_
Vaquera corrupts a protestant church on the Champs Élysées on the first day of FW26 women’s week. Hordes of half-naked fashion girls, guys, dolls, and gays pour in,giddy as the first days of skin-bearing spring temperatures arrive. Cameras flash, cheeks kissed – a girl you’ve met ten times, her name still evades you. A photographer you slept with two seasons ago. Duck. Sunglasses back on even though the sun has definitely already set. 1 in 3 guests is decked out in a Vaquera trompe l’œil-lingerie t-shirt.
In this landscape, our original sin feels ever inescapable; and yet, as the organ above us begins to play Mendelssohn’s wedding march and confetti erupts from the raptures- a green heart shaped Merkin peeking out of a leather thong graces the runway- divine grace and salvation feel suddenly only a stone’s throw away, promising a heaven that smells like latex and poppers; stale bubblegum in an ashtray. Heaven directed by Patrick and Brynne stars a motley crew of cooky characters- from abstract mods, neo-punks, drugstore cowboys and circus freaks, to ladies who lunch, leather mommies and runaway bridesmaids.
This season Vaquera expands into slightly sleeker silhouettes and a slightly more subtle subversion of their clowny-sexy, campy takes on street and counter-culture references, by bringing in notes of classical, mid-late century inspired tailoring. Compared to the massive forms seen on their runways past, this season leans into something a little more streamlined, a little more European. I mean- it’s still totally mad- at one point the jaws soundtrack interrupts a choral cover of Prince’s When Doves Cry. But the the consistent deconstruction and reinterpretation of these classical forms, I.e. massive leather box as top, a fur cardigan with exaggerated fur shoulder pads, or wool bag-as-hat – things are still feeling a little more polished compared to the very branded and commercially-oriented show we saw last season.
Veils look more like caged fencing masks, a-line wool skirt-suit with built in panties peeking out, neon peplums paired with perfectly coiffed chignons and leather gogo boots! Westernwear is rendered dada – stitched denim in exaggerated forms are paired with massive drooping aviators, almost warping the wearer’s face. A babydoll dress is reinterpreted in silk taffeta, belted at the front, recalling silhouettes more typically Miumiu. Through these details and more Vaquera anchors their 80s does 60s New York sensibility to reinforce their place on the Paris runway.
Personal favorites include a tit’s-out at church remixed version of Charlotte Rampling’s iconic look in The Night Porter, and a plume-skirted wool sheath dress whose neckline comes up above the shoulders and around the head, perfectly framed, with a bow on top- very late 50s lady-society meets circus geek.
Snap, crackle, pop- Paris on lock- Vaquera’s done it again.
Xx
Rianna
