Spring Ready-to-Wear 2015

Thom Browne

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Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015

Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015

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  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015
  • Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015

Thom Browne RTW Spring 2015

The designer presented his new collection on a sculpture garden set complete with real grass, hedges and human statues.

To commit to Thom Browne’s level of showmanship is to need to tell a story. There was intrigue at first sight of his spring set, a manicured sculpture garden — real grass, real hedges — of human statues wearing Browne’s sartorial interpretations of flowers, a butterfly and lawn sports, identifiable by gigantic headgear. (One model representing badminton wore a hat shaped like a birdie.) At first, the incredible visual stimuli projected playful youth and innocence. Then a whiff of perversion hit the air as the models started to wilt and cramp in their poses (for real) after a prolonged delay. But there’s always something twisted to Browne’s creative madness. Whether it’s a turn-on or turnoff is the question.

Here, surrealistic whimsy won out. Browne spared the audience any guesswork regarding plotline by having the show narrated. “I’m going to tell you a story,” said a woman’s voice in the tone of a mother reading to her child at bedtime. ’Twas the tale of six sisters who prefer to dress alike. On Mondays, they start out in tailoring; by the weekend, they like to be naked. Through the garden came a procession of each sister’s stylistic leanings, as Browne blended his traditional tailoring with a psychedelic floral motif. Classic silhouettes, such as Browne’s cropped men’s suit, tweed jackets and skirts, and topcoats over full skirts, appeared in an amazing escalation of treatments. A tweed suit came in a mélange of artful tatters. A stunning coat came in a melting patchwork of psychedelic furs. Yet another coat was made from feathers arranged meticulously in floral patterns. It was a wow. One wondered what Browne’s production budget was. The techniques were fantastic, and, for the most part, realistic when delivered in shapes that could be classified as normal. That’s not a word often bandied about in regard to Browne.

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