Paris, where are you? And what is this scent all around?
It is true? It has to be like this, I can feel it, feel it, touch it.
As with clothes, I touch them and am touched. The clothes: the floating cotton skirts, the stripes, the overcoats, the checks, the tank tops, the flowers.
They have always been there, yet we found them again. And we love them again, obsessively. We touched the lines and through touch they revealed their three-dimensionality.
Woven into jacquards or inlaid into leather, checks become an unused map in the pockets of a trench coat, because the purpose is research. After all, we are flaneurs and sooner or later we will be found – but not now, not yet.
Long-hemmed trousers cross the halls as if they were gardens. Then the gardens, as if they were streets. The way we dress, the things we like, are with us, on our skin, close to our body – undressed.
Fragments assembled with discipline. Flowers collected like illusory memories, superimposed in a tactile ecstasy. The transparencies are not intentional, the opacities are.
Small shirts, small tunics. A repertoire of familiar textures, of (re)trouvé objects. A search for joy through dedication. A flowery meadow beyond the windows to get lost in.
Paris, the baroque city: here you are.
Creative Director: Francesco Risso
Art Director: Babak Radboy
Musical Director: Dev Hynes
Styling: Carlos Nazario
Casting Director: Midland Agency
Hair Stylist: Paul Hanlon
Makeup Artist: Yadim
Production: Kennedy London