It has been over three decades since Andreas Kronthaler first referenced Il Tagliapanni—the handsome tailor subject of Giovanni Battista Moroni’s popular painting—in his work with Vivienne Westwood. “We made the doublet together in stone leather from a historical pattern,” Westwood’s widower said backstage today. “It was in the show in ’91 or ’92.” That memory made Kronthaler think not only about his earliest days working with Westwood, but also their shared fascination for historical dress.
Today that starting point climaxed in a collection that was subtly rooted in his personal memory—the print of frolicking figures against a botanical background was based on an “erotic wallpaper” in the couple’s kitchen—but which also played fast and loose with the wider history of clothing in typical Westwood style. The central motif of this collection was, absolutely, the codpiece. Here it was modernized into a Speedo-inflected jockstrap, then reimagined as a bag: For men and women alike, a convenient spot in which to stash your tackle.
There was a loose re-creation of that Moroni starting point in Look 6’s razor-sliced doublet and thigh-high cavalier boots. We drifted toward 18th- and 19th-century widow’s weeds via two haunting gowns made in Huddersfield-milled black silk-mohair. A mirror-beaded T-shirt reflected 15th-century armor through a 20th-century military-issue staple. Ripped workwear was overdyed to update a pattern based on 16th-century decorative brocade. The bow-front black leather slippers for men—so stately and confident in their feminine dash—made for more pragmatic footwear than the platforms.
This show’s dress-led eclectic adventures in time travel unfolded around some highly entertaining performance art by Sons of Sissy, a trio of dancers and musicians who blended pagan ritual with high camp and some excellent impressions of birdsong and weather events—the bum drumming was a particular highlight. Another notable moment was the casting of Sam Smith in two roles; the second was as a mysterious macramé-shrouded figure in black, but it was the opener—as a mini-kilted monarch of the glen complete with gnarled staff with which to correct any possible platform problems—that will doubtless be most scrutinized. Whatever was in that codpiece, Smith’s walk took balls. It was also completely in line with the confrontationally subversive credo of clothing that made Westwood such a force, and which Kronthaler has charged himself with continuing in her memory.
