Jean Paul Gaultier Couture: Dandies, Decadence, and George Sand.

This review may be a little on the dodgy side because I wrote it through a veil of tears while pouring chocolate truffles and absinthe directly into my mouth and smoking a cheroot in a ten-inch-long holder. GUYS, I JUST LOVE THIS COLLECTION A LOT, OK. Gaultier's a triple-threat expert in the field of awesome yet faintly ridiculous haute couture, his main failing being the restrictive nature of his influences. This season, as with so many of his previous collections, Gaultier was inspired by Victorian dandies, vintage corsetry, tuxedoes, and classic Indian fashions, but even after thirty years in the public eye he still seems to be able to turn out new ideas for stunning couture.

photos from Style.com

The show opened with Erin O'Connor in a top hat and tails, dressed in an homage to George Sand. Gaultier has long enjoyed playing with gender-roles in his shows and even though his new Menswear collection was revealed only last week, this Couture show included new "menswear couture" items as well as several womenswear outfits worn by male models.

Tanel Bedrossiantz has modeled in over eighty of Gaultier's shows now, and as he ages he seems to grow more and more vampiric in appearance. Tanel commands a certain fearsomeness that can't quite be managed by the younger, prettier male models, which is exactly what Gaultier's shows need -- something to leven the slightly cheesy Moulin Rouge air for which he is so well-known.

It's unclear whether Andrej Pejic's first outfit was from the menswear or womenswear department -- perhaps intentionally so. On one side it was a relatively average dinner-suit, but the other side was completely sheer with an elbow-length leather glove. Even the shape holds no clues, because this season Gaultier almost entirely abandoned his love of corsetry in favour of a looser, more masculine silhouette for the womenswear. Corsets, in fact, were only seen on the men, with slight hourglass silhouettes being added to the suit-jackets through rigid structure-work and clever tailoring.

This collection wasn't so much a celebration of fresh creativity as it was about quality. While dandies and 19th-century decadence are by no means a new topic in the world of high-end fashion, a show like this proves that Gaultier can provide consistent excellence without resorting to gimmickry.

 Current mood: desperate to wear these iridescent grey velvet trousers and green shoes:

This is the kind of textured, luxurious couture work that makes me miss Christian Lacroix.

The one low point of the show was, for me, this purple tailcoat modeled by Erin O'Connor. It's a little too 1970s Vegas magician compared to the 19th-century sumptuousness of the rest of the collection.

The eveningwear ran from late nineteenth to early 20th century, with some outfits almost reaching flapper proportions. Fortunately the styling was such that most of the gowns didnt fall into the period-movie costume trap, although the colour scheme did remain securely in vintage tones of red, gold, and pale blue-green.

In among the out-and-out period pieces were some outfits that were harder to define, but no less beautiful for it. One of the things this season really made me appreciate was Gaultier's ability to balance a show: not too many costumey pieces, but enough that the collection seemed to vary widely from beginning to end. While the tuxedo-inspired suits (for both men and women) were relatively recogniseable as dandy-wear, some of the gowns seem to go straight for the faux-medieval trends of the early 20th-century aristocracy, and others had hints of angular Art Deco imagery:

Sidenote: My new hobby is printing off 1000 copies of this photo of the best spats of all time, folding the photos into a giant origami bed, and then rolling around on the bed until I die.

Tanel Bedrossiantz is Dracula.

While I usually dislike strapless body-suits, this gold outfit modelled by Karlie Kloss was so stunning I had to include it. The cape photographs so beautifully while in motion that it makes me sad this piece is almost certainly one of the ones that'll be bought up by a collector, never to be worn again by anything other than a mannequin.

These exterior-framework outfits were reminiscent of early Thierry Mugler or Gaultier's own designs from the '80s and '90s -- stripped-down corsetry and crinoline hooping, with a fetish edge. The gold bustier dress even seems to include some kind of chastity belt, and looks terrifyingly inflexible.

As is traditional, the show closed with a bridal gown, this one worn with a deconstructed top hat and made entirely from solid white fabric. Even this was dandy-influenced, with tuxedo lapels swooping down the model's back to join the floor-length skirts.

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Spring 2013 Menswear: Carven, Galliano, Demeulemeester, and McQueen.

Carven
I've seen this described as "botanical", which I love because when was the last time you saw womenswear being described as "botanical"? Guys, they're wearing florals. Deal with it.

All the models in this show were dressed like Victorian teacups and if you put them anywhere near a garden they'd either flee in terror or remain firmly on the footpaths until a servant had fetched some lawn furniture and a rug.

It'd take a very specific type of person to pull off outfits like these. The floral shorts-and-shirts combos are fine if you're fashion-forward, but several of the other outfits looked like something your grandmother would wear. The models got away with it, but only because the casting ran towards sallow youths rather than the muscle-bound gladiators we saw at Versace.

John Galliano
Galliano: now an entirely Galliano-free zone. Although this collection still retained the flamboyance we've come to expect from the brand, Galliano's own influences are beginning to thin out. Gone are the extravagant Dickensian villain outfits and oversized hats, and instead we get a solid theme: Surrealist art. First, Magritte's clouds...

... and later on, Dali's lobster, currently freed from its telephone perch.

Ann Demeulemeester
This collection definitely reminded me of Haider Ackermann's designs, although I wouldn't rate these as highly as his. The glowing jewel-tone fabrics are lovely, but a lot of the outfits ended up looking more like sleepwear than I think was originally intended.

Alexander McQueen
There was a strong link between this collection and the womenswear Resort line we saw a few weeks ago, particularly when it came to these metallic suits. On the whole, though, the menswear was a far less adventurous effort -- not that it matters because McQueen's couture lines are so consistently iconic and well-reviewed that the menswear could be the same boring suits year after year and no one would care. And these suits, at least, were far from boring.

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Spring Menswear: Moncler Gamme Bleu, Salvatore Ferragamo, Yohji Yamamoto, and more.

Moncler Gamme Bleu
Compared to Moncler Gamme Bleu's recent nominally-sports-themed collections, this one was practically restrained. Not a fencing mask in sight! And some of the clothes actually looked like clothes! Almost a disappointment, to be honest. I'd become oddly invested in the idea that Moncler Gamme Bleu was a label that had actual real-life customers who faithfully bought Thom Browne's seemingly unwearable designs season after season. Moncler Gamme Bleu always seems like a label invented for Saturday Night Live's Stefon sketches, you know?

Misgivings aside re: the tragic lack of truly ridiculous clothing, the show itself did look hella fun. The theme was sailing, meaning that most of the outfits looked like a cross between waterproof sailing gear and parts of yachts. I highly recommend watching footage of the show because it includes a line of Charleston-dancing sailors alongside the catwalk.

Ports 1961
I'm mostly including this because Robert Downey Jr needs to wear it.

Roberto Cavalli

Salvatore Ferragamo
I hope everyone likes translucent v-neck sweaters! Because if you don't, I'm coming round to your house and sitting you down in the Clockwork Orange chair and showing you these pictures until you do.

Really the only flaw in this shriekily bright show was the shoes. Ferragamo is known for Italian leather dress shoes, so it's kind of bemusing to me why they even decided to go for rainbow-coloured trainers in the first place. I doubt their regular buyers will be very enthused, for all that the menswear itself was excellent.

Vivienne Westwood

Yohji Yamamoto
Predictable Yamamoto fare: If you like him then you'll like this, but if you're not a Yamamoto fan then I can see why you'd be critical. I didn't see much development from his previous collections of baggy, shapeless streetware, and although I enjoyed this collection I feel like he needs to branch out a bit more in the future.

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The Hollow Crown, Part 1: Richard II.

Caveat: I am no Shakespeare scholar. I come at Shakespeare from the perspective of a pop-culture nerd, meaning that when I lived in London I was the person getting weird looks from the ushers at the Globe Theatre because I'd be all like, "No, don't give me a programme! I don't want spoilers!" Spoilers for King Lear, that is. I get why some people like to read plays before they see them, but I wouldn't read the script of The Avengers before seeing that so why should Richard II be any different? Usually this works out fine as long as I pay attention to the performance, although I did have some trouble the other week when I went to see Alan Cumming's one-man Macbeth, which was kinda hard to follow because, you know, he was playing all the roles. Fortunately I'm Scottish, and all Scottish people are forced to memorise the plot of Macbeth while being beaten with birch twigs and standing on a blasted heath at midnight as a rite of passage, which certainly comes in very useful in situations like this.

The other problem facing me when embarking upon the first installment of the BBC's Hollow Crown series was a complete lack of knowledge about the Wars of the Roses. I'm pretty sure that the Wars of the Roses are a History class staple in England, but Scottish education system tends to concentrate more on the Reformation, mostly for practical reasons because people in Scotland still get into barfights on a semi-regular basis about things that happened during the Reformation. I watched Richard II with a group of Scots and even though we had at least one History degree among us, we still weren't 100% certain whether Richard II took place in the 14th or 15th century until we wikipedia'd it afterwards. (N.B. Watching Shakespeare's English History plays in a roomful of Scots is ideal because the entire plot revolves around English people killing each other, which gives us all a schadenfreude thrill.)
As soon as Richard showed up I knew I was going to love him. I'd never seen Ben Whishaw in anything before, but I can now go on record to say that he's my new #1 casting choice for any roles that require a slimy, effeminate dweeb to Gaius Baltar his way around all the other characters while flopping onto furniture and sobbing about how misunderstood he is. A+ KINGING, BEN WHISHAW.

The first scene consists of Bolingbroke (the guy on the right) challenging James Purefoy to a duel in King Richard's court. Take a look at these two guys: you're going to be seeing a lot of those expressions over the course of this play. As far as I can tell, the main purpose of most of the non-Richard characters  is to provide entertaining "WTF, Richard?" reaction shots to whatever godawful King-decision he's has just made.

Aside from the multitude of comedy reaction shots, my favourite thing about Richard II was how Richard was so obviously styling himself as Jesus. I'll talk a bit more about his costumes later, but seriously. SERIOUSLY. That's some old-style White Jesus shit right there with the robes and the beard and the hair and what-have-you.

THIS PLAY INCLUDES A PRE-DUEL TRAINING MONTAGE WHERE JAMES PUREFOY HITS A PIG'S HEAD WITH A MACE AND HENRY BOLINGBROKE CHARGES AT STRAW DUMMIES WITH A LANCE.

Thanks to the presence of James Purefoy, this movie is KIND OF a sequel to A Knight's tale, right?

Although Bolingbroke and James Purefoy are totally geared up to joust each other to death in the name of honour, Richard loses interest at the last moment and -- I'm not kidding -- decides to stop the fight so he can go for a potty-break in his sparkly gold tent full of exotic pets and handsome manservants. Bolingbroke and James Purefoy are not pleased:

Tragically this is the last we're going to see of Purefoy, because Richard banishes them both. Bolingbroke is super upset about this, even though England is plainly a shithole where it rains 97% of the time and your King is a creepy slimeball who spends more time brushing his hair than doing any actual kinging.

AUMERLE LOOKS GOOD IN BLUE.

Richard and his courtiers hang out on a bridge in their tights, playing with flowers and talking about what an A+ idea it'll be to tax the poor in order to pay for a pointless war in Ireland. Richard is not the keenest mind of his generation, but compared to Aumerle (whose face is caressed lovingly by the camera at every opportunity) he's practically Einstein. Aumerle is the loyalest himbo courtier a dissolute and amoral King could wish for, seriously.

Next up, Richard goes to shake down Patrick Stewart, Bolingbroke's father. It's pretty clear that Patrick Stewart knows that Richard is a complete cockwaffle, but Richard doesn't give a shit because he's the King. ("Richard doesn't give a shit because he's the King" = the actualfacts synopsis of this play, I believe.) Anyway, Patrick Stewart proceeds to kick the bucket and Richard mourns for all of 14 milliseconds before seizing all his assets because girlfriend loooooooves him some gold.

This scene solidly establishes Richard as complete bag of dicks. Also, it's pretty clear from step one that the whole "war in Ireland" plan isn't going to go very well because Richard's national security council consists of a portrait artist and two courtiers. One of the courtiers goes to Wales to muster the Welsh troops, who look like this because everyone who isn't English is, of course, a savage:

To my complete lack of surprise, the portrait artist and his courtier buddy are captured by Bolingbroke, who is back in the country to retake Patrick Stewart's lands and fortune from Richard's dastardly clutches. Up until now I was kind of nonplussed as to the disappointing lack of a body count, but then this happened:

DECAPITATIONS ALL ROUND. It's almost like watching Game of Thrones! (N.B. Bolingbroke's entire rationale for decapitating those two seemed to have been "You're guilty of gaying up the King!" which, yeah, no.)

Here we come to the point where Richard's costumes really come to their own. He's obviously obsessed with the idea of styling himself as Jesus, plus the quantity of gold he wears warms the cockles of my heart. We already know that he's into the sparkles and the riches in a big way, but mostly I enjoy the fact that the costumiers have dressed him in such a way that his opulent wardrobe is really not the typical "I'm a King so I look rich" tradition of royals through the ages. Kings are meant to look rich and powerful but while Richard looks rich, he most emphatically does not look powerful. The combination of loose, Jesus-inspired robes and Ben Whishaw's slight figure make Richard look even more narrow-shouldered and soft when compared to gruff warriors like Bolingbroke in their coarse fabrics and utilitarian armour. The fabric choices alone lend something to his effeminate appearance: pale pastels, pure white, and all of it made from floaty, draped cloth that looks more like the clothes his wife wears than the tough warrior garb worn by most of the other men.

Bolingbroke and his troops come to overthrow Richard, at which point even I am making comedy reaction-shot faces at Richard because he decides to address them from the battlements while wearing all-gold armour and surrounded by cherubs and a gold halo. Amazing. Meanwhile, Aumerle is Richard's "cousin" the same way Patrocles is Achilles' "cousin" in Troy:

Regular readers probably know that I love me some armour, and I've got to fling a whole handful of gold stars at the costume people for Richard II because even Richard's armour makes him look round-shouldered and weak. Anyhow, Richard surrenders to Bolingbroke without a fight because it's pretty damn clear that Richard isn't much of a fighter.

SHAKESPEARE: He always has to include some comedy commoners to alleviate the tension. Always. I'm only bothering to mention this scene because it involved Argus Filch talking to Fleur Delacour. Harry Potter actors! If you want to make a film in Britain then you're going to have to include at least one of them or no one will take you seriously.

It's time for Richard to give up his crown to Bolingbroke, and since it seems likely that this is the last time he'll have a captive audience he milks it and milks it. Seriously, Richard spends more time talking about giving up the crown than he did trying to keep the crown in the first place. He has a lot of emotions. Also he wears an extra-special Sparkly Jesus costume made from translucent linens. It's pretty rad:

Richard's You-can-be-the-King-now speech takes so long it involves props, tears, and at least two instances of him prostrating himself on the floor. Richard II: Drama King.

This inspires some of the best "WTF, Richard?" reaction shots of the entire play:

Richard is flung into a dungeon but Aumerle remains loyal because he's the Best Boyfriend Ever. Honestly it's kind of inexplicable why he even cares so much, but the great thing is that it leads to this awesome scene with Aumerle and his parents. It's the immortal "stop trying to read my Facebook!" argument, with Aumerle's dad being all, "What's in that letter, son?" and Aumerle being like, "NOTHING!!!!" because that never sounds suspicious.

Unfortunate truth: the letter is actually part of a plot for Aumerle and some other dudes to assassinate Bolingbroke and get Richard back on the throne, so the entire Aumerle family decamps to Bolingbroke's court so Bolingbroke can a) decide whether or not to execute Aumerle for treason, and b) mediate the 14th-century equivalent of a Jerry Springer family dispute. Bolingbroke, as always, is not amused:

Deciding that the only way to prove his loyalty to the crown is to kill Richard, Aumerle goes to the cave where Richard is now languishing in  -- seriously -- a loincloth. At this point I was like, "We have four minutes until the end of the play. Can they really manage to insert more Jesus imagery before then?"

Answer: Yes.

Things I learnt from Richard II

1. People in 14th Century England were suicidally loyal to their Kings, regardless of how crazy, incompetent or unappealing those Kings actually were.
2. Richard II was really sparkly. Like, Edward Cullen sparkly. 
3. Aumerle looks good in blue.
4. Henry Bolingbroke Doesn't Like Dick. 

Next: Henry IV Part 1, starring Tom Hiddleston and Jeremy Irons. 

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