“It’s almost like this feeling in sci-fi movies – ridiculously sci-fi movies – where you see people walking around in the background, wearing things where you’re like, ‘Whaaaaaat! How is this even possible?!’ ” With that, Scott tied the ribbon on his Fall women’s and men’s collection, shown together: It was zany, brainy, brilliant in spots and thought-provoking in others.
In concrete terms, think: ’80s Italian discos, arcade claw–grab games, The Fifth Element, Juicy-esque tracksuits, neon accessories like the kind you crack open on the Fourth of July, and a hell of a lot of fluorescent fluff (including on the Longchamp bags that Scott lines his front row with each season).
Scott celebrated his 20th anniversary six months ago; Fall didn’t depart from his m.o., but it did introduce a few new bits to his singular planet, like, for example, “thigh-high skyscraper Moon Boots” (a new collaboration, with shorter versions available for guys). Likewise, a new capsule with MAC Cosmetics, which dropped today. Also: “I’m working on this particular piece,” he said, pointing to his run-of-show backstage. “It’s like a track jacket and a bra had a baby.” The cropped top, which had an almost corset-like hoist around the chest but then a standard, easy fit around the arms (some had hoods), was easily envisioned on the Gigis (Hadid opened the show) and the Kendalls and possibly the Cardis (B sat front row) of the world.
As has been observed, Scott, in his uncompromisingly independent way, is often ahead of the curve, and it was interesting to consider this relatively low-key and casual focus juxtaposed against his more futuro-camp instincts. Will these track jacket–bra hybrids be worn under lava lamp–like rainbow leopard-print sheer sashes, or will structured skirts in see-through orange PVC soon be paired with mini denim jackets, also with built-in pseudo-bras? Who knows, but it’s not so far removed from the believable, given the designer’s track record.
Much more in this sci-fi flick flew or slinked by: parachute strapping; puffers with all-over pocketing; a print that morphed the Jeremy Scott name into a font that looked obtusely like Hindi writing; Jetson-like hooped skirting; and metallic finishes on outerwear all included. The fluff (and the cartoon-bear prints) were inspired by Popples bears. Popples were toys that were introduced in the ’80s—sort of like, this writer imagines, the Beanie Babies of the era. Scott has long enjoyed an animated character or two in his collections, but the Popples had a more perverse undertone. “Cicciolina”—the Hungarian-Italian porn star—“used to carry them. So there’s this seductress and cute and cuddly thing at the same time,” said the designer.
And maybe that’s the story, the takeaway from this wild space odyssey romp: total confidence, expressed through kitsch. And nobody, in any universe, does that better than Jeremy Scott.
This article first appeared on Vogue.com.
