Imagine a dystopian future where everyone is dressed in Louis Vuitton. It’s dark. There are sequins. It’s filtered through an eighties prism. Let’s call it a movie prism where the heroine from some underground lair, into the shadows of some Blade Runner type backdrop. There was tailoring here. Skirt suits with a Catherine Deneuve shoulder, well she was in the audience so we can call it that – you know, that sort of pointy forties affair. It was deconstructed, looking as in a sense almost unfinished, as if the seams were yet to be sewn together, and worn over ruched leather bodices in the colour of dried blood, or wet look leather body suits that appeared almost wetsuit in their panels. The wetsuit idea reappeared in the thick seams of scuba bonded trousers, with zips that run up the front of legs, and were partially unzipped to allow for the trousers to be turned up. Tailored lace in royal blue and dark green added to the eighties ‘trash’ feel. Not ‘trash’ as in trash obviously, but that sort of touching on OTT hair band excess. As did black leather was wrapped around waists in the form of skirts, the seams cut to create wide flaps, dresses of draped jersey or sheets of tiger line sequins were held together at the hips with belted straps, sharp, precise slashes at the shoulder or waist revealing a slither of bare skin. Long, almost covered up dresses appeared in sheer mesh, with large harlequin panels of satin preserving any last ounce of modesty and creating an illusion of seams and structure. To sort of quote Motley Crue, knock em dead Louis. These are looks that kill.
Photographs by Jason Lloyd-Evans