Rick Owens translated his anger in his fall win ter 2018 collection. He experienced some frustrations lately, he told WWD. He had run up against technical limitations related to his exhibition in Milan, and to some special effects planned for his fall 2018 men’s show, leaving him two options: either push hard to get things done right or tame one’s ideas in the land of red tape. It’s a conundrum that extends to the wider socio-ecological-political climate, he argued.
He unleashed his wrath working within his own framework, mixing grand sartorial gestures with a military-athletic vibe. A lot of the clothes looked as if they had been mutilated, with aggressive cutouts on elongated tunics that allowed for peek-a-boo moments on the body, and asymmetric skirts that looked like they’d been crafted from slashed up shorts.
Conversely, a run of capes had their armholes sewn shut, the arms liberated only through slits at the front. They added some chic drama.
The collection had a great sculptural quality to it, applied to everything he touched including the boots and sneakers with platform molded soles, which added to the brutality of the ensemble. Owens also He reworked shapes from past seasons.
For his fall 2017 collection Rick Owens sent out modern-day nomads, dragging their blankets and belongings around on their backs. Models, their stringy hair pasted to their heads and in disarray, wore nylon puffer pieces. They came in the form of mile-long scarves that dragged across the floor or coats, shawls and ballooning shrugs that resembled reworked sleeping bags.
All the proportions were exaggerated. Coveralls and trousers were as wide as elephant legs, their bottoms pooling over chunky sneakers and shoes with layered soles. Jackets were like voluminous leather sculptures, bulging with zipper pockets and pouches, while coats were made from ragged-edged patches.
Rick Owens goes soft next spring. He carried over his big pants from last fall, also continuing with bloblike drapes and whorled volumes. Indeed, his opening looks in gauzy gray fabrics approximated the gargantuan folds of blubber of this season’s mascot — a walrus.
Yet there was something regal about the cone-shaped silhouettes and the elaborate, sashlike folds worked into T-shirts and tops.
As the show progressed, Owens capped his pyramid-shaped pants with tiny, taut bomber jackets and leather blousons that stopped at the ribcage.
Owens also added shiny embroideries with radiant lines, like depictions of the Sacred Heart, to loose black robes and sculpted tuxedo jackets. It’s a descriptor coming up more frequently as the Paris season picks up steam. Owens’ priestly take on black-tie was certainly divine.
When going to a Rick Owens show you can expect two things: disruptive runway spectacles, but in a way that will stick to your mind, tickles your subconscious. And perhaps your sense of responsibility. At least, we hope it will this time. It was less shocking than his last shows, but it definitely got a big message to tell you. Because it wasn’t only Leonardo Dicrapio who expressed his big concerns about the worldly environment. Rick Owens is so too. His autumn 2016 show was called Mastodon, in which he translated his feelings of uneasiness and discomfort about the environmental change, the way we treat our planet and especially that we don’t seem to care.
Although the message seems pretty clear, for the models the way through it wasn’t clear at all. Fourteen different women walked down the runway with their vision completely blurred by a cloud of hair that ballooned around their heads. Like magnificent hair balls from your cat (ugh!). Although the message of this collection might be hard, the execution was pretty soft. Soft leathers, lots of draping, twisting and folding, soft lines and silhouettes, fuzzed-out knit mohair, bubble-shaped jackets, crushed velvet capes and sleeveless tunics. Colors ranged from creamy white to splashes of pistachio green, pink, vermilion, orange, eggplant, brown and black. Even the shoes seem to be pretty comfortable: thigh-high leather sneakers. We really appreciate and support his concerns, but even more so his clothes and sense of timelessness and style.
It’s probably the most talked about show this fashion week episode. Because what happened at the Rick Owens show? Did we just really see women on women? How? And why? It’s definitely not the first time Owens presented us the unexpected, remembering the African-American dancers or the penis exposure. On Twitter and Facebook it was exploding (#rickowens). Cosmopolitan magazine headlined ‘Models 69 on the runway at Rick Owens’ and The Guardian called it ‘human backpacks and full-frontal nudity.’ What could this possibly mean in this crazy fashion world?
Women upside down, doubling up on limbs, their bodies harnessed to other women. It looked pretty weird and intense. No wonder Owens chose gymnasts and dancers to be his models. Soon enough we came to understand it was all about women nourishing and supporting each other. There was the idea of birth, of women creating new life. Translating this into a sartorial way, Owens is referencing what Leigh Bowery did decades ago, in 1994. It may be old hat, though still enough to get people completely surprised. But through all the theatre, we saw some actual fashion we really liked. The asymmetric lines and draperies against the sharp, cut-away coats. Loose or body-con sportswear against soft fabrics like silk and organza. And his signature black and white color palette was expanded with quite some beige, hints of bright orange and silver and grey tones. The American-born, Paris-based designer may be known for his radical collections and unexpected show elements, but his sense of fashion is still with a capital F.
Surprisingly light was the show Rick Owens presented us with this week. It was (almost) out with the black and in with the ‘colors’. And even though it was just khaki, sand tones and shades of grey, in Owens’ world those are true colors. He used them on his remarkable amount of dresses (structured, strapless, sheer, asymmetrical and printed). Dresses made out of a mix of materials, both heavy and airy that almost appeared elegant. But even though Owens is showing us this new side of hem, there were still enough signature details (white painted faces, heavy cloglike footwear) to make it a signature and tough Owens collection.
Owens chose a heavy theme for his fall/winter show. Battle-scarred heroism was the inspiration for his signature big coat, boots and T-shirt and a full range of black and white creations. His pale models with the frizziest hardo’s could be seen sporting kimonos, asymmetric tunics and coats with larger than life stitches (which were in fact created by traditional basket-weaving techniques). Large gloves, high standing collars and a few fur details accessorized the looks. Like so many designers Rick Owens opted for a Japanese influenced collection. Yet he managed to use this popular theme in a very unique way, inspired by his notion of heroic grace under pressure.
All the right ingredients for the perfect Rick Owens cake were in the mix today. His signature black and white color palette, his sleeveless tops, the use of leather, the belted jackets and the long tops. But we were surprised too. By the models big hair to begin with, not to mention their snow proof Ugg like boots. Those tank tops will need a few extra layers, yet the big collars, the hoodies and the oversized gloves will keep the toned Rick Owens man warm all throughout next winter.
Rick Owens was in an angelic mood looking at the collection and the clouds that came tumbling down from the catwalk entrance.
The models came in dresses of puffed-out proportions to match those of the clouds behind them – strapless and semi-transparent inflated dresses in soft grey or apricot shades. There were capes that followed in the same vein and further dresses that splayed out from off the shoulder. It was more feminine and light and pretty than we have seen from Rick Owens before.
The message of Rick Owens was lightness: unstructured jackets in sheer organza, worn with shorts with panels at the front and back, or fitted pants. Then monastic dresses entered the picture, like a sweeping caftan in blurry hand-painted gray checks, accessorized with bold chain bracelets.
More wearable – read: urban – were the bombers and hooded parkas in summer-light organza, or cotton anoraks in graphic kite prints.