A stroke, a circle, a square. I trace my line. Essential, minimalist. Shoulders spread into curves and skirts slowly widen. Under deep openings, the body reaveals itself. The allure is grand, determined. Power and seduction at their pinnacle, keeping a hold on elegance and subtlety. Nothing is presemptuous nor given. Everything is yet to be unveiled.
The story is quite simple : a Parisian adopting a culture, ancestral, may be tribal … On a caped-dress in black crepe with pagoda-like shoulders, golden branches get tangled in, one of the many interpretations of the work of the American duo, Kurt Freiler and Jerry Fels.
Another black stroke. A totem dress. Straight. A cubic train. A gown embroidered with an aged golden column where faces are moulded into silicon. A dedication to the Austrian sculptor, Franz Hagenauer.
Two profiles cut in white crepe are facing each other above an Art Deco waterfall in black fox. Coats, jumpsuits and trapeze tunics are generously wide and round. Minimalism is their strength, annoblishments bring them lavishness. Embroideries are floating around each gown, giving a rythmn to each step. Calder is always around the corner …
An infinite silhouette in white crepe mousse breaks the purity with a monumental sculptural flight of black gazar. A single color, African lands’ ochre, disturbs the steadiness of my eternel black and white through a wide corolla dress with boundless sleeves.
Read the collection like music paper. Lyrical, searching for what’s fundemental, all the way to its roots. Just as the past decade, I still play with contrasts and movements in order to challenge the space, always surprise and create an emotion.