Dear Shaded Viewers,
JUST AN REAL AGE is a meeting point between Sarah Andelman’s JUST AN IDEA and ANREALAGE by Kunihiko Morinaga. The exhibition celebrates ANREALAGE’s 25th anniversary and the turning of the clock, as their collections follow the alphabet from A to Z. In this moment, as the A and the Z overlap, the collections come together in one space: from the very first ‘SHADOW’ to the latest ‘SKIN’.
In the first space, past the A to Z shop, the room was enveloped in a white parachute material, almost like a membrane. You are immediately taken into this unidentifiable blank space, suspended in time, where all possibility awaits. At the centre stood a circular podium rotating clockwise, displaying an array of archival silhouettes from key moments in the brand’s past. The mannequins were arranged in rings, facing outwards.
In one corner of the room, a mysterious machine sat on a white plinth, its metallic arm standing motionless before the rotating mannequins. I stood observing it for a little while, but nothing happened. I stepped away, and just then I heard the smooth whirring of machinery. I turned back, only to realise I had missed it. With anticipation, I waited for the platform to complete another rotation.
I kept my eye on the mannequin in the long white fur coat as it gradually positioned itself in front of the robotic arm. Suddenly, it moved. In three quick smooth motions, the arm painted what was once a white satin shirt, a pale embroidered dress, and an unassuming white coat into vibrant hues. The lace flowers on the dress bloomed into blue, yellow, and purple. What looked like sprayed dye was in fact UV light projected from the arm. This was ‘=’ (A/W 2023-24).
The next room featured a row of scalloped dresses on the left, and a quartet of babydoll dresses on the right. I blinked, and one of the scalloped pieces changed colour. Have you ever seen a clip of a crocodile’s eye, when its transparent third eyelid glosses over its pupil? This was what the movement reminded me of: each scale shifting individually, in one fluid motion. It was slightly unsettling but mesmerising, and, in Morinaga’s words, “our own little touch of the extraordinary.”
On the right, the four sculptural pieces had the texture like that of an origami tessellation. Tantalising to observe, the wearable sculptures slowly shifted colours as they spun. I had the same feeling as I first watched a video of a chameleon changing colour. My brain still cannot quite comprehend how one colour seems to ooze and leave the body as another comes to inhabit it. ANREALAGE was playing tricks on my eyes. This was ‘SKIN’ (S/S 2027).
In the third space, looks from A/W 2025-26 ‘SCREEN’ and S/S 2026 ‘🖤’ returned, accompanied by Thomas Bangalter’s bespoke soundtracks. Whilst the ‘SCREEN’ looks dazzled along the side of the room – a feast for the eyes – the projected film showed moments where the clothes truly came alive. The colourful ruffles of soft fabric moved with a mind of their own. At first glance, I thought the movement was natural, caused by the wind. But the longer I watched, the more I noticed that their motions were too jerky, too erratic – like a moth twitching as it leaves its cocoon.
I left the exhibition feeling renewed and excited about the future of fashion. In a time when technology so often carries pessimism, anxiety, and doubt, this was the first time in a long while that it felt hopeful, even magical.
“REAL and UNREAL. The everyday and the extraordinary must lie at that same distance.
Just a little apart.”
Later,
Estelle
