An army of all-female step-dance crews transformed the catwalk show into a loud, aggressive yet gripping performance. Leather stretched against muscular thigh, and Owens’ signature draping undulated under the rhythmic stamping.
A vast, stark hangar with polished concrete floor and a steel staircase from which the dancers descended, and Owens too for his bow.
With a space as wide as this, a standard pacing line of models was not to be expected. Yet the front row recalled in surprise (or was it horror?) when the step-dancers made their presence known. Vine and Instagram were instantly flooded, and Twitter debated into the night about what it all meant.
Stand out looks:
Because this was about the clothes. A jersey draped dress, in black, with a sweeping sash of leather, and a string of black pom poms at the hem that wobbled violently to the beat. Almost comically girly in this context.
Jersey and leather stretched over the broad shoulders, torsos and thighs of the athletic dancers. Was this a feminist sizest statement? No. This was Owens in a cult context; a uniform for all bodies.
The straitjacket contrast trim detailing on tunics, and the nun’s habit-like headdresses. Add to that the stern and aggressive expressions the ‘models’ pulled at their photo call.
Jazz-shoe soled trainers – made for stamping – in black, charcoal and white. Leather cuffs around the ankle emulated leather accents in the look.
A series of the purest white pieces closed the collection, with the most beautiful design statements of all: finely laser cut dots and dashes, architectural capes and almost cyber funneled, stand-up collars.
Left us wanting:
To clear our savings, buy a Rick Owens leather jacket, and go stompin’.