boring, algorithmically-generated clothes, switching up our style on a regular basis might be our only hope for a fun, fashionable future. At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I search for short shorts and satin pumps to wear with matching sheer tights in shades of pink and blue. Making sense of style isn’t easy, after all.